Link

To go along with the post on Children in Worship I put up last night, check out this post from *That* Mom. She writes about being a mom with two young children in worship, and she writes more eloquently than I about what it means for children to be full members of the Body of Christ.

children

The congregation I'm part of is experiencing children in new ways. Long ago, when the congregation was a bit younger, the children who were in worship were the children of the adults who were also in worship. Some of the adults are still around, but their children have grown up, and may have children of their own ~ though most of them don't live close.

Most of the children in worship now have parents along, though some show up with grandparents or other relatives. The difference, in part, as I understand it, is that now there is a great deal more diversity in the age and life circumstance of the adult population at the congregation I'm part of.

There has been some conversation expressing concern about disruptive behavior and noise levels that come along with younger children.

I understand these concerns. When I go somewhere, I want to be able to participate in the activity that is happening in that place ~ after all, it's why I went to that place. When I go out to eat, if someone makes it impossible for me to have dinner, I have a problem with that. The same is true if I go to the theater, or to the baseball game, or to the grocery store. I want to be able to watch the play, to cheer for the home team, to purchase food to feed my family. If someone takes away my ability to do those things, I won't be happy.

So I understand the reaction from some people when screaming children disrupt the sermon, or toddlers' toys make it tough to pass the peace. The disruptions in the liturgy don't allow others to worship. And even though I've been known to quote an old pastor I used to know by saying that my favorite sound to hear in the middle of a sermon is a screaming baby, it can cause me grief too.

I certainly understand how people agree that it would be good to keep children out of worship until they can behave appropriately. Once they learn how to keep quiet and not disturb people around them, then they can join the congregation. Once they learn how to be in worship, then they can pay attention, and get something out of the service.

***

You might guess that I come at this from a different angle. First of all, I wonder why we gather for worship? Do we get together on Sunday mornings so that we can feel good about ourselves, so we can 'get our spiritual tank filled', so the upcoming week doesn't feel like there's something missing? Who is the worship service for? If it's only for the individual person who shows up, then we're doing something wrong. A person can get their individual spiritual needs met much better at yoga, in the mountains, or even through retail therapy.

If worship is for the community, we have a better starting place. Then, even if I don't feel like showing up on Sunday morning, even if I don't need to be there for myself, I might recognize that someone else in the community needs me to be there. Further, as we join together in community, we can remind ourselves that our god is not (only) personal, but that G-d calls us together in community even as G-d is community. We are reminded that we, together, are the Body of Christ, made whole in worship and broken for the sake of a broken world that longs for healing and wholeness.

But I believe that worship is not for me ~ the point is not to meet my spiritual need. Neither is worship for the community ~ that just sets up the leadership as either performers, or as providing a service for the consumers.

Worship, rather, is for G-d. One ridiculously counter-cultural thing about worship is that the focus is away from the self, which rarely happens in our society. And if worship is for G-d, who am I to say that by screaming, a baby isn't making a joyful noise to the Lord?

But they don't understand what's going on in worship, I've heard people say. Yes, that's probably true. But I don't understand what's going on in worship all the time, either. Christ is in, with, and under the bread and wine ... ? What does that mean? People are moved to tears by singing a song? How does that happen? Plus, even if they don't look like adults do when we're paying attention, they most certainly are absorbing much more than we often give them credit for, especially with regard to ritual. There's one child who is too young to follow the children's sermon, but comes up every week. He moves around through the circle, sometimes disrupting our brief conversation. But as soon as I say the ritual line, "Let's stand and we'll pray together" (it's exactly the same every week, on purpose), he's right there, holding hands in the circle just like all the other children.

As much as they may disturb us, children belong in worship. If we say to them, '... when you're a little older ...', or '... when you can behave a little better ...', or '... you're not quite ready ...', we say through our actions that children are not as valuable as adults. And in not valuing children (people) as they are right now, we teach them that they need to be different before they're acceptable by the church (and by default, by G-d). Is that really the message we want to send?

Maybe the next time you go to worship, that one child will be there in the seat right in front of you. You know from past experience that they'll be a little louder than you're comfortable with. You know that you'll barely be able to follow along, and that you have no hope of hearing the sermon. Maybe you don't need to hear the sermon that day ... maybe G-d is calling you to pay attention to that child (of G-d) for the morning, so that the child and her family knows that they have a place in the Body of Christ.

$0.02

Radio Poem

I'd like to hear a poem,
verse I've written,
read by Garrison Keillor ~
that gentle baritone
intoning slowly, deliberately,
maybe not with the same emphasis
as I would read it

spoken onto the pages
of a writer's almanac
or perhaps as a companion
in some prairie home

I wouldn't mind,
so much,
receiving those 15 minutes,
undeserved though they may be

since the verse from my pen
- or fingertips, here in this modern era -
is barely suitable for journals,
those that are long-forgotten,
discovered (again)
only after my grandkids are old

and then only suitable
as quaint nostalgia
or, perhaps,
put to actual good use
starting the hearth fire

Candles

in worship, the candles didn't stay lit
candles we lit to recognize our prayers
kept going out

the sanctuary, without air conditioning, was hot
the breeze from the fans,
open windows and doors,
was welcome on our faces, on our arms
cooling our skin just a bit

but the same breeze
disturbed the candles of our prayers

Holy Spirit, in scripture
is wind, and is fire

is Holy Spirit, in our worship,
the rush of wind blowing through our midst
or tongues of flame giving us words
to communicate grace and compassion?

in worship, the candles didn't stay lit
but we weren't quite so miserable

is Holy Spirit bringing comfort,
or disturbing our life?

Sermon for Proper 5, June 6

With the recognition that a sermon is not the written word, but what happens in the midst of the interaction between preacher and community, here's last Sunday's sermon (which is as close as I ever really get to preaching from a manuscript).

The Gospel text was Luke 7:11-17.

she’s all alone in the world ~ at least she will be in a day or two
for now she’s surrounded by mourners, the funeral procession making its way down the street

the widow’s dead son takes our minds immediately to the Elijah story
(even if you aren’t familiar with it, this story is our first reading)
where we’ve encountered another widow
who also has only one son, and whose son also dies,
leaving her alone
knowing that in the reality of her society, she’ll have no way to provide for herself
but here at Nain, though she might have held out hope for a time
she had no prophet living with her to heal her son
while he still lay on his deathbed

now they’re on their way to the cemetery
and tomorrow, or the day after, she’ll become a nobody once again
and then even more of a nobody than she was last week
tomorrow, or the day after, once the mourners are gone,
she’ll be a widow without an heir
and having no one to care for her, she’ll be pushed even more to the margins than she has been
today, through her dead son, she’s at the center of the community
today, at least for one day, she’ll be noticed
after today, she likely won’t be noticed again until her own funeral … if there even is one for her

but here in the middle of the road,
while they’re on their way out of the city
they meet Jesus and his entourage,
who are on their way into the city
here at the gate, Jesus stops the funeral procession,
he blocks their way

the story makes a point of calling him ‘The Lord’
now the idea of ‘Lord’, kyrios in Greek,
is often tied to oppression
to a commander,
to someone who is the boss or master over others
they certainly would have been familiar with this term
because of the Roman soldiers who occupied their land

in taking that title within the text, Jesus ties the title ‘Lord’
not to oppression but compassion
he takes it on not as a commander, but as a servant
not a boss or master over us
but a boss or master under us,

eventually turning the world upside down on the cross
he does not command us to go while he stays behind
but calls us to follow where he leads
he turns that idea of Lord around so much,
that even now we regularly sing Kyrie Eleison ~ Lord, have mercy ~ to our God who we know as merciful
and whose mercy we have seen on the cross

before we even get to the cross, though, we’re at the city gate
Jesus, the Lord, showing compassion
(we know, but they don’t yet),
interrupts them in the midst of their grieving
now having an interruption in the middle of a wedding isn’t desirable, but it might be fun
an interruption in the middle of Sunday worship isn’t high on my list, but we can work with it
to have a stranger interrupt a funeral
really throws an undesirable wrench into a sacred occasion

I tend to think of Jesus’ actions being welcomed
by most people he encountered
sure, the Pharisees and Sadducees had issues,
and sometimes the disciples might be embarrassed by him putting them in their place, but we understand that
I can’t imagine this widow being too happy
with this interruption in her grief, and in this final day where she gets to be close to the center of attention

but then, when her son rises up from the coffin and starts to talk
and we are taken once more back to the Elijah story
where the son of the widow of Zarephath was raised from the dead
the despair and hopeless that both of these women experience
is replaced with at least the temporary alleviation
of the pain of the death of their child and livelihood


it’s more than just a miracle ~ water to wine was nothing compared to death

when her son rises up from the coffin and starts to talk
everything changes
Jesus interrupts her day, but interrupts with mercy
granting her son new life
granting her new life
and granting us all a brief glimpse of the Reign of God
where the power of death is drained of all effect

this is good news to the widow,
and is certainly good news to her son

but honestly,
it doesn’t do squat for all the other widows whose sons died that day
it doesn’t seem to help any of us who have experienced the death of someone close to us

but there’s a deeper truth here
the deeper truth, when we dig for it, is that it does help us
Jesus interrupts her,
and the interruption isn’t trivial
you know she had other problems in her life
just like we all do
but the one she faces here is the one that is the most significant
it’s the one that trips us up, the problem of ultimate importance
the problem that we can’t get away from
she’s facing death ~
the death of her son, and to some degree her own death as well

and Jesus steps in, inconveniently interrupting the funeral
interrupting her grieving
interrupting her death
Jesus steps in and reorients her entire life
restoring her familial relationship
and her relationship with the almighty


Jesus steps in, inconveniently interrupting our lives
interrupting our grieving with resurrection joy
interrupting our troubles with the people of God, the body of Christ
interrupting our loneliness with baptismal belonging
interrupting our hunger and thirst with the bread of life and the cup of salvation
interrupting our death with new life


this is how we experience salvation
we experience salvation in the restoration of relationship
of the mother and the son together
in our broken and mended relationships with one another,

and most notably, we experience in our salvation
restored relationship with our God
who meets us in death, that most mortal of experiences
and who loves us through death and into new life.

For what it's worth.

Front Porch

I left the front porch last night
late last night
I left the cool breeze
strobe lightning
drive-by stereos
and pedestrian conversations

I left the front porch,
the comfortable swing suspending me
between had-been and is-to-come
heeding the call of the dream world
I left the front porch waiting for morning

and now I am
suspended in the wakening dawn
air cool with urban irrigation
suspended now nearer the
is-to-come
than whatever might have been

paper

weekly publications carry for me no appeal
hold my interest not at all
too quickly written and sooner discarded
time is not all that is wasted

in this age of compartmentalized private transit
of earphoned i-pods compartmentalizing
and private-izing public transit
when cellphone web browsers get us
what we *need*
faster than magazines four days old
and five days obsolete

I yearn to slow down,
to feel paper in my hands
and allow my eyes to take in inked letters
again and again
to languish over literature
while tea steeps or coffee waits to be pressed

to slow down
experience a bit of sabbath with others
receive a bit of grace

to be still,
and recognize who is God