"Maybe I'm NOT Starving..."

Last weekend, five members of our confirmation class, two friends from Our Saviour's UCC, and four adults went hungry. For 30 hours. More specifically, we participated in World Vision's 30-Hour Famine, a “a worldwide movement of students who are serious about serving God and fighting hunger—all on an empty stomach.” And we, just like 18% of our world's population (or 20% of U.S. children), we went hungry for a day. 

Now, it's not like we sat around and stared at each other for 24 hours, listening to our stomachs growl. We played games, watched videos about world hunger, visited tenants and served lunch at a local assisted living facility, and watched a fantastic documentary about hunger in the United States called "A Place at the Table" (go check it out!). By my observation, this documentary is what really hit home with our groups that weekend. By the time we sat down to watch it, we hadn't consumed anything--with the exception of some apple juice or grape juice--for about 26 hours. We had just served lunch to 40 senior citizens, and beef stew had NEVER smelled that good. As Thomas A. Dorsey sang, we were tired; we were weak; we were worn.

And while we dozed in and out of catnaps through the documentary, one thing became abundantly clear to us: we are not starving. We were hungry, sure. But for those of us locked in the church that weekend, we had taken solace in knowing that, once 6 p.m. rolled around, we'd have food from Fat Bruce's waiting for us. And some of us had been getting text messages asking what we'd want to eat at home after the unimaginable action of not eating had been completed. 

But you know what? Unfortunately, it isn't unimaginable. Nearly one billion people go hungry every day. In our own nation, the wealthiest nation in the history of the world, fifty million people--one in four children--don't know where their next meal is coming from. ONE IN FOUR. This enrages me. And this weekend, it shocked some of our youth, as well.  Praise God.

In our discovering injustices like this, a holy anger can develop. And I do believe it can be a holy anger. As we all know, learning doesn't always lead to happy celebrations. Sometimes, learning something new can open a Pandora's Box to the injustices of the world, imbalances among God's children, and complete breaches from what God has called us to do. Isaiah proclaimed this very same holy anger throughout his prophetic lifetime. God's word spoke through Isaiah, who called out to the people unaware of injustices in his time in this way:

Is not this the fast that I choose:
   to loose the bonds of injustice,
   to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
   and to break every yoke? 
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
   and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
   and not to hide yourself from your own kin? 
if you offer your food to the hungry
   and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
   and your gloom be like the noonday. 
The Lord will guide you continually,
   and satisfy your needs in parched places,
   and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
   like a spring of water,
   whose waters never fail. (Isaiah 58:6-7, 10-11)

What is the fast we choose? Is it to share our food with the hungry? Is it to satisfy the needs of those who are really hurting? And what does it really mean to do those things? Over the course of the weekend, we spoke about what it might mean for us--and by all means, talk with the youth about their thoughts coming out of the weekend! They'd be happy to share. But these are demands that we should all be taking under consideration. 

What is the fast that you choose?

Sermon Reflection | March 10, 2013

Read: 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 and Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Listen: Embracing Grace
Dig a little deeper: 
     Okay, then again, don't read the scripture above.  Just watch this: the Prodigal Son, Finding Nemo style! (But really, do read it because the Finding Nemo version doesn't have the jealous brother in it).

     This song is just a tad too sappy for my taste, but you might really like it. 

     A trailer for the movie, "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner," the ultimate awkward family dinner (NOT in fact starring Audrey Hepburn)

     I didn't use Kate Huey's commentary this week too much in my own sermon, but she always writes stuff that makes me think while warming my heart.  

Sermon Follow-up, and some questions:

I truly believe this is one of the most relateable stories in the Bible.  There is no family that goes without any kind of rift, whether it's something small as not liking the way they clean and manage their time or as big as an extra-marital affair and drug addiction.  We all have them, and Jesus knows that, so he tells this story. 

This wasn't even new to the New Testament.  Even Micah, 500-700 years earlier, spoke, "For the son treats the father with contempt, the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; your enemies are members of your own household.  But as for me, I will look to the Lord, I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me." Micah 7:6-7.  

To make this passage even more important-- not only can we all relate to it, but it carries the subjects that nag us when we go to sleep at night.  We are all burdened by the rifts in our relationships.  Every single one of us feels a heavy weight that we wish we could forgive and be forgiven. 

What do you think?  How does this passage relate to you (if that's something you even want to share on a public forum, of course!)?  When it comes to those controversial topics of how the story fits into our culture and society, how do you feel?  When it comes to welcoming people into our faith community, how do you feel?

Painting depicting the Prodigal Son, by James Janknegt

And finally, on another note:

I want to put in a plug for a pastor-friend, Rev. Rob Leveridge, who is nearing the end of his Kickstarter campaign to raise the funds to put together a really great progressive Christian music CD.  Please take a minute to check out his video here, and consider donating as much or as little as you can to his project.  He's got a good thing going for him!  And if nothing else, you will be inspired by the video he's put together. 

 

The Lord's Prayer Mini-Sermon

Three weeks ago I had the privilege of giving my first ever "mini-sermon" at Pres House, my church in Madison. Three other students and I each spoke for about five minutes about Matthew 6:5-13, which specifically looks at the Lord's Prayer and praying in general. During the week leading up to the day I gave my sermon, I had a wonderful and challenging time thinking about what this passage was saying to me, and how I would put these thoughts into words to share with others.

As someone who grew up in a small, First Congregational United Church of Christ in Ripon, Wisconsin, going to church never really required me to memorize anything. I know neither the Apostles’ Creed, nor any Hail Mary’s, and I cannot sing to you the books of the Bible, much less in the correct order.  However, there is one prayer that has managed to find a place in my long-term memory from ever since I was about 6 years old: The Lord’s Prayer.

This week, as I was thinking about my seemingly barren arsenal of memorized Christian prayers, I began to wonder why this New Testament passage was the only one my church at home says every single week. Further, if it is especially important why do I only think about it on Sundays?

As I picked at these questions and thought deeper about the prayer, I realized that one section really bothered me, Matthew 6: 9-13. It says, Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Normally when I pray, I politely ask God for things, but quickly let him know that I completely understand if he doesn’t want to fulfill my desires. This passage sounds demanding to me. I feel like I’m saying, “Hey God, I know you’re all powerful and I’m pretty dopy, but I’ve got a few demands for you, and I’m going to remind you of them every single week.” This feels unsettling to me.

I thought more about what we mean when we pray these verses so directly, and I’ve found a reason that rests well with me. I believe the text is worded to God so straightforwardly, because we pray the Lord’s Prayer as broken, needy people. God recognizes we have a few desires that didn't make it on to Maslow's hierarchy of needs, but are no less important to our spiritual life. While we yearn for earthly things like food, safety and self-esteem, we also need forgiveness of debts, leadership out of temptation and deliverance from evil. We mandate these things from God, because he alone can fulfill them and without them we are nothing.  

To me, what we mean when we say the Lord’s Prayer is, “God, you are great and your name is holy. On earth, you teasingly show us your wonderfully mysterious heaven. Each day you nourish our bodies, minds and spirits more so than Thanksgiving dinners, the New York Times and yoga ever will. You forgive us when we make mistakes and show us how to live purposeful lives through the example of your son. We often deviate from the God GPS, but you scoop us up and bring us home always. You do all of this for us, God, because you are the kingdom we dream about as children. You are more powerful than any military, medication or Apple product. And you are more glorious than a million starry nights. You are greater than all of these things, forever.

As Jesus reminds us earlier in Matthew, prayer is not to be a boastful practice. If a good prayer is a vanilla cake, we are not to layer heaping portions of frosting and sprinkles on its top. Further, the Lord’s Prayer is not just a “Sunday prayer” when we are surrounded by a loving congregation. It’s a prayer for the middle of the week when we’re in our most challenging, lonely moments. It is for when absolutely nobody can grasp us from the trouble we’re in. It’s for when we huddle in a corner with tear-soaked faces. In these moments, recitation of the Lord’s Prayer reminds us that we are made full each and every day. God lights our ominous caves and is the epitome of might.

After attending church about 45 weeks per year for 20 years, I estimate I’ve listened to or spoken the Lord’s Prayer roughly 900 times, but this week was the first time I dissected its meaning for myself. I feel tremendously comforted by the fact that this prayer is my Swiss army knife for life. It has a tool for forgiveness, leadership and deliverance and offers the promise of God’s kingdom, power and glory forever. I encourage you, too, to think critically about the Lord’s Prayer and find an intimate meaning in whichever message you find. In times when coffee, Wikipedia and Ben and Jerry’s are not enough, I challenge you to remember the Lord’s divine words through his prayer. Amen.

This experience taught me that, with God's help, we all have the ability to find an intimate meaning in scripture.

Andrea

Sermon Reflection | March 4, 2013

Read: Isaiah 55:1-9 and Psalm 63:1-8
Listen: Drink a Gallon of Water Every Day
Dig a Little Deeper: 

I have several pastor-friends who are doing Lenten blog series' of some sort or another.  You'd be blessed to check them out!

• Rev. Emily C. Heath is the pastor of West Dover Congregational Church in West Dover, Vermont. She is doing a daily Lenten reflection.  
• Rev. Rachel Hackenberg is an author/speaker/pastor doing a Lenten prayer/poetry blog.  
• The Northwest Ohio Association of the UCC put together a series of Lenten resources on their blog.  
• Several of my pastor-buddies are contributing to this UCC series called "Peek, ponder, pray" a quick daily meditation.  
• I loved, loved, loved this Lenten blog last year called "Words Matter," but apparently I was the only one who loved it because it disappeared about halfway through Lent.  Still, you can read the posts that did go up!
• I hope to add more; waiting for permissions! 

So, what kind of spiritual disciplines work for you?  What do you wish your prayer life looked like?