Thursday, July 18, 2024

MUSIC: "Joan Of Arc" (Cohen/Warnes)


She said, "I'm tired of the war,
I want the kind of work I had before,
a wedding dress or something white
to wear upon my swollen appetite.

Friday, July 12, 2024

GOSPEL: "Empty Me Out" (Liz Vice)


Empty me out / Fill me with youLord there is nothin' / I can give to youI lay down my life / Here at your feetYou give me life / So completely
Now, I... I died with you / Was buried with youThe moment I believedAnd I... I rose with you / Ascended with youInto the heavenlies
Lord, it's not me / It's you inside of meAnd Jesus, You're all / These eyes can see
Empty me out / Fill me with youLord there is nothin' / I can give to youI lay down my life / Here at your feetYou give me life / So completely
Now, I... I died with you / Was buried with youThe moment I believedI... I rose with you / Ascended with youInto the heavenlies
I... I died with you / Was buried with youThe moment I believedI... I rose with you / Ascended with youInto the heavenlies
Lord, it's not me / It's you inside of meJesus, you're all / These eyes can see
Lord, it's not me / It's you inside of meJesus, you're all / These eyes can see
Empty me outEmpty me outSo completely

Liz Vice, "Empty Me Out"

Interesting...that this song, this lyric opens my heart anew to Paul's celebration of 'kenosis'...the emptying out of ego, of self-assessment, of attachments...that reveals God's desire, God's peace, even God's silence in my soul.  "It's you inside of me / Jesus, you're all these eyes can see."  What does such a practice mean in a world so fractured by division and fear?  If we 'empty' ourselves out -- as disciples of Christ Jesus, with the 'same mind' -- what kind of presence and hope might fill us for neighbors and friends and siblings ravaged by fear?

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

who, though he was in the form of God,
   did not regard equality with God
   as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
   taking the form of a servant,
   being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
   he humbled himself
   and became obedient to the point of death—
   even death on a cross.

Therefore God also highly exalted him
   and gave him the name
   that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
   every knee should bend,
   in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
   that Jesus Christ is Lord,
   to the glory of God...

Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for God's good pleasure.

Do all things without murmuring and arguing, so that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, in which you shine like stars in the world. It is by your holding fast to the word of life that I can boast on the day of Christ that I did not run in vain or labour in vain. But even if I am being poured out as a libation over the sacrifice and the offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you— and in the same way you also must be glad and rejoice with me.

Philippians 2

MUSIC: "Dance With A Stranger"

Friday, June 28, 2024

HOMILY: "Storms and Rainbows" (For Pride)

A Meditation for Pride Sunday
June 23, 2024
Community Church of Durham (UCC)
Mark 4:35-41; Genesis 1

1.

We’ll get to the great gale, and the pounding waves, and the little boat, and Jesus asleep in the stern. But, first, a little bit about Pride, Portsmouth Pride, and what it means to us, what it means to the church.

What Pride does for me every year, every time, is it reminds me that the universe is bigger and sweeter than I could possibly understand. And the human community, too. We are even more diverse, and even more wonderful, and even more unpredictable that I could ever figure. I see that at Pride, in the faces of lovers walking arm and arm—without shame—across the fields of Strawberry Banke. I hear it in the buzz of a crowd unrestrained, unfazed, undaunted by politics—and simply and joyfully happy to celebrate life and being alive together. And with all that going on, every year, every Pride, I’m reminded that God too is bigger and sweeter than I could possibly say, that God too is even more wonderful, even more unpredictable, even more creative than I could ever figure.

Because here’s the thing. I believe, with all of you, with my beloved community: I believe that we are created in the image of God. All of us. The global community. “We” are created in the image of God. The whole human family. So all that love yesterday, all that diversity at Pride, all the ways of forming and honoring families, all the paths to commitment and kindness, all the piercing and all the tattoos, and the drag queens and the butch lesbians, and the five-year-old girl doted on by two moms and the teen playing frisbee with two dads. All of that love, all of that diversity is nothing else but the image of God revealed in plain daylight, the image of God revealed in the here and now, the image of God uncovered and unfettered and unfiltered. If you and I are made in the image of God, then we all are. God doesn’t get selective with that kind of thing: that’s not our faith, that’s not the gospel, that’s not the tradition we live in. We are created in the image of God—and if we’re even a little curious about who God is, and how God moves, and what kind of God would call us into the light—we should open our eyes and look around. At Pride. But not just at Pride. Every day. Everywhere. Because if we’re made in the image of God, the face of God is everywhere to be seen. We only have to open our eyes and look around.

That bit about being made in the image of God is, of course, right out the very first chapter of the Bible, the first creation story in the Book of Genesis. And it’s important to note that, in that particular creation story, God creates all humans, all genders, all of us together, in the image of God. And the point of God’s creating humankind isn’t the Ozzie and Harriet nuclear family. And it’s not the dominance of one gender over all the others. And it’s not about any kind of hierarchy or system of privilege at all. It’s about tending the earth’s gardens, and it’s about loving the earth’s creatures, and it’s about protecting the fish of the sea and naming the birds of the air, and it’s about loving creation in all the same ways God does.

In other words, and this is important in an essential way for the church, God creates humankind that God might have co-creating partners on the planet. God creates humankind that God might have co-creating partners on the planet. God can’t create alone. God can’t love in isolation. God can’t celebrate and dance and grow things and nurture life on the planet without co-creating partners. And that’s us. We’re the co-creating partners God needs, God desires, God loves into being. And every June, at every Pride Celebration I’ve been to—and I’ve been to many—every time I experience a growing and exuberant and brave human community that is ready, willing and eager to go. The co-creating partners God needs. In a world of profound sadness. In a world desperate for exuberance and courage. God needs us.

So when God creates all genders, all humans in God’s own image—it’s not to establish the dominance of some over others, and it’s not to set up purity codes that honor and protect some and demonize or demoralize others. All of that misogyny, and all of that homophobia, and all of the patriarchy and bigotry that follows—it’s all human beings missing the point and missing the mark. What God desires is partnership, all of us, all genders, male, female, queer and nonbinary, gay and straight, lesbian and trans, all of us. What God desires is a human community of co-creating partners—willing to celebrate creation with God, eager to dance upon the planet in circles of joy and blessing, committed to loving the fields, forests, mountains and fountains of the earth with every cell in our beings. Co-creating partners. That’s what it means to be made in the image of God. Nothing less.

2.

So Pride was fantastic, fabulous yesterday. It gets better and bigger and wilder every year. Parades and music, booths and energy, and people, people, people.  Beautiful people!

And I want to tell just one story about yesterday’s festivities. And the odd thing is that I wasn’t even around to experience it. But I was greeted at our table by a couple of different versions. And I think it speaks powerfully, delightfully to this whole bit about human vocation and the image of God.

I’m told that when our team arrived early yesterday morning to set up the table for us, and erect the tent that served as our canopy for the day, they discovered a windier, blustery-er Portsmouth than they’d expected. And, as some of you know, putting up a tent is a little more complicated when the wind’s blowing in off the sea. One of our team laughed as he captured the scene: that it took seven, eight of you, working with strange parts you’d never worked with, fending off pieces whipping in the wind, laughing all the while, erecting that tent and finally getting it up and secured to the ground. I think one of you put it this way: “It was wacky. And there were moments when we all wondered if it would really happen.”

And then the team noticed a single person in the spot next to ours, who was calmly and methodically putting up a similar tent, by herself. Just herself. In a matter of seconds. No craziness. No drama. Just a tent. Like she'd done it a thousand times before.

See, I think the image of God is the eight of you, it’s revealed in the eight of you, collaborating, flailing in the wind, wondering if it’ll ever work, laughing at silliness of it all, and finally getting it done. That’s our vocation. That’s where the image of God is made plain and real and compelling for the world to see. The co-creating partners God has needed all along. Flailing in the wind. Showering one another with laughter. Creating a shelter for celebration on a windy day! The church is always at its best—maybe even its prophetic best—when we’re doing wonderful, faithful, wacky things together with love and laughter. And showing the world all that God can do with co-creating partners on a windy day!

And by the way, we could say the very same thing about a group of 15 putting together an anthem every week and giving that anthem away to us on Sunday morning. We could say the very same thing about another group of 15 committing time, energy and prayer to the accompaniment of immigrant friends who come to us looking not so much for answers, but friendship, partnership, persistence and hope. The church is always at its best—maybe even its prophetic best—when we’re doing wonderful, faithful, wacky things together with love and laughter.