Sunday, October 08, 2017

A Day to Remember and Repent




It was 100 years ago today, on October 8, 1917, when the cornerstone was laid for our glorious, historic church building designed to be the "representative church" for the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. Today we remembered this historic occasion by telling our unvarnished truth, repenting of our sin, and then hanging a new banner, signed by many people in worship, next to the original cornerstone. You can learn more about our journey on our website. What follows is the litany we shared in worship.


Litany of Remembrance and Repentance

One:   Jesus said, “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”

All:    We confess that it is sometimes easier to hide the truth, especially when the truth binds and suffocates instead of setting people free.

One:   But the only way to be free is to tell the truth – the unvarnished truth.

All:    What is this truth?

One:   Our church was founded as the “representative church” for the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, the denomination formed in 1844 to support its members who wanted to hold slaves.

All:    Lord, forgive us and those who came before us.

One:   Our church was part of a denomination in which every bishop was a slaveholder.

All:    Lord, forgive us and those who came before us.

One:   Our church once bowed to cotton and Caesar more than to Jesus as Lord.

All:    Lord, forgive us and those who came before us.

 One:   We gather in a building constructed as a monument to America’s original sin.

All:    We lament a history in which people valued property over people.

We lament the ways in which this church contributed to the wounds of an entire nation.

We lament the proclamation of white supremacy and the belief that such a proclamation is consistent with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

One:   “Do you renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world, and repent of your sin?”

All:    We repent of every way in which we have failed to reject racism that denies the dignity of anyone, choosing to instead participate in, gain privilege from, or remain silent in the face of injustice in our judicial system, our educational system and our economic system.

One:   “Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?”

All:    We do. Forgive us for denying our power and choosing to instead be silent or apathetic in the face of racial injustice and intolerance. Give us wisdom and courage to disrupt, dismantle and destroy racism of every form, public and private, spoken and silent.

One:   “Do you confess Jesus Christ as your Savior, put your whole trust in his grace, and promise to serve him as your Lord, in union with the Church which Christ has opened to people of all ages, nations, and races?”

All:    We do. Forgive us for failing to remember how you made one body from Jew and Greek, male and female, slave and free. Help us to always find our most authentic selves in this community as we work to faithfully and fully embody our oneness in Christ Jesus.

One:   God, help us be the church.

All:    Jesus, enable us to be the most faithful church we can be as we seek to be a sign and symbol of your kingdom in this city, nation and world. Amen.

Saturday, September 30, 2017

Are You Ready to Welcome My Mom in the Morning?


If you follow me on Facebook, then you're likely aware that I post a PSA about every 90 days. Immediately after I visit the Melanoma and Skin Cancer Clinic, I share how many biopsies were needed or seek to capture my joy for not needing any at all before encouraging all who will read to please have their skin checked by a dermatologist. I've heard the words "skin cancer" multiple times and the dreaded word "melanoma" on four occasions - enough to have a Vitamin D deficiency at this point in my journey.

But my mother just heard the word "melanoma" spoken on the phone for the first time last week. Her primary care physician discovered an odd looking mole on her shin and insisted that it be removed. When the call came from the lab, she heard a sentence that includes "stage 3," "new skin cancer center," "appointment with specialist and plastic surgeon on Monday." She's since done her share of research with the aid of Google, and the results have been enough to keep her body awake at night as her mind ponders the worse case scenario.

I may not have helped today when I shared how she should prepare to spend at least two weeks in a recliner if a complex wound closure is needed. I've then reassured her that her diagnosis is worse than any of the four I've had - reassurance that's not exactly helpful in hindsight. And then I said once this morning and again this afternoon, "Mom, you really need a church."

My mom has always had a church. The child of a Methodist pastor, she was raised to never miss Sunday morning worship. She drug our sorry behinds out of bed every Sunday morning, regardless of where we had been the night before. My family was always at church. Faith was and is central to our lives.

But something has changed in the last few years. My mother moved back to Missouri to be near family, and going to church has become something she dreads. She's now in her 70s and single. An hour in a sanctuary has turned out to be one of the loneliest hours of the week. She reports how she sometimes only sees couples or families or groups of people who clearly know each other. Often, no one speaks to her even though it's clear she's a visitor. There is no other venue in the community where she feels more alone than in the church.

But she needs a church.

She needs a pastor who will pray for her. She needs a community where someone might feel called to accompany her to her doctor's appointment and where others might show up with a meal - even people she has never met before. She needs to be reminded that she is not alone - that we are never alone - no matter what we're going through.

She's visiting another church tomorrow.

If she comes to your church, are you ready to welcome her? Are there people in your congregation who are more eager to welcome a guest than they are to sit in their familiar spot? Is there someone in your pew who might reach up and simply acknowledge a visitor sitting nearby who they notice is crying? Is there a compassionate team of people who feel called to show up because God shows up and the only way we know God shows up is through us? Are there people in your church who feel called to care for people - and not just those whose names or stories they know? Will someone be with her - really be with her - in the weeks to come?

I hope so.

In fact, I'm counting on you to be this kind of church.

Because my mom really needs a church right now.

And as I ponder who might come into our sanctuary tomorrow, I pray no one goes unnoticed. If there is someone going through a crisis that has kept them up through the night, I pray they feel like they are seen. I pray someone notices their tears or their anxiety. I pray they know they do not have to be alone. And I pray I'll always be the kind of pastor who is eager to show up in the suffering and pain of life - when the darkness is far more visible than the light.

God, will you please help your churches be the fullest expression of your love and light that we can be? And, will you please help my mom find a church family who can journey with her during this season - and every other season of life? God, she's going to church again tomorrow. She's counting on your people showing up for her. Please help that congregation welcome her in the morning. Amen.

Friday, September 22, 2017

Tracking Faithfulness


"My obedience would be the only thing I would track."

The words echoed through my ears last Sunday afternoon when I sat around one of seven round tables hosting people who had come to learn how we can more faithfully be in ministry with people who are experiencing homelessness. The woman speaking was sharing her own story of being in community with people who are experiencing homelessness, a testimony that included admonitions to cherish dignity, kinship and mutuality. She had learned years ago that it's almost impossible to track success when it comes to ministry with people who sometimes face more obstacles than a turtle turned upside down until it rests on its shell. But her words opened an invitation for me to examine nearly every other aspect of my life.

What are the numbers you track?

What statistics have the power to define you?

I often track the number that appears on the scale while failing to track my obedience to counting calories on My Fitness Pal. Is it any wonder that one number doesn't budge much without the dedication to the other?

But what has the capacity to rob my joy even more are numbers related to my role as a pastor. And I know I'm not alone as I heard an extraordinarily gifted colleague share this week about all the good things happening in her church - the signs and wonders produced by people who are taking their discipleship seriously - before adding, "But our average worship attendance still gets me down."

Last week, while at Duke Divinity School, I heard a powerful testimony about the excellence being sought within the faculty. The professor of New Testament shared how the school is seeking to have "elite scholars who exemplify something of the subject matter they teach." The scholar knows that wisdom is about habits. "We have to become the person who thinks like the sort of person who lives as Christians when it comes to our loves, our passions and our habits." He then spoke of the hours of scholarship that are required for him to do his work. He cannot be faithful if he simply produces another book or offers a profound lecture that wows his students. His faithfulness comes through his obedience - his spiritual disposition, his deep and wise engagement with the text, his embodying the core practices of the church that transform us.

Too often we are tempted to believe that our objective is to have at least five people pat us on the back and say "great job," or worse yet, give us a standing ovation at least once a year. We have been seduced into believing that our faithfulness is measured by a number that the denomination most wants to know if you're a pastor. But what if, instead, we sought to track our faithfulness through these questions?

How much time did I spend searching the scriptures this week?

When did I put my own priorities aside to serve a neighbor in need?

Am I setting aside one day each week to find wonder, joy and delight in God and the gifts God has given to me? What are my practices of Sabbath keeping?

How much time do I devote to reading books that reveal a deeper understanding of who God is or how God is at work in the world?

Am I seeking to faithfully love God with my prayers, my presence, my gifts, my service and my witness?

Can people see what it means to be a Christian through my character?

If the life of another human being is what most motivates someone to follow Jesus, then how is my life motivating people to want to follow Jesus?

Am I fully seeking to love the Lord my God with my heart, soul, strength and mind?

I don't know about you, but I have some work to do.

And, I suspect that the more I track my own obedience to faithfulness, the more I'll see and sense God powerfully at work in my life and the world around me.

What will you track today?

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Allowing One's Light to Shine



"Wow! Look at my picture," Eddie said with a huge smile on his face. "It's really good!" he continued to exclaim as his feet shifted five steps back in order for his eyes to have a better view.

Eddie, a member of our church, was beholding his own work. He's been given a rather remarkable gift when it comes to drawing and painting, and he has often shared this gift with our community. 

I'll always cherish one Lenten season when our congregation was worshipping in a rented theatre across the street. Void of windows, especially the colorful stained glass kind, I invited Eddie to create a picture to accompany the sermon each week. For each of those six Monday mornings, Eddie would come to my office. I would read him the Gospel lesson to be proclaimed. Eddie would ask a few questions, "What does the devil look like?" or "How do I draw temptation?" He then would go home and return the next day with a colorful creation to be placed on our makeshift altar. He returned during that first week of Lent with a drawing that showed Jesus being tempted in the wilderness with such perfection that my words struggled to match it or elaborate upon it. 

I'm not sure when Eddie created the picture that is now in my office waiting to be hung. It seems to have been a request by one of our members who then took it and had it custom framed. I've held it in my space for a bit because I love looking at it. But I also want to find the perfect place for it in our church building - a place where many people can appreciate it. 

It's Eddie's work. He spent hours creating the scene of the boats, water and fishermen. He knows the piece of art well as he poured life and love into it. But Eddie had not seen someone else pour love into his work or really appreciate it. Eddie saw his own gifts in a whole new way when someone else took the time to recognize his gifts by taking his work to a frame shop. 

I cannot help but to wonder if the task of helping one's gifts shine in new ways is one of the greatest privileges and responsibilities of the church. One of our roles is to help people of all ages discover their gifts, encourage them to use their gifts in such a way that others are able to see their light, affirm them, and then watch as they discover a fuller sense of who they are and what they are capable of doing. In the words of Greg Jones, the former Dean of Duke Divinity School, we all need what he calls "holy friends." The church can cultivate such friendships as people point out the sins we have grown to love, name the gifts we have been afraid or unwilling to claim, and help people dream dreams they would never dream on their own.

Eddie's gifts have been showcased in a particular way for others to see when one of his pieces was framed for display. I saw other gifts showcased in a similar way on Sunday morning. Our congregation doesn't have a ministry intern this summer, something we have had in the previous few summers. As a result, a myriad of people have been helping with worship leadership. On this past Sunday morning, one person passionately led the call to worship and different prayers before inviting people to give, another person gathered with the children for a message designed just for them as he shared about his recent visit to Wesley's Chapel in London, another person described his first experience as a delegate to Annual Conference, and one person read the scripture lesson with power. Four individuals were given an opportunity to shine, and they brought their full selves for God and all in attendance to see. It was beautiful, and I have now seen gifts in some of them that I had never seen before. Even more, I now have the incredible joy of naming these gifts and extending additional invitations for them to use these gifts in a way that blesses our entire community.

Who first allowed you to use your gifts?
When did you first discover your particular talents?
What happened when other people started to affirm your gifts?

I pray our church will always be a place where people can step back and say, "Wow. I really do have something to offer this community and the wider world. Thank you, God, for this gift."

Who in your community has gifts that are ready to be placed on a lamp stand for all to see and behold?

Thursday, June 15, 2017

A More Permanent Response

"How are you responding?"

A dear friend called with this question yesterday morning. It's a question pastors are called to grapple with on a regular basis since senseless gun violence is part of American culture, almost as common as patriotic songs and apple pie on Flag Day.

"I'm angry," I said with fire in my mouth.

"But I don't know how to respond to tragedy in my backyard faithfully as I'm not sure I can also faithfully name every other precious child of God who has been gunned down on the streets of America."

I realize this one hit close to home, and it's a Member of Congress along with Congressional staff, the first badge I wore in Washington. But what about others? Can we get as incensed with their murders or gunshot wounds as we do when those with power are the latest victims of America's addiction to guns and the handcuffs placed on countless Members of Congress by the NRA?

How will I respond?

I'll pray. I'll pray fervently for all who were on that ball field yesterday morning. I'll pray for those who knew and loved the shooter. I'll pray for those who were shot and in recovery. I'll pray for every ear who heard the pops coming from guns.

I'll promise to pray not only when guns are shot in a community I know well but when tragedy strikes all around our city and nation - which is exhausting to even think about.

But I'll also pray for wisdom and courage to know my role in speaking out against, marching for, and playing my part in helping our country grapple with its gun addiction and remove assault rifles from ordinary citizens in our country.

Why is it that it takes one of their own being shot for Congress to come together as one body? What would it take for this same body to come together and wrestle with a more complicated question, "What is my role, my responsibility, in making sure this never happens again?"

Come, Prince of Peace, and help me be an instrument of your peace.

Monday, May 15, 2017

The Sight and Sound of Gratitude

I have a new favorite thing. I love pushing the new "thankful" button on Facebook or opening a post to which someone has reacted with "thankful." I used the button so many times over the weeekend while responding to a friend's new family portraits that I even apologized for causing so much noise in her life!

And while my husband is a bit annoyed at the new sound filling our home on a regular basis, I smile every time I hear the noise and see the flowers dancing across my screen. The sight and sound literally fills me with joy!

And I wonder. Does gratitude always offer the gift of joy?


We are midway through a series on vocation, call and work, one of my favorite topics to wrestle with. Yesterday we talked about work's challenges, using Moses as our guide. Can you imagine how many times Moses must have been tempted to toss his hands in the air and walk away? He is simply trying to be faithful to God's call on his life but is constantly surrounded by people who quarrel, grumble and bicker. The Israelites are being led from bondage to freedom. They receive one miracle after another whether it is bread from heaven or a walk on dry ground. But all they can see is what's missing - what they don't have. Meanwhile Moses remains faithful as he cries out to God, uses the tools God has given to him, and continues on the journey.

But how many of us walk through life like the Israelites? How many of us wake up thinking about what we want instead of what we have in our midst, under our noses, in our possession? We may have an abundance but can only see what's missing, reducing our lens to the myth of scarcity.

On the contrary, what if living a life of gratitude literally adds joy to our days like the purple flowers dancing across our iPhones? What if seeking to always first behold what we have and giving thanks for these things before ever pondering what we want but don't yet have is the key, the secret, to a more abundant life?

I'm looking for more purple flowers in my life. I want to be thankful at all times and in all seasons.

What about you?

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Look What's Here!!!!


I'm long overdue for writing and have a dozen ideas for different blog entries I want to share with you. But for now, I am celebrating the arrival of "A New Day in the City." Roger and I started working on it nearly three years ago, and my first copies arrived on Friday. The book offers seven conversations for congregations who long to experience revival: pruning, strategy, vision, mission/evangelism, excellence, and working together. It's the book I wish I had when I first arrived at Mount Vernon Place nearly twelve years ago, and I pray it inspires new life in congregations near and far. It's been a privilege to work with both Roger and the folks at Abingdon. I am over the moon excited about this book!