Anger: Mangry Sinners in the Hands of a Redemptive God

I have days when I'm angry. Have you ever been angry? I mean, so angry you mix up the words "angry" and "mad" to invent a new word-- "mangry?"

I've had days where I'm THAT mangry-- and I know a few others who've felt that way too.

However... how often do we hear this play in our heads when we start to feel the normal human emotion of anger?: "Good Christians (especially good ordained elders) should not get angry. Seriously- what would people think?" And-- "God, what would God think? We can't be mangry."

Well, today I'm throwing those thoughts out the window. Chuck it out with me-- everyone just go ahead and shout "Whoop-dee-doo."

(I'm listening).

Yeah, "Whoop-dee-do." That's what we're saying today. Because today, we're going to feel some normal human anger.

Horrid things happen to us. Mean people screw us into the wall and then laugh when we hang crooked. We get humliated, mortified, embarassed. People in power shouldn't be in power. Other people's sin limits us. That's a lot to be angry about, wouldn't you say?

So there's days I'm mangry. You've been mangry. Maybe you're mangry now. And that's okay. We have lots of reasons to be mangry.

So-- together, let's be those "mangry sinners in the hands of a loving, redemptive God," who's divine, powerful, and strong enough to deal with us-- even when we're angry. Let's, together, tell God why we're angry. Let's just spew out what makes us mad.

Go ahead, God is listening-- and I really can't hear what you're saying.

And then-- when our verbal vomit of anger is complete and we silence our spirits-- let us listen carefully to what God says.

Because I know, if we are committed to making pure, holy, and choices of LOVE even in our human anger, God will redeem... even the things we are angry about today. FAITH in God to redeem even the things that make us angry... makes all the difference in the world. So, let's together feel normal human anger-- but with the HOPE that God will use, even our anger and the sinful things we get angry about, towards the redemption of creation.

I believe in a God who can redeem ALL things. Nothing is beyond God's redemption. Not even anger or things that make us mad.

(The picture from this post is my own photography-- from a hike I took during sabbatical. This picture reminds me of creation's redemption-- even in anger).

Stones and Waves

This picture was taken by Cassie Tillas, a good friend of mine and excellent photographer.

The unassigned ordained elder (pointing to herself as she types) is itching to preach... so I am posting this for for my lectionarychat friends who are preaching this week. :)

The passages for this week are Mark 4:35-41 and 1 Samuel 17:1a, 4-11, 19-23, 32-49.

I read the Mark passage earlier this week and studied the 1 Sam passage today for awhile. The question that dominated my thoughts, as I read 1 Sam, came from the mouth of my pro-war and pro death penalty friend: "How do you deal with David and Goliath as a person of non-violence?"

Good question.

I decided this was actually a humorous passage. I mean, big & powerful Goliath comes with swords, toothpics, and spears and David comes with a tiny, itsy-bitsy piece of creation (a stone)and the name of the Lord. The violence is stopped with a tiny, smooth rock. I mean, how is that not funny?

The sword, spear, and big-mean giant are stopped with a stone. Not even a big rock. Not even a mountain. A tiny stone.

That's funny.

Which I think connects to Kaza's point (on lectionarychat) about Jesus in the boat. She points out that it is Jesus who holds the power in the boat. It is Jesus who holds God's power- because he IS God. Great points, Kaza.

Which makes me ask: Who holds the power? God or man? God or Goliath? God or the confused disciples?

God shows us who holds the power with a tiny rock and a few waves.

It's like... the rock used to stop the violence of Goliath was made smooth in the water (it got pushed around until it was refined and smooth)... and the disciples get rocked around in a boat (and made smooth) to be used and transformed.

Then we see that smooth rock be used by God to redeem and reconcile. And soon in Mark, we will see the disciples invite people to join in the adventure of God's story to redeem all of creation.

These are exciting passages to preach and would be so fun to weave together. Are you being made smooth like the stone? Are you being rocked like the disciples by the waves?

Who holds the power? God does. God is still in control and has not been shocked by our suffering or afflictions (our being rocked by the water and waves).

And God just might use you, a tiny, insigificant little stone (rocked by the waves and made smooth in suffering) to get caught up in God's plan to redeem creation.

You just might find yourself... as the smooth stone used to do crazy things... like take down giants. Or you might find yourself as a disciple, bearing witness to the power of God in Jesus.

"Feed Me:" Transforming from Baby Birds to Soaring Icons

I recently read an interesting book "Telling God's Story: Narrative Preaching for Christian Formation" by John W. Wright (Published by InterVarsity Press, 2007).

When I picked up this text in a Pasadena store, I was interested in reading this book over the hundreds of others in the "Archives" for several reasons. First, the author was my friend's mentor and having personal connections to the author often helps you pick up a book and start reading. Why else would any of us care that Stephanie Meyer was an English major? We like to connect to our authors.

Second, I wanted to read this book because I love the language about participating in God's story to redeem creation. This is the lens by which I read scripture and thus preach every sermon; to call people to participation in God's plan to restore and redeem creation.

And although these were the reasons I picked up the book, I gleaned so much more from these pages.

The book begins with commentary on today's church and my own heart lamented its truth. All too often congregations cry out "feed me," "feed me," much like baby birds. The picture you see here, at the beginning of this blog, was taken by my friend Cassie Tillas.

And much like my idea of tiny baby birds, Wright says often the church "gathers to enable individuals to find God's help for various personal problems" and "feed them as individuals" (10).

Although anyone could have written a book with those facts, Wright takes it much futher. He delves deep into why this is a problem; what it is that causes the Church of Jesus Christ to think this way. Wright talks about the infleunce of an individualistic, consumer oriented culture, the theraputic experience, and traces the theological figures who enabled us to get to this baby bird mentality.

He also sets up a difference between comedy and tragedy. All too often we preach using comedy. The end is resolved; no matter what drama happens, we end up in a happy, beautiful place.

However, tragedy "shatters the presupposition that it will all work out" (33) and he describes how such vulnerability opens doors for transformation. For it is those tragic moments that pave the way to enable repentance when we are called out of our society, our individual lives, and asked to participate in the very story of God.

Wright talks about how preaching with a tragic moment sends "shock waves" (43) through the church and people may revolt crying out "feed me" even louder; for they desire to be nourished and leave feeling good. But the task of a preacher is to call them out of this mentality and set them up for an exciting adventure where they become "characters participating in God's redemption of the world through Christ and the church" (159).

Shock waves create conflict. Conflict creates tension. Tension creates stress for the preacher; and unfortunately some of us do not make it past those tragic moments to watch our people flourish and become who they were created to be. And thus, those of you who know me well, can understand how reading this book was extremly redemptive for me.

The hardest part of this text to read were the parts I took my pen and wrote "sad" in the margin. These were the sentences: In today's interpretation of scripture "each individual became the story's central actor," "God may play a supporting role" in each story but only "based upon the will of the individual," thus making THE STORY, the story of "personal salvation" (53). Truly sad.

How different is this individualistic, baby bird mentality from the vision to enter into the story of God; to particpating in the redemption and salvation of all creation? I am not even sure that can be answered adequately. It is as different as you can imagine... speaking of tragedy; that ought to make you puke.

Perhaps this breaks my heart most of all because I know he is right; this is what dominates preaching these days. And thus: How will the people in the church today learn to jump out of the nest to soar as an icon (reflecting the divine image) for the world if we preach messages aimed at feeding and nourishing the individual?

When we preach to nourish the individual and "feed them" only our witness to the world becomes static. But what we are called to, as Wright says multiple times, is to live as a "peculiar people;" a people on "an adventure" to live as a sign of God's redemption in the world" (74).

Now that's exciting!

Thus, the goal of our preaching should be to preach the "teleos" of creation's redemption. Wright spends a significant amount of time teaching us HOW to do that. And if I've convinced you this book is worthwhile, I would highly recommend picking up this book and learning how to preach and interpret scripture in this beautiful story of God.

Thankfully, Wright does not end with just words in preaching. He talks about the actions that go along with the rhetoric. Wright tells us there are three things we must do (in chapter 5). We must take part in the Eucharist, forgive and reconcile, and sharing and hospitality. He says, "the practices of a local congregation provide the rhetoric background through which the Spirit might form and sustain a peculiar people" (128).

Wright uses the language of "formation" and habits (91) but having the passion for virtue ethics that I do, I could expand on these two phrases forever.

I smiled when he talked about the preacher being formed by the virtues of faith, hope, and love. For the virtue ethicist knows these are the three theological virtues, according to St. Thomas Aquinas.

Virtue ethics teaches us to be formed by faith, hope, and love and it is my passion to become creative and imaginative about how we might be formed this way.

We were formed incorrectly; many pastors know this; Wright put it in print for us to convince us of this. However, Wright is right. :) We need to think through what it means to be re-formed into a new narrative; a new way of thinking.

What will it take to shock us out of our habit of acting like baby birds, begging the preacher to feed us so we feel good?

I have several ideas, expanding on Wright's third point (sharing and hospitality); all of which include "getting dirty."

We spend time with the "least of these." We hang out with people in our community, inviting them and loving them as our community (even if they are the "stranger" as Wright calls it). We get down on our knees and scrub the floors. We allow our pastors to spend more time with the poor than the rich. We act like the people outside our church doors are as valuable as those with power. When people lose their hope and dreams, we remind them of who they CAN be; who they were created to be. We treat them like the people God envisions for them to be.

I would add, to Wright's great start in this discussion, that I believe... the way we learn how to "get dirty" is through the practices of the church (as I write over and over). For example, when we give something up for Lent, we learn a new habit. We are re-formed into a different kind of people. We learn how to give up something for God and thus when it comes time to give up our time or money for someone else, we were formed to do so. In other words, we are being formed differently through the action of self-denial. When we fast, we learn a new habit. We are shocked out of our old habit and learn a new one.

Perhaps what the church needs today, is a huge fast where we together give up what we want to learn where our little lives get caught up in God's plan for redemption of creation; where we are shocked to the point of being formed differently; that we might become a different people together.

And if my commentary and additions do not convince you to read this book, maybe Stanley Hauerwas can. He recommends it. :)

Dirty Hearts

While I am on sabbatical I have a lot more time to study various passages of scripture. Usually I focus on one scripture each week; eating, breathing, and sleeping that one passage as I prepare to preach it. But while I'm on sabbatical, I read one or two passages a day. I feel spoiled.

Today I studied Luke 8:5-8, 11-15. The Parable of the Sower. Or as I like to call it: Dirty Hearts.

The story goes like this. A farmer (we'll call him Joe Bob, I am in southern Virginia for sabbatical afterall) goes out with a bag of seeds. I can see him carrying his big ol' bag, not even struggling under the weight. He reaches his hand in and casts out the first batch. They fall on the dirty dusty pathway. He takes another handful; they fall on some rocks. He reaches in and grabs another handful; they fall amongst weeds. And then he casts the last bit out, emptying the bag onto the ground as the seeds land on the good soil. And then Joe Bob walks into his house and waits for harvest.

The seeds that fell on the dirt path were trampled by his seven year old twins; and then the birds came and ate them. Farmer Joe Bob shakes his head and sighs.

The seeds that fell on the rocks started to grow but wilted quickly because they could not find nutrients or moisture to survive.

The seeds that fell amongst the weeds started to grow but Farmer Joe Bob watched as they choked and died.

The final seeds fell on good soil and grew and produced fruit beyond Farmer Joe Bob's wildest dreams. His twin boys had enough food for their whole entire school to come over for an end of the year party. It was a grand event that included large moonwalk blowups, cotton candy, and balloons.

And now what is the point of this story with my amusing additions of Farmer Joe Bob and his twins?

The seed is the Word of God. Many people hear the Word of God. But not all of our hearts are the same.

Some of our hearts are like the dirt path. We hear the Word but we get trampled easy.

Some of our hearts are like the rocks. We hear the Word but when things get tough we fall away because our roots don't go deep enough for nutrients.

Some of our hearts are like the thorns. We hear the Word but the cares, riches, and pleasures of this world choke us before we can ever produce fruit.

And... some of our hearts are like the good soil (dirty hearts). We hear the Word and we hold onto the Word. We become honest. We become good. We bear fruit. We learn to be patient, enduring even in suffering and trials.

So what kind of a heart do you have? Is it trampled? Is it rocky? Is it thorny?

Or is your heart dirty with rich, good soil?

As I was reflecting on this passage I heard God say... my church is filled with many types of hearts from thorny to dirty. All of us, in the church, heard the Word of God and were transformed by it in some way. But not all people, even church leaders, have dirty hearts. The church is often a place for those who are dealing with thorns or seeking, with desperation, more nutrients.

And so as I read this passage I began to grieve for the church of God; to pray for those who might be thorny, trampled, or seeking nutrients amongst the rocks. And I prayed that my own heart would become as dirty with good soil as possible; that in these times of deep suffering God would make my heart quite dirty so that I might produce fruit that points us all towards the redemption of creation.

God have mercy on your church. We so desperately need you. May we all have dirty hearts.

Redemption Is Calling

I am enjoying my time of sabbatical; taking time to stop and rest. When things are going fast and at the speed of light we tend to see the trauma and trash over the renewal and restoration. So I thought I would take some time to share and reveal the moments I am seeing God's plan for the redemption of creation these days.

I am seeing God in the ordinary; in the moments of life we pass through everyday.

I see God's renewal of all things in the beauty from the trash (see the picture above). While we were visiting a strawberry patch I noticed a pile of pipes and trash near the field. It struck me as beautiful; even though it is a stack of unwanted trash. And I realized as I snapped the picture, sometimes the ugliest moments of life are at work revealing the beauty of renewal.

I see the vibrance of redemption in the roses out in front of the house. It was raining one day; pouring down in buckets. We opened up the door and watched the storm crash around us. But when the wind grew quiet and the drops stopped falling the roses and their stems were covered with dew looking drops, sparkling under the sun's rays. It was beautiful even when they were drenched and wilting from the pressure of the storm's heavy drops.

I also hear the symphony of renewal in the songs I keep hearing; secular and Christian. The song, "East to West" by Casting Crowns has a verse that says something like: "I'm not holding onto God; God is holding onto me." That's deeply reassuring. Starfield sings a song "Everything is Beautiful" where it says "Sometimes grace reminds me I don't get to be the King. I'm like a bird with clipped wings but I hear redemption calling; even when the tears are falling and everything is crashing. I can hear redemption calling-- everything is beautiful to me." I could not say it any better myself. And finally, for a little John Mayer: "I'm bigger and stronger than my body gives me credit for!" Ha. We all need to hear this; we are all stronger than our fragile, breakable bodies sometimes indicate.

This sabbatical is teaching me: God is at work in the redemption and renewal of all things; especially some of the painful and damaging things we experience. Sin might devastate, destroy, and divide but God's action in creation is to restore, redeem, and reconcile.

It is my prayer that all those who read this blog post will be given the eyes to see God's beautiful painting of restoration before their eyes and hear redemption's calling. Because everything is beautiful; even when the tears are falling.

The Invisible

I met a Latin American woman working housekeeping during my travels to the east coast. She saw me leaving my room and greeted me with a smile and a "hello." I returned her greeting with a big smile and wave; thinking nothing of it. But my kindness to the housekeeper would soon blossom into putting a face on the suffering of Latin American women in the United States.

I sat down to breakfast- snacking on a donut; pretending I would eat the bananna on my table. By the time I hit my second cup of coffee the housekeeper walked in the breakfast room to sneak some fruit. She turned to me again, "Do you like breakfast?" she asked. "Yes- I guess I do" I replied. She questioned again, "Do you like early mornings?" "Sometimes" I said as I laughed.

She smiled- but her smile quickly faded. Her lips quivered and her eyes peirced me with an overwhelming grief. She tried to hide it and shook her head causing the dark, matted curls in her hair to bounce. She moved as if she could shake away her sadness for the moment.

I smiled at her and gave her warm eyes. Suddenly she blurted out, "It's such hard work. Such hard work. All day- all day. So I can live upstairs. But it's such hard work- such hard, hard work." She was trying, unsuccesfully, not to cry.

I had no idea what to do or say. All I could think of was my Liberation Theology class and Izzasi-Diaz's book about the suffering of Latin American women; and here she was before me-- a person; not an idea in a book.

"Do you have family here?" I asked. Any good pastor knows family is a good starting point. She had a son and a daughter. One was married and she had a grandbaby. It sounded like perhaps she provided for some of them.

She tried to eat a bananna but her grief and torment would not allow it. She grabbed me in a hug and sobbed. I was not surprised.

I hugged her tightly back-- not processing it yet; but quite aware that is what I was there to do.

She gave up on her bananna and went to throw it away; whimpering the entire way.

I looked at her hunched over body and felt incredible compassion for her. I could not stand it anymore. I jumped up and hugged her again. "God be with you" I whispered. She nodded her head.

She got a cup and filled it as her hands quivered. She turned to me one last time. "Goodbye" she said with a wave. "Goodbye" I mumbled back.

And she was gone.

I thought about my words to her. "God be with you;" and I felt sad. The way God will be "with" her is through God's physical body in the world-- the Church... and I have serious doubts many of us SEE her; let alone care.

She's invisible. She works quietly-- cleaning; suffering in silence. She works countless hours. She grieves; and a huge portion of the church doesn't see her.

We send money to the poor overseas. We desire to save those in poverty from the gates of hades-- but few of us give a rip about this lady's living conditions and her grief so overwhelming she would sob before a complete stranger.

She's invisible.

The only job she can find is cleaning up after me. She had hopes for a better life and those hopes came crashing around her.

Her pain and grief is unbelivable and unbearable-- and she's invisible.

Her name is Sengena.

* * * * * * *

God, give us the eyes to see the invisible; to be your hands and feet to those who suffer right in front of us. Make the invisible the ones whom our eyes see the most.

And God- be WITH that dear lady; through us, your body.

* * * * * * *