A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Bank…

In less than a month, I will have pastored with this church for a full year. And while the bulk of my ministry has taken place in small towns, this one is by far the smallest at around 500 people. As more farms are sold and more warehouses built, the good people of this small community sense that their very way of being is threatened. As a result, this is the kind of small town that prides itself for and wants to preserve those quintessential small town qualities: a sense of real community, people looking out for each other, friendly, a good place to raise kids, etc. 

 And this day, like most every other payday, I decided to walk to the bank to deposit my check… because that’s the kind of thing you do in a small town. 

While walking along those few blocks, I saw someone I knew on the other side of the street. This is a person who left the church after stirring up a lot of trouble when they realized I (and others) did not actually ascribe to all the same political and theological commitments. 

Anyway, they were in conversation with someone else, so I chose to simply smile and wave when they looked my way. 

And here, dear reader, is what happened:

They saw my wave and started instinctually to return it —because that’s what you do in a small town. But when their hand got about 3/4 of the way into “wave position,” they recognized me, abruptly (and awkwardly) stopped stopped raising their hand to wave, and turned around immediately and walked away from both me and the person they had been speaking with. 

Because of the distance, I do not know if there were words of goodbye shared by this once-member to that stranger-to-me. But their message to me was clear enough without words. 

This was shocking—and not. It was hurtful—and yet I also found myself later laughing at the absurdity of it all. But it also reinforced something I’ve been sending for some time: we are not all following the same Jesus. 

From earlier conversations with this person, I feel confident in positing that they not only felt justified by their faith in taking this action toward me, but that they felt that their faith mandated such a thing… that refusing even to wave at me is what Jesus required of them.

Which leads me to wonder: 

• Who is this Jesus they profess? 
• Where does he come from?
• What scriptures does one find him in?
• How does this bizarro-Jesus so easily get confused with the true one who is his polar opposite?
• And how do followers of the biblical Jesus resist this weaponization of their teacher, their scriptures, and their communities of faith?

Now, I have no doubts whatsoever that the church of the Jesus Christ of the Scriptures will continue in perpetuity, because it’s survival rests not with his followers but with its Lord. We have done our darndest to frack it up for the last 2000 years, and we have indeed done so repeatedly. And yet it persists. It persists both through us and in spite of us, and if that isn’t a testimony of resurrection, I don’t know what is.

I don’t know what the church of the Jesus Christ of the Scriptures is going to look like 20 years from now or 10 years from now. Encounters like this one, make me wonder whether I have any real idea what it will look like even two years from now. But I also know what true faith does not look like, and I know with the God of the Scriptures and his son Jesus Christ require of us: “To do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8)… and to love your neighbor—and even your enemy—as yourself (Luke 6:27 and MANY others).

Triumph

The following is the message I shared today as part of our ecumenical community Good Friday service. The format of the service was that of the “seven last Words of Jesus,” which pairs each of the seven “sayings” of Jesus from the cross with a theme word. Here’s the outline we followed, with scripture references for the curious and/or studious:

Word #1: Forgiveness

“Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” (Luke 23:34) 

Word #2: Salvation

“I promise you that this very day you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

Word #3: Relationship

“Dear woman, this is your son. This is now your mother.” (John 19:26-27) 

Word #4: Abandonment

“My God, My God, why have You forsake me?” (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34)

Word #5: Distress

“I am thirsty.” (John 19:28) 

Word #6: Triumph

“It is finished.” (John 19:30) 

Word #7: Reunion

“Father, I entrust My spirit into Your hands.” (Luke 23:46)

I was assigned the sixth Word: “Triumph.”

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Intro

Forgiveness.
Salvation.
Relationship.
Abandonment.
Distress.

And now: Triumph.

“It is finished.”

John 19:30

Triumph…… though I imagine we would be forgiven for thinking that the Word for this saying might just as easily be “tired.

Tired. 

Tired

I am tired.
Are you tired?

I learned a long time ago in ministry that navigating Holy Week requires more energy than I can supply on my own. 

But I am also learning through Jesus that it is ok—and even necessary—to take some time to “go up the mountain alone to pray” (Matthew 14:23 NRSV)—to practice some solitude and silence and soul-care—because He cares for me.

But I’m still tired. I’m still weary of working my way through this world—a world we have built with systems and powers and principalities that profit off of the weariness the world inflicts upon us. 

• I am tired of school shootings.
• I am tired of racially motivated violence.
• I am tired of inept and divisive politics.
• I am tired of illness bankrupting families for generations.
• I am tired of the immoral accumulation of wealth.
• I am tired of the stigma of mental illness that inhibits wellbeing.
• I am tired of 121 veterans dying by suicide every day.
• I am tired of the criminalization of poverty and homelessness.
• I am tired of the hopelessness we have inflicted upon our youth, with 1/5 of all young people 15-24 reporting having had serious thoughts of suicide and almost a tenth having survived at least one suicide attempt.
• I am tired of the perversion of Christian nationalism.
• I am tired of being condemned for insisting that Christians start acting like Jesus.

I am tired.
I am soul tired.

To quote the inimitable Fannie Lou Hamer: 

“I’ve been tired so long, now I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.” 

(20 December 1964, at the Williams Institutional CME Church of Harlem, NY)

I’m so tired sometimes that I feel finished. I feel like I might just give in and give up and  go on.

And it’s not just me, is it?

Jesus’ Work

Friends, it is ok to be tired. 

I imagine that our Jesus knows something of this, fighting against the powers and principalities of the world as he did with such determination and spirit.

I imagine too, that there was a similar ache of soul-fatigue on that Friday all those years ago.

As Jesus hung on the cross…
As his body ached for oblivion…
As the shadow of death loomed so large that it brought darkness across the whole land… 

Jesus must have ached for it all to be finished. But he knew that nearly done is not done. He knew:

• He had to give God the time to put the last pieces into place. 
• He had to continue to “forget what lie behind and strain forward to what lie ahead…… pressing on toward the goal.” (Philippians 3:13–15)

As Jesus hung on that cross… as the last pieces of the constellation of his work were brought into alignment… I imagine that as Jesus voiced those words “It is finished!” he had in mind something like the proclamation of the apostle Paul’s confession: 

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 

2Timothy 4:7 (NRSV)

Our Work?

Jesus died knowing that the great work of love (for which he came among us) was now finished. But (siblings!) in the moment—the very moment!—that his work was finishing, ours was just beginning.

Jesus’ work was complete; our work was just now underway.

Jesus crossed the finish line just as the starting-pistol crack of an earthquake signaled our own race to begin.

Jesus cry of triumph calls us to battle.

.

Friends, I get that you’re tired. I’m tired. Jesus is tired.
But now is not the time to back down.

Not now. 

• Not when death has already been defeated. 
• Not when the victory has already been secured. 
• Not when the war has already been won.

The Cause of Christ for which we fight—the war we wage in Jesus’ name against the powers and principalities that destroy life and diminish those made with love in God’s image…… the Cause of Christ presses onward.

We fight against the last vestiges of the Enemy. Like cornered animals, the Enemy fights an ugly fight—biting and clawing at anything within reach. 

That intensity can be startling.
That violence can be appalling. 

But you see: the Enemy is fighting for his life. 

But the same is not true of us. 

Our life is secure in:

• the One who “prepares a place for us”… 
• the One who calls us friends… 
• the One “who is able to do more than we ask or imagine”… 
• the One whose love demonstrates to us what love really means.

Outro

In the triumph of the Cross, the work of Jesus is finished. 

Like us, he was tired. And like him, we must persist:

“Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, [let us] press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 3:13–14 (NRSV)

“Let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest-time, if we do not give up.”

Galatians 6:9 (NRSV)

Amen. May it be so.

Easter Update!!

I know you all have been eagerly anticipating news of our Easter Sunday service, which we’ve been teasing for several weeks. As we have been promising, this is going to be an Easter celebration to remember…… an Easter celebration that is sure to change all Easter celebrations to come. And today, as promised, is the big reveal.

While the resurrection story has been told over and over throughout the ages, no one can deny the challenges of translating such an ancient and peculiar story into the present culture. In fact, many are resistant to faith in Jesus precisely because of how unbelievable these stories can seem—a challenge compounded by the manifold preachers and authors spinning their own problematic interpretations. It seems the resurrection story is simply “too much too much,” as the young people say.

So this year, we’re going to keep Jesus in the tomb! No more problematic “zombie Jesus” blog posts, no more need to attend to the science of decomposition, and no more need to see Jesus as a dude who taught anything that survives death. 

Instead of coloring miraculously opened tombs, your youngest children will be learning about the importance of institutional survival. Rather than ask impertinent questions, the teens will be redirected to aid the Trustees in the long-overdue concrete repair of the front stairs (that no one uses since everyone parks in the back). The young marrieds will be learning how the God who can keep a tomb closed can open wombs. And the seniors who are not on the Trustee Board will be participating in a visioning workshop to discern the way forward into this promising, resurrection-less future.

Remember, the service begins at 10. Make sure you are on time so you don’t miss anything and to avoid everyone will be silently judging you (about that, at least).

Yours in faith, hope, and love,

Pastor Brandon

#aprilfools

Inconceivable

It occurs to me how the Cross and the Resurrection are individually—at different times—each the most implausible part of the Jesus story.

There are seasons of life and history in which we are so conscious of Jesus as God/messiah/lord that it is inconceivable that he might die. Of course the Resurrection would happen—how could it not?

And there are seasons of life and history in which we are so acutely aware of the power wielded for evil in our world that the idea of Jesus dying—and dying like this (paging James Cone)—seems inevitable and almost ordinary. What is most implausible in these seasons is that those seemingly all-powerful entities could ever be thwarted—hence the inconceivability of the Resurrection.

Lent, of course, “works” for both. We might need to “get ready” for the Cross, or we might need to “get ready” for the empty tomb, but either way: things are not ok. There is work to be done within and without.

New Grief

TW: death, suicide, grief 

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Six days ago, a close friend ended his own life. He too was clergy, and though surrounded by folks who have been trained to look for warning signs, none were seen. As I have processed his death these past days, I have come to believe that no warning signs were received because none were shown. David himself had received similar training to the rest of us, and so he knew exactly how to avoid detection. In a deadly twist, the training intended to reveal was used to conceal.

I only have questions – the inevitable “why?”, but also “what now?” I do not know how he organized his own friendships and support, but he was an integral part of my own. David was one of a select few with whom I could be honest about my own anxiety and depression. Ours was a relationship where he could ask me as a natural part of conversation and care whether I had myself strayed into suicidal ideation. 

Well, we had texted and called a few times in the past weeks, the last we spent any real time together was a month or so ago. Then it was me and mental health crisis, and he an ever-gentle companion and lifeline. This is how I will remember him.

On the night of the day he died, as yet unaware that my friend was no longer among us, I thought of David. I remembered how meaningful his presence had been during my crisis, and I purposed (with a smile on my face) to reach out in the morning to thank him again, and tell him how much better I was doing. But it was already too late. Come morning, I would learn of his death, and everything would fall into turmoil. 

On Thursday, I will bury my friend. Today, I draw strength from still waters.

Check on your people, friends. The world is not ok. 

The Treasure of Christmas: A Non-Seussical Story

Way back in the year of 0 BC,
A crazy thing happened for you and for me.
I know you weren’t born, and neither was I,
But let’s peer back through time and see what we spy.

In those days, way back when, an order was sent
By a king named Augustus whose mind was hell-bent
On counting the people—the big and the small—
So each one did travel—to their hometown recalled.
Among all the others were Joseph and Mary
Whose history together was already scary—
A visit by angels? and then she’s with child?
And Joseph chose not for divorce to have filed?

So, like all the others, went traveling they
In hopes there would be somewhere comfy to stay.
But—no room in the inn—he was laid in a manger,
And sooner or later came visiting strangers.

First, shepherds who some visions had
Of myriads of angels —all very glad
To proclaim good news: “a savior is born!”
And: “peace on earth this gentle morn!”

Then kings would come—wise men from the east
With symbolic gifts—the thought counts at least.
They brought to the babe gold, frankincense, myrrh
And no doubt by now all this was a blur,
For Mary treasures and ponders what all this might mean,
For the substance of meaning was yet to be seen.

You know this tale well—much as I do
But the deeper I look, the more it seems true
That as Jesus says: “the first shall be last,”
And that this inversion stays not in the past,
But the present and future are made up likewise—
For God chose what was foolish to bring shame to the wise.
So sadly—to you I must now lament
There’s much in this story that makes little sense.

A census is ordered… but why now? and then
To ancestral cities return again?
When most hadn’t been to those cities at all
For generations before this sudden roll-call.
Then Mary is pregnant without “you-know-what,”
But Joseph decides that the door he won’t shut
On their marriage prospects since an angel told him
That the situation was not truly so grim.

But wait! There’s more! this nonsense ain’t done!
There’s more weird-o stuff in the birth of God’s Son!

There’s that, for one thing, that this little child
Who is laid in the creche—so tender and mild—
Is a king: and still more! Him they cooed and they cawed
Is none other—that’s right—none other than God!

So informed from the East, Herod saw such a threat
That he lied, and cheated, and wouldn’t relent
Until like old Pharaoh he commits genocide,
And like baby Moses, young Jesus survives.

The nonsense is great in this story of old,
But the most absurd of all is yet to be told.
The nonsense of Christmas—it’s treasure, you see—
Is that God loves you, and that God loves me.

I know; it’s absurd! Most ridiculous of all!
And yet, with us Godself is enthralled.
God made us to be in friendship with him,
And so Jesus’ birth was no sudden whim
But the fullness of all of God’s hopes in the past
That together on earth God might show us at last
What life can be like in the here and the now
If living God’s way we just would avow.

A light in the dark, Jesus shines even still,
Giving hope to the hopeless and hoping all will
Find light and love in every dark place
For wherever we are, Jesus shares that same space.

The Kingdom is now, he declared way back then
And still it is now—amen and amen!
For though Jesus came to live and to die,
He’ll return, once more, breaking into the sky.
All wrongs will be righted when Jesus returns;
Like a king, he’ll be welcomed, and this world upturned:
The crooked made straight; the low lifted up
The hungry well-fed; the rich now washed-up.
For this world today is not as God hopes
Nor is God content to despair and to mope
So God acts!—intervenes!—all things to redeem—
Though such a thing (to us) seems merely a dream.

As is said in the psalm: all the earth praises Him
And we (along with) do add our own hymn
But not with mere music or voice, no: surprise!
We’re made in God’s image; we sing with our lives.
Our lives are so precious to Him we hail king,
So today we toll bells—today loudly sing.
And tomorrow we go out—there is work to be done
For God will not quit until love overruns.

The nonsense of Christmas—it’s treasure, you see—
Is that God loves you, and that God loves me.