Inward Journey (Sermon)

Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying.  But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42)

I had another sermon planned and prepared.

I switched the readings and prayers between this week and next, because I wanted to preach a two-part sermon on the inward journey and the outward journey of faith.  The journey we make through prayer and contemplation, and the journey we make through action and mission. It made more sense to me to start with the inward journey, exemplified by Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus, and then to move on to the outward journey, with the Good Samaritan modeling attentiveness to the stranger.  Plus next week is our afternoon service of prayer and music on the eve of the convention, a service that constitutes a statement by us of our willingness as a congregation to participate in the outward journey, to offer our prayers in service of our city and nation.

I had a plan.

And then Alton Sterling was shot and killed by a police officer in Baton Rouge.  And then Philando Castile was shot and killed by a police officer in Minneapolis.    And then five law enforcement officers were shot and killed by a sniper in Dallas as they were engaged in the sacred work of protecting Americans who were themselves exercising their sacred right to protest the loss of black lives. 

And then I read an essay by a friend who is the white mother to a black son, a son who is a charming three-year old, and who says that when she and her husband adopted him, people asked her how she was going to prepare to mother her black son.  Twelve years ago, no one asked how she was going to prepare to mother her white daughter.

And then I read an essay by a friend whose white stepson is a law enforcement officer in Florida, and about how she recognizes the risks of his life, and the lives of his wife and children,

And so my plans changed.  And so for the third time in six weeks I am wearing the stole Rev.Rosalind Hughes made for me, the orange stole to protest gun violence.  And once again I find myself compelled to preach about events which affect all of us.

How so? You might be asking?  What do any of these events -- shootings in Baton Rouge and Minneapolis and Dallas have to do with us, here in Bay?  And what does the turmoil in our black communities have to do with us, in this beautiful lakeside city in which we strive to maintain a safe and welcoming environment for all?  And what does any of it have to do with Jesus and Mary and Martha.?

Now I know how many Marthas are here in this congregation. And Marthas are out in full force right now -

bringing casseroles

organizing protests
working to change the underlying attitudes and structures which give rise to this persistent violence in our nation

But today we also see Martha’s sister Mary
refusing to be distracted
focusing on Jesus
on Jesus who is headed toward Jerusalem
headed toward that place and time in his life where he will confront injustice and violence head on, and will himself be subjected to both

Mark no mistake about it
Jesus is not only the Son of God who reminds us over and over again to love one another
Jesus is not only the Son of God wililng to make the ultimate sacrifice
Jesus is also the Son of God born into an oppressed people –

Jesus is the Son of God who fully aligns himself with

those who are poor,

those who are disenfranchised,
those who are subjected to oppression and violence and
those who face daily the destruction of their lives and communities.

That's the Jesus to whom Mary is listening.
That's the Jesus to whom we are called to listen.

We struggle so  to listen intently.

We struggle mightily to grow in our inner lives of the spirit

we are quite naturally do-ers like Martha - in church, at home, at work

we live in a culture in which busyness and achievement are valued and rewarded
we don't really learn to listen
in ordinary conversation - we are waiting for our turn!
to God - we focus on our liturgy and on intercessory prayer
such important aspects of our faith lives -

but seldom on LISTENING
which is where deep prayer begins

You know this, many of you, already, in your personal lives

You pray and pray and pray for someone or something, and the situation does not change,
and eventually you begin to pray for patience
and for courage and for resilience,
and perhaps eventually you begin
to watch and listen for what GOD is saying and doing

This is the prayer to which Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus, calls us
We pray -- as we are also called to do - for those killed and injure
We pray -- as we are called to do -- for those who protect and lead us
But we also pray by listening and watching
What is Jesus saying to each of us?

We pray by putting aside our eagerness to defend ourselves,

to maintain the status quo, to stay in our protected world

And we listen to the one who does none of those things --
Who is not defensive,
not bent on maintaining things as they are,
Not seeking to protect himself --

Jesus, visiting Mary and Martha, is on his way to Jerusalem

their home is safe and comfortable, but he is not going to stay there
Jerusalem is the place to which he has to go to confront
and overcome violence and injustice
the cross is the destination which he has to face in order to triumph
over all that seeks to destroy us - over death itself

So this week, like Mary: we re called to listen to him
We are told to put aside our own priorities and preoccupations
We are directed to let go of our own biases and preconceptions

What is Jesus saying to you,

how is he speaking to you,
through the lives and voices of those who have been killed,
and through the lives and voices of the communities who mourn them?

If we are truly sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to Jesus’ voice,

Then we know that he speaks for those whose voices are so often silenced
and we know that his call is always to that which gives life. 

How is he calling each of us this morning?

*******

The above is more or less what I preached this morning.  I have been preaching more and more from outlines ~ the briefer, the better ~ but I had some things I wanted to be sure not to forget or garble today, and so I wrote much more than usual, three versions worth.

Celebrations ~ Friday Five

Celebrations are hard-won around here, but today's Friday Five asks about them and . . . why not?

Here's what 3dogmom asks:

It’s the time of year when celebrations abound: graduations (the end of that season), weddings, anniversaries, family reunions, and more. I’ve just officiated the blessing of my sister-in-law’s recent marriage, an event that incorporated a variety of celebrations within the celebration. Fun stuff, all around!

The season notwithstanding, causes to celebrate can be found in our daily/weekly/monthly lives, too. For today’s FF, share with us five things you are celebrating these days!

Here's a much younger version of my husband and me, concluding a backpacking trip on Isle Royale:

He turned 65 in mid-June, so we celebrated with kids then, and will be with friends Sunday night, and perhaps with his extended family in the fall when he  . . . retires!  Forty-plus corporate years are yielding to pottery making and senior track competitions.  Yippee for him!  And three celebrations.

I am quietly celebrating the end of a week of Vacation Bible School tonight, in which I was much more involved than I had anticipated being.  It went really well -- kudos to our Christian Ed Director and amazing volunteers --  but I am long past the time in which I would have bounced right back from mornings spent with many, many preschoolers.  (See photo above ~ maybe then?)  The rewards:  Big hugs from small people for Pastor Robin.

I am also celebrating the fact that it's now been about ten years since I finished my year with the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius.  Last night I wrote a note to Spiritual Director Emeritus, now 86 years old and newly assigned to a new administrative position at Georgetown, to thank him (again). Without his patient guidance ~  no Exercises, no seminary, no survival of the loss of my son, no ministry.  Such a huge part he has played in each! At Georgetown a couple of years ago:

In spite of myself, there are things to celebrate!

To Be Grateful, For This Life

As I look ahead, I see that this day looks to be filled with good things, with all the dimensions of life brimming with meaning for me . . .

A walk along a metropark path with some friends.  It's chilly and gray out there (because we live in Cleveland) and it might rain, but oh! to be out in nature! and with a few friends and acquaintances gathering under the name Cleveland Contemplative Walkers.  We don't even know what that means yet, but we will be outdoors, and we will walk, and we will read a few words from Thich Nhat Hanh.

A memorial service.  That may sound strange to others, but the work of a funeral or memorial service is work that I love.  To seek out and arrange the prayers, the music, the words.  To see the family and friends gathered, each in his or her own world of confusion and sadness, and yet connected by death, some glued fast to one another, and others clinging to the tangential lines cast out from one life.  To offer in words something of a person's life and a promise of hope.  

And then, tonight (I hope) the Cleveland Film Festival with at least some of my own family. I love the Cleveland Film Festival: the energy, the creativity, the artistry, the surprises.  If I had it all to do over again, I think I might be a filmmaker, trying to capture visually all that to which words are inadequate.  And the longer I preach, and the more I read, and the deeper I descend into this life, the more I come to recognize how utterly and extensively inadequate our proud little words are.

Busy Week, Busy Season

This week has been packed beyond reason, and as a consequence we are spending a quiet evening at home instead of heading out to a gathering of friends. I realized a couple of days ago that the extra Lenten services and planning have added the equivalent of a full work day to each week, so I have good reason to feel a bit stressed.  My consistent response to almost every question or suggestion for the past two weeks has been, "Talk to me after Easter."

This one has been a regular week, filled with small meetings and conversations, a stack of telephone calls, classes to teach, people to visit, and services and sermons to plan.  And then there were the extras:

On Monday night, a friend and I presented an evening retreat on Ignatian spirituality for an ecumenical group.  We had a small (fewer than 20) but enthusiastic audience, with several people from various arenas of our lives showing up.  It's been ten years since I made the Spiritual Exercises, and at least a year since I've given them to someone else.  For me, the evening turned into a much-needed reminder of that powerful experience of prayer.

Tuesday night, our church council gathered for what should have been a short monthly meeting but, due to one prickly issue, wasn't. Another item for the "after Easter" list of matters requiring my attention as an interim pastor.

Wednesday we held our final mid-week Lenten service, this one focused on healing. I had little to do with that one ~ it's an annual tradition and one of our members, a nurse by profession, did the preaching.  We anointed and folks lit candles for a gentle, relaxing time of worship.

I'm not sure that I remember much of Thursday. Last night my daughter and I went out to see Hello, My Name Is Doris.  There are two other films I really wanted to see, but I did not have it in me to spend a Friday evening on either heartbreak or serious political matters, so we steered clear of those. 

This morning was devoted to a First Communion class for three lovely ten-year-olds, and then my daughter and I went for a walk together and began to plan a North Carolina backpacking trip for September.  I came home and looked up trail information and checked out backpacking gear, and felt much cheered by the prospect of a week in the woods. 

"After Easter" I am going to spend some concentrated time re-thinking all of these demands on my life.  I love everything that I am called to do, but I don't want to be this busy ever again.