By Rev. Gusti Linnea Newquist
Mark 4:35-40
"Leaning on the Everlasting Arms"
About five years ago, when I was still in seminary, one of my very best friends had a baby. I will call her Elizabeth. Having a baby was harder than Elizabeth thought it would be. The baby cried. A lot. Elizabeth cried. A lot.
When I finally had a chance to visit her over my so-called summer “vacation” I ordered my dear friend straight to bed, took over the childcare, and held her son in my arms. It was time to calm the storm.
Three hours later I was crying! The baby was crying. Elizabeth was crying. I was training to be a pastor, but every prayer I ever knew escaped me (and I will not repeat the words that took their place!). I was completely lost. But singing, now that I still remembered. And for whatever reason those songs I learned in Sunday School came flooding back. The lullabies most of all. And I started singing (in my “those who can’t sing, preach, soprano” . . . or is it alto?) “Peace . . . peace . . . be still . . . peace . . . be still . . . peace . . . be still . . .
I did not care how badly I sang off tune that day. I just sang with all my might to that crying baby. And to the baby’s crying mother. And yes, to my crying self. And it wasn’t immediate. And it took a lot longer than I really thought it should. But finally . . . eventually . . . the wailing ceased. And the hiccups turned to sighs. And the baby became a lump in my arms. And I collapsed . . . exhausted . . . on the couch. And my friend finally got some sleep. And so did the baby.
And so did I.
I am guessing just about everyone here could tell a version of that story—from five years ago or from five minutes ago—about coming to our wits end in the swirling chaos that just won’t quit, not even for a second, and holding on to whatever gift of grace God gives us in a moment. Crying out for peace. Singing out for peace. Literally making peace so by our singing. And in an odd way by our crying. Because somehow in our singing and our crying we are finally able to relax enough to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we are leaning on everlasting arms. And they are the arms of peace. And they will not ever let us go.
[choral interlude, “Riding Through the Storm”]
The thing about the winds and the wave is that they have been with us from the beginning of time. From those very first verses in Genesis, when God was beginning to create the heavens and the earth, and the New Revised Standard Version translation says “a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” And of course the Newquist Interpretive Version from the Hebrew [ve·ru·ach e·lo·him me·ra·che·fet al-pe·nei ham·ma·yim] coming from a woman named “Gusti,” would translate this as the Spirit of God, the breath of God, the wind of God, according to our sacred stories, literally swooping and swirling and maybe even storming over the waters of primordial chaos. From the very beginning.
Which means that the Spirit of God has not just been calming the storm from the beginning of time, but that the Spirit of God has also been in the storm from the beginning of time. And that the Spirit of God may even be using the storm as an uncharted gift of God’s presence and grace and ultimate healing, if it can lead us to know deep in our soul that God is still with us, in good times and in bad, through the swooping and swirling Spirit that forces us to confront our deepest fears, and the peace of Christ within it that passes all understanding, and the everlasting arms of our mothering/fathering/or even best-friend-stepping-in-to-help-out-on-vacation God who will do whatever it takes to calm us in our chaos. Because even God knows what it is to take a break and rest, in the midst of the storm.
Which is, of course, what Jesus is doing on that boat in the first place. With a really long day of preaching and teaching behind him and another long day of healing and casting out demons ahead of him, you could say he is a little tired. And so he is, as we say, “asleep at the wheel” as the storm rages on . . .
And the disciples are terrified, of course, fearing Jesus has abandoned them. But in his defense, may I just point out that Jesus is a carpenter! The disciples are the fishermen! They are the ones who know about boats! What on earth do they expect Jesus to do that they don’t already know how to do themselves? And how often do we cry out to God to save us when we really already do have everything we need to survive already in our possession, as God-given gifts and talents, just waiting for a storm to give us the chance to step up in ways we never knew we could? We know that, here at Madison Square. We do know that . . .
But of course Jesus does still the storm as soon as he wakes up. And chides the disciples for their lack of faith. And then they go on about their healing mission on the other side of the Lake of Galilee. And so, in the end, must we, on the other side of whatever storm has raged—or is still raging . . . around us . . .
But here’s where the real trouble begins. Because if the Gospel of Mark is any indication, the more difficult journey for the disciples comes when the storm ends, and the waters calm, and the clouds fade, and the gentle waves lap at their hull. We start to take the other boat-riders for granted. To jockey for positions of power. To forget the mission that draws us together in the first place. That’s what the disciples do. That’s what we do, if we’re really truly honest.
Jesus asks them to do something different. Jesus asks us to do something different. Yes, we can descend into petty bickering. And miss the moment of grace in search of another crisis. And even go so far as to re-create the storm in an ironic twist that we think will bring us together to “survive” again.
Or we can celebrate all that God has done to lead us through. We can play together and appreciate one another and glorify the God who made it so. We can splash together forever in the cool, calm waters of baptismal grace that form the font of our identity. We can feast with abandon at the table of mercy that offers us such generous sustenance. We can sing boldly—and even badly!—from the word of memory and hope that helps us survive the calm. And we can walk together with one another whenever the moment arises to offer a word of comfort and care, as the people of God who really do already know how to steer this boat.
And we can survive the calm even better than we have survived the storm. Because the peace that passes understanding is with us always. Leading us forever home. Where help will always come. And we will always be held. Leaning on the everlasting arms of a God who is just as tired as we are. And is bidding us all to rest. And be at peace. And be still. I pray it may be so. Amen.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
The Guidance of the Spirit of God
By Rev. Gusti Linnea Newquist
1 Samuel 16:1-13
“I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh . . .” Peter says on Pentecost Sunday . . . “and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy . . . and the ones among you who are young shall see visions . . . and the ones among you who are old shall dream dreams” . . . so that in all things you will seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God . . . in the name of Christ . . . Amen . . .
And so we have arrived. The final chapter of our meditation on the Madison Square mission. A meditation that began with a celebration of Madison Square’s 130th anniversary on Transfiguration Sunday, and a sermon series on the mission statement combined with Focus Groups in the Season of Lent, and has continued since Easter Sunday with a report from your Transition Team on the vision and values and priorities for Madison Square, and with the presbytery affirming that Madison Square is, indeed, ready to begin the search for an installed pastor.
You may recall, if you were paying very close attention in this period of preparation, that I never did officially preach on the final statement of the Madison Square mission: “in all things, to seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God.” And that is because I was saving it for today. The day we elect a Pastor Nominating Committee to do this very thing that ties your entire vision and mission together, which is “to seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God” in calling that new installed pastor who will lead you into the future.
I saved a sermon on the guidance of the Spirit of God for this day because we really must live this part of the Madison Square mission in the next step of the interim process. We really must trust the guidance of the Spirit of God in bringing your installed pastor to you. We really must affirm together that this part of the Madison Square mission is in the end the only thing we can truly hang our hat on in any part of living out our mission as the Pentecost People who form the Christian Church.
The mystery and the promise of our faith is that we really do trust that the Spirit of God that was present in the beginning of Creation, present in the anointing of kings and the utterance of prophets, present in the baptism of Jesus, present in the birth of the church on Pentecost Sunday, present in the promise of our own baptism, present at the table that sustains us with bread and wine in abundance, present through the words of memory and hope that soar through the sacred words of ancient Scripture, is also present in the still, small voice that speaks within every one of us. In our sighs too deep for words to express. In our visions. In our dreams. And in our prophetic actions for justice and peace.
What we have learned and affirmed over and over and over again in this Spirit-led meditation on the Madison Square mission is that the Spirit of God really does call the entire congregation to the ministry of this church. Not just the next installed pastor. Or, I might add, the current interim pastor. We are, every one of us, called by the Spirit of God to the ministry of the gospel through our baptism. Nourished by the Spirit of God in our communion. And commissioned by the Spirit of God in our preaching.
And so I would even dare to say that in a very real sense it should not matter who your next installed pastor is. Because the ministry of Madison Square belongs to you, the ones God has called to worship in this sanctuary and called to service beyond these walls. Your vision is the Spirit’s vision for you. Your mission is the Spirit’s mission for you. Your priorities are the Spirit’s priorities for you. And you are the ones who will bring this vision to life, through the power of the Spirit.
It is precisely because we have been so diligent in affirming your calling as a congregation in seeking the guidance of the Spirit of God in the recent meditation on the Madison Square mission that we are finally ready to elect and commission a small group of people to serve as your Pastor Nominating Committee, in the same manner as the prophet Samuel in our Scripture lesson today, seeking just the right person to bring to you as a candidate for your next installed pastor. To support and encourage and nurture the vision God has given you, receptive always to the ongoing guidance of the Spirit of God.
The good news is we really are ready. It has been a long haul, but we really are ready. The challenging news is . . . well . . . the task of seeking a new installed pastor is just plain challenging. If we have been paying any attention to how the guidance of the Spirit of God works in our lives—and in the lives of our biblical ancestors—well, we just cannot ever predict how the guidance of the Spirit of God will lead. Or how long it will take to discern the guidance of the Spirit of God. Or if we will even like the guidance of the Spirit of God.
Take Samuel, for example. He is the biblical version of a Pastor Nominating Committee in our Scripture lesson for today. And surely he is seeking with due diligence “the guidance of the Spirit of God” in declaring who will lead the people in his own time and place. But if you remember from last Sunday’s lesson, Samuel was never in favor of this whole “king” business to begin with. He only submits to it begrudgingly. And it takes him a while to find exactly the right person.
The guidance of the Spirit of God has at least made it clear to him that the next leader for the people of God will come from the family of Jesse. So Samuel goes to Jesse. And what do they do? They worship God. Did you notice? The search for the new leader begins . . . with worship. Just like it is for us today. It is only after the worship service has concluded that Samuel actually evaluates the candidates.
Jesse brings his children forward. Which one will it be? Surely that first-born son is the one! (they all think) Groomed for greatness from the very beginning. The one who would allow them to call off the search right away and go back to a life of leisure. But “God does not see as mortals see; we look on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart.” The guidance of the Spirit of God is clear. The one who makes the most sense in the eyes of Samuel is simply not the one God has chosen for the job. So Samuel keeps searching. Candidate after candidate parades before him. All of them are great people. All of them are fabulous in their own way. But none of them are anointed by the Spirit of God for the particular purpose of leading the people into the next era.
Samuel becomes quite certain the task is hopeless. “Do you have any more children?” Samuel asks of Jesse. And Jesse hesitates. “Well, there is that little shepherd boy,” he says, dismissing the notion this could possibly be God’s anointed. And of course that little shepherd boy turns out to be exactly the one who is clearly anointed by the Spirit of God for this purpose: King David, himself! The one we remember today as the greatest king of all.
This, too, will be the case for the Pastor Nominating Committee at Madison Square. Once they are elected by the congregation, they will gather regularly to seek the guidance of the Spirit of God in developing a “Church Information Form” to share with prospective candidates. They will bring that form to the session for approval and then they will post that form on-line to what I affectionately call the “Presbyterian Church on-line dating service,” matching the profiles of potential pastors with churches that might be a good fit for them. The great computer in the sky will send resumes to your Pastor Nominating Committee. And pastors themselves will send their resume. And the PNC will seek the guidance of the Spirit of God in reviewing applications and sermon samples and checking references of those applicants.
They will update us periodically on where they are in the search. But under no circumstances will they divulge the confidential information they share with one another in the search. So don’t ask them! Under no circumstances will they share the names of candidates they are considering. So don’t ask them! Under no circumstances will they tell us when and where they have scheduled face-to-face interviews. So don’t ask them! Under no circumstances will they enter this process with the expectation that they know from the beginning whom God has chosen for the position. That’s what Samuel did. And he was wrong. So don’t ask them!
What they will do, what they must do, in all that they do, is seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God. Just as you have told them to do in the Madison Square mission statement. They will feel excitement and enthusiasm at the beginning, just like Samuel did. And they will go through periods of great frustration and disappointment, just like Samuel did. And they will keep on seeking the guidance of the Spirit of God through every part of the search process, just like Samuel did.
And then, in the end, at exactly the right time (and not a moment before), the Spirit of God will make it very clear who the next installed pastor of Madison Square should be, just like God did with David and Samuel. And the Pastor Nominating Committee will present that person to you for your approval at a congregational meeting. And we will most definitely shout yet another alleluia!
There is no way to know, today, when the time will be. We have been advised to expect a year. Perhaps it will take longer. I doubt it will be much less. But rest assured, that day WILL come!
In the meantime we continue to celebrate the outpouring of the Spirit upon all of us for ministry at Madison Square in this Pentecost season. The summer is full of fun for our kids with Vacation Bible School. The pulpit will be filled with incredible guest preachers and children’s moment leaders and a double infant baptism in the middle of July. The Stewardship Committee continues to prepare for a congregation-wide conversation this fall about the treasure God has given to us and our faithful stewardship of it. The Finance Committee continues to assess and improve our accounting procedures one large step at a time. AND we will move forward in August with envisioning new ideas for adult education and member care. And we will do it all with gratitude and delight in the guidance of the Spirit of God . . .
Because God is still “pouring out the Spirit upon all flesh,” . . . “and your sons and your daughters are still prophesying” . . . “and the ones among you who are young are still seeing visions” . . . “and the ones among you who are old are still dreaming dreams” . . . so that in all things we may continue to seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God” . . . in the name of Christ, we pray . . . Amen.
1 Samuel 16:1-13
“I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh . . .” Peter says on Pentecost Sunday . . . “and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy . . . and the ones among you who are young shall see visions . . . and the ones among you who are old shall dream dreams” . . . so that in all things you will seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God . . . in the name of Christ . . . Amen . . .
And so we have arrived. The final chapter of our meditation on the Madison Square mission. A meditation that began with a celebration of Madison Square’s 130th anniversary on Transfiguration Sunday, and a sermon series on the mission statement combined with Focus Groups in the Season of Lent, and has continued since Easter Sunday with a report from your Transition Team on the vision and values and priorities for Madison Square, and with the presbytery affirming that Madison Square is, indeed, ready to begin the search for an installed pastor.
You may recall, if you were paying very close attention in this period of preparation, that I never did officially preach on the final statement of the Madison Square mission: “in all things, to seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God.” And that is because I was saving it for today. The day we elect a Pastor Nominating Committee to do this very thing that ties your entire vision and mission together, which is “to seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God” in calling that new installed pastor who will lead you into the future.
I saved a sermon on the guidance of the Spirit of God for this day because we really must live this part of the Madison Square mission in the next step of the interim process. We really must trust the guidance of the Spirit of God in bringing your installed pastor to you. We really must affirm together that this part of the Madison Square mission is in the end the only thing we can truly hang our hat on in any part of living out our mission as the Pentecost People who form the Christian Church.
The mystery and the promise of our faith is that we really do trust that the Spirit of God that was present in the beginning of Creation, present in the anointing of kings and the utterance of prophets, present in the baptism of Jesus, present in the birth of the church on Pentecost Sunday, present in the promise of our own baptism, present at the table that sustains us with bread and wine in abundance, present through the words of memory and hope that soar through the sacred words of ancient Scripture, is also present in the still, small voice that speaks within every one of us. In our sighs too deep for words to express. In our visions. In our dreams. And in our prophetic actions for justice and peace.
What we have learned and affirmed over and over and over again in this Spirit-led meditation on the Madison Square mission is that the Spirit of God really does call the entire congregation to the ministry of this church. Not just the next installed pastor. Or, I might add, the current interim pastor. We are, every one of us, called by the Spirit of God to the ministry of the gospel through our baptism. Nourished by the Spirit of God in our communion. And commissioned by the Spirit of God in our preaching.
And so I would even dare to say that in a very real sense it should not matter who your next installed pastor is. Because the ministry of Madison Square belongs to you, the ones God has called to worship in this sanctuary and called to service beyond these walls. Your vision is the Spirit’s vision for you. Your mission is the Spirit’s mission for you. Your priorities are the Spirit’s priorities for you. And you are the ones who will bring this vision to life, through the power of the Spirit.
It is precisely because we have been so diligent in affirming your calling as a congregation in seeking the guidance of the Spirit of God in the recent meditation on the Madison Square mission that we are finally ready to elect and commission a small group of people to serve as your Pastor Nominating Committee, in the same manner as the prophet Samuel in our Scripture lesson today, seeking just the right person to bring to you as a candidate for your next installed pastor. To support and encourage and nurture the vision God has given you, receptive always to the ongoing guidance of the Spirit of God.
The good news is we really are ready. It has been a long haul, but we really are ready. The challenging news is . . . well . . . the task of seeking a new installed pastor is just plain challenging. If we have been paying any attention to how the guidance of the Spirit of God works in our lives—and in the lives of our biblical ancestors—well, we just cannot ever predict how the guidance of the Spirit of God will lead. Or how long it will take to discern the guidance of the Spirit of God. Or if we will even like the guidance of the Spirit of God.
Take Samuel, for example. He is the biblical version of a Pastor Nominating Committee in our Scripture lesson for today. And surely he is seeking with due diligence “the guidance of the Spirit of God” in declaring who will lead the people in his own time and place. But if you remember from last Sunday’s lesson, Samuel was never in favor of this whole “king” business to begin with. He only submits to it begrudgingly. And it takes him a while to find exactly the right person.
The guidance of the Spirit of God has at least made it clear to him that the next leader for the people of God will come from the family of Jesse. So Samuel goes to Jesse. And what do they do? They worship God. Did you notice? The search for the new leader begins . . . with worship. Just like it is for us today. It is only after the worship service has concluded that Samuel actually evaluates the candidates.
Jesse brings his children forward. Which one will it be? Surely that first-born son is the one! (they all think) Groomed for greatness from the very beginning. The one who would allow them to call off the search right away and go back to a life of leisure. But “God does not see as mortals see; we look on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart.” The guidance of the Spirit of God is clear. The one who makes the most sense in the eyes of Samuel is simply not the one God has chosen for the job. So Samuel keeps searching. Candidate after candidate parades before him. All of them are great people. All of them are fabulous in their own way. But none of them are anointed by the Spirit of God for the particular purpose of leading the people into the next era.
Samuel becomes quite certain the task is hopeless. “Do you have any more children?” Samuel asks of Jesse. And Jesse hesitates. “Well, there is that little shepherd boy,” he says, dismissing the notion this could possibly be God’s anointed. And of course that little shepherd boy turns out to be exactly the one who is clearly anointed by the Spirit of God for this purpose: King David, himself! The one we remember today as the greatest king of all.
This, too, will be the case for the Pastor Nominating Committee at Madison Square. Once they are elected by the congregation, they will gather regularly to seek the guidance of the Spirit of God in developing a “Church Information Form” to share with prospective candidates. They will bring that form to the session for approval and then they will post that form on-line to what I affectionately call the “Presbyterian Church on-line dating service,” matching the profiles of potential pastors with churches that might be a good fit for them. The great computer in the sky will send resumes to your Pastor Nominating Committee. And pastors themselves will send their resume. And the PNC will seek the guidance of the Spirit of God in reviewing applications and sermon samples and checking references of those applicants.
They will update us periodically on where they are in the search. But under no circumstances will they divulge the confidential information they share with one another in the search. So don’t ask them! Under no circumstances will they share the names of candidates they are considering. So don’t ask them! Under no circumstances will they tell us when and where they have scheduled face-to-face interviews. So don’t ask them! Under no circumstances will they enter this process with the expectation that they know from the beginning whom God has chosen for the position. That’s what Samuel did. And he was wrong. So don’t ask them!
What they will do, what they must do, in all that they do, is seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God. Just as you have told them to do in the Madison Square mission statement. They will feel excitement and enthusiasm at the beginning, just like Samuel did. And they will go through periods of great frustration and disappointment, just like Samuel did. And they will keep on seeking the guidance of the Spirit of God through every part of the search process, just like Samuel did.
And then, in the end, at exactly the right time (and not a moment before), the Spirit of God will make it very clear who the next installed pastor of Madison Square should be, just like God did with David and Samuel. And the Pastor Nominating Committee will present that person to you for your approval at a congregational meeting. And we will most definitely shout yet another alleluia!
There is no way to know, today, when the time will be. We have been advised to expect a year. Perhaps it will take longer. I doubt it will be much less. But rest assured, that day WILL come!
In the meantime we continue to celebrate the outpouring of the Spirit upon all of us for ministry at Madison Square in this Pentecost season. The summer is full of fun for our kids with Vacation Bible School. The pulpit will be filled with incredible guest preachers and children’s moment leaders and a double infant baptism in the middle of July. The Stewardship Committee continues to prepare for a congregation-wide conversation this fall about the treasure God has given to us and our faithful stewardship of it. The Finance Committee continues to assess and improve our accounting procedures one large step at a time. AND we will move forward in August with envisioning new ideas for adult education and member care. And we will do it all with gratitude and delight in the guidance of the Spirit of God . . .
Because God is still “pouring out the Spirit upon all flesh,” . . . “and your sons and your daughters are still prophesying” . . . “and the ones among you who are young are still seeing visions” . . . “and the ones among you who are old are still dreaming dreams” . . . so that in all things we may continue to seek and be receptive to the guidance of the Spirit of God” . . . in the name of Christ, we pray . . . Amen.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
On Rummage Sales and the Reality of God
By Rev. Gusti Linnea Newquist
1 Samuel 7:15-8:22, 10:17-25
Poor Samuel. He has tried so hard.
By the time we meet him in our Scripture lesson this morning, he has given every part of his life to leading the people of God in ancient Israel. He has spoken prophetically of God’s justice and love. He has led priestly rituals as a steward of God’s mysteries. He has settled disputes, led the people into battle, soothed their wounds, and kept the peace. They cannot even begin to imagine their lives without him.
But to everything there is a season, and by the time we meet Samuel in our Scripture lesson this morning, Samuel’s season is coming to an end. And he knows it. And so do the people.
So Samuel sets up a transition team. Joel and Abijah, Samuel’s two strapping sons, have more than enough wealth and training and God-given talent to take on the task. Samuel sends them off to learn the trade throughout the farthest reaches of the federation, expecting them to return to Ramah—the center of the federation in the time of Samuel’s judgeship—ready to lead upon his death.
It does not go according to plan.
While Samuel shows every indication that he has found his power directly from God’s anointing of his ministry, Joel and Abijah draw their power more from the job of judging, itself. They plunder the villages they have been appointed to serve. They take bribes for their economic influence. They twist justice at every turn in order advance their own agendas.
Or at least that is what history records. Truth be told, we never do hear their side of the story.
The bottom line is that something must be done. The question is . . . what?
It helps to understand what is going on in this Scripture if we take a step back from this tale of a transition gone south and focus on the even bigger transition going on all around the people of ancient Israel. Because at the time of our Scripture lesson, the entire political and social and economic structure of the land we still to this day call “holy” is also changing dramatically. The other, non-Israelite, tribal federations that live in the land with them have begun to centralize their governments and specialize their occupations and consolidate their militaries and emerge as nation-states. Every one of them ruled by a king.
Sociologists who study religion have begun to call the kind of sweeping societal change that is taking place in our Scripture lesson today something like a great big “rummage sale,” when people of faith re-evaluate our expected norms and practices in light of dramatic societal shifts. It happens every 500 years or so. The Protestant Reformation was an example. The emergence of Christianity in the first century as a form of post-temple Judaism was an example. And this transition from the period of judges to the period of kings was an example.
So Samuel’s pending retirement, in the context of the Really Big Rummage Sale that is swirling around their society, gives the ancient Israelites a chance to toss out what they don’t need any more and to make way for the new. Which is what the people rightly call for, even though Samuel gives them a whole lot of grief for it. And although though the first King—Saul—the one who is hidden in the pile of baggage—doesn’t work out so well, the next King—David—and the King after that—Solomon—are truly fabulous. They lead the glory days of ancient Israel. In hindsight, we can see that the people who are calling for a king do move the tradition forward. And they are to be commended for it.
The real point of the lesson of First Samuel is not about whether or not it is a good idea to transition to a king. The real point of the lesson is about whether or not we are trusting the God who has anointed the king! And every other leader who came before the king! And every other leader who will come after the king! Because the community of faith really is, always and forever, about the kingdom of God, regardless of whom God has anointed as their leader.
And it is the God who is our king, who will always and forever lead every one of us out of whatever bondage we are in, through whatever transition we are in, into whatever new life we are about to become. That is what Samuel is so concerned the people will forget if—and when—they finally get their all-too-human king.
Woe unto us if we forget it, too, here at Madison Square, as we turn toward the task of nominating and electing a Pastor Nominating Committee that will function as your “Samuel” in seeking a new installed pastor. Because as thorough as we have been in consulting the congregation in this season of self-assessment, this transition is not, in the end, about the individual pastor who will lead you for the next season. It is about the God who will guide you through every season.
And while it may have been an immediate pastoral transition that has been occupying much of our imagination in this interim period, we, like those ancient Israelites clamoring for a king in the face of Samuel’s pending retirement, do well to remember that we are caught up in a much larger transition as American Protestant Christians in the twenty-first century. Another of what the sociologists of religion call a “great rummage sale” of re-evaluating basic norms and practices in light of our own great dramatic societal shifts. And, boy, are we shifting!
While the national trends are less true in south Texas than they are in other parts of the country, the shifting reality for American Protestant Christianity is that we really are no longer a clearly culturally Christian society. And the so-called “mainline Protestant” churches are no longer the center of the society we are becoming instead. Even just in my lifetime—and I am of the “Generation X”—we have become more secular, more pluralistic, and more diverse. Changes which many of us actually might like. We are also much more consumed with a culture of individual choice, from the marketplace of consumer goods to the marketplace of ideas to the marketplace of religious practice.
We can lament the effects of these trends on our tradition, of course. And perhaps we do. We are—at least as a Presbyterian denomination—just as conflicted about “what went wrong” as the crowds and Samuel were in our biblical text for today. But the bottom line is that this shift is upon us, and it is not going away, and our challenge is to adapt our way of ministry in a new way for a new day, just like they did in ancient Israel. We just have to be clear about the God we are serving in the midst of this shifting.
Where the ancient Israelites were consolidating and expanding in response to their cultural context, we are decentralizing and diversifying and dreaming whole new ways of being church. Where the ancient Israelites were compiling their traditions into a grand narrative, we are opening up a multiplicity of new ways to tell “the old, old story” of Jesus and his love. Where the ancient Israelites were building a big temple for the common worship of God, we are learning to take the church to the people beyond the building. And there are some exciting new ways of “being church” that Christians across the country are exploring these days.
A pastor from my Interim Ministry training program is starting a church on the beach in California. Can you imagine taking the church to the people, right there along the shore of this new Lake Galilee, sharing communion and celebrating the Spirit of creation. Another pastor friend of mine in Louisville has founded an Eco-Justice worship collective, where they gather to reclaim our God-given gift of true stewardship for this creation in ecological crisis. The San Antonio version of ministry beyond borders is taking place at The Foundry coffee shop, where people young and old gather for coffee and community and the gift of God’s grace. I understand they are going out of business fairly soon, which is really too bad . . . or perhaps we at Madison Square might find a way to fill the gap?
The bottom line is that what we are learning in this great rummage sale that is the emerging 21st century version of American Protestant Christianity is that the church, itself, is a “mission field.” That we, ourselves, are rediscovering the meaning of the very “transformation” we preach. And that being on the margins of an increasingly secular society may in fact be just the kind of jolt we need to boldly proclaim the good news of God for all who are on the margins of society.
Which is, of course, exactly what the self-assessment of Madison Square has said you want to do. So let’s do it! The two things we have agreed to work on together in August when I come back from vacation are adult education and member care. One way to do that could be to say, “Well, this is what we used to do, and we got away from it, so let’s get back to it again. Or we could say this is a whole new season for God’s grace to be proclaimed, and we have bold new ideas to explore together. What new gatherings of community might God be forming in us and through us as we reach out even more beyond this sacred sanctuary? What new risks are we called to take as we let go of ways of being church that had their place and time but need to make space for something else? And what anxiety do we need to let go, in order to trust that the God who has always led us out of whatever bondage we find ourselves in is doing so again . . . and again . . . and again . . . and even with us?
Poor Samuel did not really get it wrong when the people clamored for a king. He just wanted their true king to be the God they worshiped and served. And we won’t go wrong if we remember the same. No matter what transition we are in.
I pray it may be so. Amen.
1 Samuel 7:15-8:22, 10:17-25
Poor Samuel. He has tried so hard.
By the time we meet him in our Scripture lesson this morning, he has given every part of his life to leading the people of God in ancient Israel. He has spoken prophetically of God’s justice and love. He has led priestly rituals as a steward of God’s mysteries. He has settled disputes, led the people into battle, soothed their wounds, and kept the peace. They cannot even begin to imagine their lives without him.
But to everything there is a season, and by the time we meet Samuel in our Scripture lesson this morning, Samuel’s season is coming to an end. And he knows it. And so do the people.
So Samuel sets up a transition team. Joel and Abijah, Samuel’s two strapping sons, have more than enough wealth and training and God-given talent to take on the task. Samuel sends them off to learn the trade throughout the farthest reaches of the federation, expecting them to return to Ramah—the center of the federation in the time of Samuel’s judgeship—ready to lead upon his death.
It does not go according to plan.
While Samuel shows every indication that he has found his power directly from God’s anointing of his ministry, Joel and Abijah draw their power more from the job of judging, itself. They plunder the villages they have been appointed to serve. They take bribes for their economic influence. They twist justice at every turn in order advance their own agendas.
Or at least that is what history records. Truth be told, we never do hear their side of the story.
The bottom line is that something must be done. The question is . . . what?
It helps to understand what is going on in this Scripture if we take a step back from this tale of a transition gone south and focus on the even bigger transition going on all around the people of ancient Israel. Because at the time of our Scripture lesson, the entire political and social and economic structure of the land we still to this day call “holy” is also changing dramatically. The other, non-Israelite, tribal federations that live in the land with them have begun to centralize their governments and specialize their occupations and consolidate their militaries and emerge as nation-states. Every one of them ruled by a king.
Sociologists who study religion have begun to call the kind of sweeping societal change that is taking place in our Scripture lesson today something like a great big “rummage sale,” when people of faith re-evaluate our expected norms and practices in light of dramatic societal shifts. It happens every 500 years or so. The Protestant Reformation was an example. The emergence of Christianity in the first century as a form of post-temple Judaism was an example. And this transition from the period of judges to the period of kings was an example.
So Samuel’s pending retirement, in the context of the Really Big Rummage Sale that is swirling around their society, gives the ancient Israelites a chance to toss out what they don’t need any more and to make way for the new. Which is what the people rightly call for, even though Samuel gives them a whole lot of grief for it. And although though the first King—Saul—the one who is hidden in the pile of baggage—doesn’t work out so well, the next King—David—and the King after that—Solomon—are truly fabulous. They lead the glory days of ancient Israel. In hindsight, we can see that the people who are calling for a king do move the tradition forward. And they are to be commended for it.
The real point of the lesson of First Samuel is not about whether or not it is a good idea to transition to a king. The real point of the lesson is about whether or not we are trusting the God who has anointed the king! And every other leader who came before the king! And every other leader who will come after the king! Because the community of faith really is, always and forever, about the kingdom of God, regardless of whom God has anointed as their leader.
And it is the God who is our king, who will always and forever lead every one of us out of whatever bondage we are in, through whatever transition we are in, into whatever new life we are about to become. That is what Samuel is so concerned the people will forget if—and when—they finally get their all-too-human king.
Woe unto us if we forget it, too, here at Madison Square, as we turn toward the task of nominating and electing a Pastor Nominating Committee that will function as your “Samuel” in seeking a new installed pastor. Because as thorough as we have been in consulting the congregation in this season of self-assessment, this transition is not, in the end, about the individual pastor who will lead you for the next season. It is about the God who will guide you through every season.
And while it may have been an immediate pastoral transition that has been occupying much of our imagination in this interim period, we, like those ancient Israelites clamoring for a king in the face of Samuel’s pending retirement, do well to remember that we are caught up in a much larger transition as American Protestant Christians in the twenty-first century. Another of what the sociologists of religion call a “great rummage sale” of re-evaluating basic norms and practices in light of our own great dramatic societal shifts. And, boy, are we shifting!
While the national trends are less true in south Texas than they are in other parts of the country, the shifting reality for American Protestant Christianity is that we really are no longer a clearly culturally Christian society. And the so-called “mainline Protestant” churches are no longer the center of the society we are becoming instead. Even just in my lifetime—and I am of the “Generation X”—we have become more secular, more pluralistic, and more diverse. Changes which many of us actually might like. We are also much more consumed with a culture of individual choice, from the marketplace of consumer goods to the marketplace of ideas to the marketplace of religious practice.
We can lament the effects of these trends on our tradition, of course. And perhaps we do. We are—at least as a Presbyterian denomination—just as conflicted about “what went wrong” as the crowds and Samuel were in our biblical text for today. But the bottom line is that this shift is upon us, and it is not going away, and our challenge is to adapt our way of ministry in a new way for a new day, just like they did in ancient Israel. We just have to be clear about the God we are serving in the midst of this shifting.
Where the ancient Israelites were consolidating and expanding in response to their cultural context, we are decentralizing and diversifying and dreaming whole new ways of being church. Where the ancient Israelites were compiling their traditions into a grand narrative, we are opening up a multiplicity of new ways to tell “the old, old story” of Jesus and his love. Where the ancient Israelites were building a big temple for the common worship of God, we are learning to take the church to the people beyond the building. And there are some exciting new ways of “being church” that Christians across the country are exploring these days.
A pastor from my Interim Ministry training program is starting a church on the beach in California. Can you imagine taking the church to the people, right there along the shore of this new Lake Galilee, sharing communion and celebrating the Spirit of creation. Another pastor friend of mine in Louisville has founded an Eco-Justice worship collective, where they gather to reclaim our God-given gift of true stewardship for this creation in ecological crisis. The San Antonio version of ministry beyond borders is taking place at The Foundry coffee shop, where people young and old gather for coffee and community and the gift of God’s grace. I understand they are going out of business fairly soon, which is really too bad . . . or perhaps we at Madison Square might find a way to fill the gap?
The bottom line is that what we are learning in this great rummage sale that is the emerging 21st century version of American Protestant Christianity is that the church, itself, is a “mission field.” That we, ourselves, are rediscovering the meaning of the very “transformation” we preach. And that being on the margins of an increasingly secular society may in fact be just the kind of jolt we need to boldly proclaim the good news of God for all who are on the margins of society.
Which is, of course, exactly what the self-assessment of Madison Square has said you want to do. So let’s do it! The two things we have agreed to work on together in August when I come back from vacation are adult education and member care. One way to do that could be to say, “Well, this is what we used to do, and we got away from it, so let’s get back to it again. Or we could say this is a whole new season for God’s grace to be proclaimed, and we have bold new ideas to explore together. What new gatherings of community might God be forming in us and through us as we reach out even more beyond this sacred sanctuary? What new risks are we called to take as we let go of ways of being church that had their place and time but need to make space for something else? And what anxiety do we need to let go, in order to trust that the God who has always led us out of whatever bondage we find ourselves in is doing so again . . . and again . . . and again . . . and even with us?
Poor Samuel did not really get it wrong when the people clamored for a king. He just wanted their true king to be the God they worshiped and served. And we won’t go wrong if we remember the same. No matter what transition we are in.
I pray it may be so. Amen.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Love Makes a Trinity
By Rev. Gusti Linnea Newquist
Trinity Sunday
More Light Sunday
Celebrating the One Who Love You Sunday
John 3:1-8
“Love makes a family,” we say in our efforts to describe the great diversity of relationship configurations in which modern American society provides care and support and concern for one another. Including within the church.
“Love makes a family,” we say here at Madison Square, because we have experienced in our own congregation so many of the different kinds of ways that families may be faithfully constructed. To the point that even our efforts to compile a comprehensive list of these many configurations inevitably overlooks beloved members of our community. Which is why the final report of the Madison Square Vision and Values and Priorities statement adopted by your session two weeks ago simply states that “children from all types of families mingle naturally in worship for all ages and in our age-appropriate activities in Children’s Church.”
Which is emphatically true.
Which is why we are observing “The One Who Loves You” Day in this very moment, halfway between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.
I learned of this observance when I was speaking with your Interim Pastor Search Committee about what to expect upon arriving at Madison Square. “Celebrate the One Who Loves You Day”—or “Celebrate the Ones Who Love You Day”—came about, I was told, after a member of the Madison Square Worship Committee volunteered with the children’s church several years ago. It happened to be Mother’s Day. This church volunteer thought she would do a marvelous thing by inviting the children to celebrate their mothers on that day, only to end up with one of the children weeping in her arms because that child was parented by two fathers and wanted to know why they could not be included in the celebration.
Right then and there the reality of modern families hit home for this faithful volunteer among our children. And when she took a second look around the room, she saw love making all kinds of families at Madison Square. Some children were parented by two mothers. Some children were parented by a mother and a father. Some children were parented by grandparents. Some children were parented by foster parents. Some children were parented in ways she did not know at the time.
And in that moment of simply paying attention to the parenting love of God in the lives of the children of the church, the Spirit of God transformed the family values of this faithful volunteer. And led her to conclude that if love also makes a church family, then Madison Square must update its traditions and celebrate everyone who extends the parenting love of our parenting God with the ones who need that parenting love the most.
And so we have.
On most days the ones who celebrate the parenting love of God in this updated tradition at Madison Square will likely be our children. But if we’re honest, on some days it might just be any one of the rest of us. The so-called “adults” in the room. Because don’t we all need the parenting love of God in our lives? Perhaps even more when we’re supposedly “all grown up”? Don’t we all need to celebrate the one who loves us—or the ones who love us—with the parenting love of God?
I know I do.
It is, after all, the parenting love of our parenting God that led a very adult Jesus to call God his “Abba,” or his “Father.” Or, to translate the Aramaic more accurately, his “Daddy.” Which was absolutely an update of the traditions of his time. Because the little boy Jesus knew in his bones what it was to rely on the parental love of God through his “non-traditional family” of an adoptive father and a scandalized mother. And the grown-up Jesus knew he needed to extend that parenting love of God to his own spiritual “band of brothers” (and, I would argue, more than few sisters) who would one day plant the seeds of the church family we have become two thousand years later. So he changed the way we understood God. And he changed the way we understood how to relate with God and with one another. And a primary way of expressing this change is through the language of the Trinity.
The God whose name was too holy to be pronounced became known as in the most intimate of familial terms: Father; Son; Holy Spirit, in the church’s classic Trinitarian formula. Or, as the 5th century theologian St. Augustine would put it: as Lover; Beloved; and the Love that binds them together.
And wow! What a difference that intimate, familial, ever-present divine love has made since we updated our traditions to reflect its ongoing revelation! And what a difference it can make when we continue to update our traditions to reflect its revelation today!
Because if the adult Jesus is, for all time, “God, the Beloved Son,” as we have come to know him in the church’s classic Trinitarian formula; and if the Holy Spirit is, for all time, the love that binds the Loving Father and the Beloved Son together, as the classically conservative fifth century theologian St. Augustine has taught us; then it is not at all beyond the scope of our faith tradition to say today that love makes a divine family, as well. That “love makes a Trinity,” just as much as love makes a human family or a church family.
Because it is not at all beyond the broadly accepted scope of our faith tradition to understand the Holy Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit as Lover, Beloved, and the Love that binds them together, we can say with absolute assurance that the Christian view of God is that God’s very being is what we might today call a “non-traditional family.” Bound together by the grace of a mutually affirming and life-giving love for all time.
Because love isn’t what a solitary, self-sufficient God does, in Christian experience. Love is who God is! Bound up in a mutually affirming and ultimately life-giving family of grace that invites us to be “born again” into this very divinely human family. In God. And of God. In love. In all of our many configurations. Forever and ever. Amen!
And it is not at all beyond the scope of our faith tradition to say that when Jesus asks us to be “born again,” of water and Spirit, what he is asking of us is to let the Spirit of divine and steadfast love—swirling in a wind that will always blow wherever it chooses—transform our far too narrow knee-jerk reactions of what it means to be the family of God, so that we may participate in God’s triune vision for a divine home that binds our human family together in ways we can only begin to imagine.
Which is what Jesus was asking of Nicodemus in our Gospel lesson today.
The righteous, respected Pharisee, certified member of the religious establishment, Nicodemus knew Jesus was up to something divinely inspired, even when his peers put him down. So under cover of darkness, he approaches Jesus, in our text, to talk about the teaching of the kingdom of God. With the intention of bringing the clearly divinely led Jesus into the respected tradition of the elders, to which Nicodemus belongs.
But Jesus offers the exact opposite.
In the name of the God who is Lover, and Beloved, and the Love that binds them together, you can almost hear Jesus saying, I want to bring you, Nicodemus, and you, religious establishment into the updated tradition of the family of God. I want you to be “born again,” Jesus is saying to Nicodemus, as a participant in God’s holy family. And I want you to invite others to do the same.
Because what we know for sure in the story of Jesus is that spiritual rebirth really is possible. And in fact, it is necessary, for all who would keep up with the divine wind that “blows where it chooses.” And what we know for sure in the story of Jesus is that it is often the most “religious” people who need that spiritual rebirth.
The good news, for Jesus and for us, is that Nicodemus does exactly what Jesus asks him to do. He lets the Spirit of love re-make his participation in God’s holy family. Because although Nicodemus is only willing to approach Jesus in today’s lectionary text from the Gospel of John under cover of darkness, in a “secret meeting,” as a “closeted” supporter of Jesus, you might say, Nicodemus later comes out full force as a defender of Jesus among his fellow Pharisees. And he brings a mixture of myrrh and aloes to anoint the broken body of Christ after the crucifixion. And he aligns himself for all time with the kind of care for the Beloved Son of a Loving Father God that any model brother would perform when confronted with the Spirit-born grace of God’s steadfast love right before his eyes.
And the same thing can happen among the religious establishment of our day, as well.
Because the good news for us, on this Trinity More Light Sunday Celebrating the One Who Loves Us, is that the Spirit-born grace of God’s steadfast love continues to birth us over and over again as God’s beloved family. Especially as we come to the table of our parenting God in our common communion. Where there is always room for one more to “come home” and learn all over again what it is to love the one human family that we most assuredly are. Created by the God who will not ever let us go.
I pray it may be so. Amen.
Trinity Sunday
More Light Sunday
Celebrating the One Who Love You Sunday
John 3:1-8
“Love makes a family,” we say in our efforts to describe the great diversity of relationship configurations in which modern American society provides care and support and concern for one another. Including within the church.
“Love makes a family,” we say here at Madison Square, because we have experienced in our own congregation so many of the different kinds of ways that families may be faithfully constructed. To the point that even our efforts to compile a comprehensive list of these many configurations inevitably overlooks beloved members of our community. Which is why the final report of the Madison Square Vision and Values and Priorities statement adopted by your session two weeks ago simply states that “children from all types of families mingle naturally in worship for all ages and in our age-appropriate activities in Children’s Church.”
Which is emphatically true.
Which is why we are observing “The One Who Loves You” Day in this very moment, halfway between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.
I learned of this observance when I was speaking with your Interim Pastor Search Committee about what to expect upon arriving at Madison Square. “Celebrate the One Who Loves You Day”—or “Celebrate the Ones Who Love You Day”—came about, I was told, after a member of the Madison Square Worship Committee volunteered with the children’s church several years ago. It happened to be Mother’s Day. This church volunteer thought she would do a marvelous thing by inviting the children to celebrate their mothers on that day, only to end up with one of the children weeping in her arms because that child was parented by two fathers and wanted to know why they could not be included in the celebration.
Right then and there the reality of modern families hit home for this faithful volunteer among our children. And when she took a second look around the room, she saw love making all kinds of families at Madison Square. Some children were parented by two mothers. Some children were parented by a mother and a father. Some children were parented by grandparents. Some children were parented by foster parents. Some children were parented in ways she did not know at the time.
And in that moment of simply paying attention to the parenting love of God in the lives of the children of the church, the Spirit of God transformed the family values of this faithful volunteer. And led her to conclude that if love also makes a church family, then Madison Square must update its traditions and celebrate everyone who extends the parenting love of our parenting God with the ones who need that parenting love the most.
And so we have.
On most days the ones who celebrate the parenting love of God in this updated tradition at Madison Square will likely be our children. But if we’re honest, on some days it might just be any one of the rest of us. The so-called “adults” in the room. Because don’t we all need the parenting love of God in our lives? Perhaps even more when we’re supposedly “all grown up”? Don’t we all need to celebrate the one who loves us—or the ones who love us—with the parenting love of God?
I know I do.
It is, after all, the parenting love of our parenting God that led a very adult Jesus to call God his “Abba,” or his “Father.” Or, to translate the Aramaic more accurately, his “Daddy.” Which was absolutely an update of the traditions of his time. Because the little boy Jesus knew in his bones what it was to rely on the parental love of God through his “non-traditional family” of an adoptive father and a scandalized mother. And the grown-up Jesus knew he needed to extend that parenting love of God to his own spiritual “band of brothers” (and, I would argue, more than few sisters) who would one day plant the seeds of the church family we have become two thousand years later. So he changed the way we understood God. And he changed the way we understood how to relate with God and with one another. And a primary way of expressing this change is through the language of the Trinity.
The God whose name was too holy to be pronounced became known as in the most intimate of familial terms: Father; Son; Holy Spirit, in the church’s classic Trinitarian formula. Or, as the 5th century theologian St. Augustine would put it: as Lover; Beloved; and the Love that binds them together.
And wow! What a difference that intimate, familial, ever-present divine love has made since we updated our traditions to reflect its ongoing revelation! And what a difference it can make when we continue to update our traditions to reflect its revelation today!
Because if the adult Jesus is, for all time, “God, the Beloved Son,” as we have come to know him in the church’s classic Trinitarian formula; and if the Holy Spirit is, for all time, the love that binds the Loving Father and the Beloved Son together, as the classically conservative fifth century theologian St. Augustine has taught us; then it is not at all beyond the scope of our faith tradition to say today that love makes a divine family, as well. That “love makes a Trinity,” just as much as love makes a human family or a church family.
Because it is not at all beyond the broadly accepted scope of our faith tradition to understand the Holy Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit as Lover, Beloved, and the Love that binds them together, we can say with absolute assurance that the Christian view of God is that God’s very being is what we might today call a “non-traditional family.” Bound together by the grace of a mutually affirming and life-giving love for all time.
Because love isn’t what a solitary, self-sufficient God does, in Christian experience. Love is who God is! Bound up in a mutually affirming and ultimately life-giving family of grace that invites us to be “born again” into this very divinely human family. In God. And of God. In love. In all of our many configurations. Forever and ever. Amen!
And it is not at all beyond the scope of our faith tradition to say that when Jesus asks us to be “born again,” of water and Spirit, what he is asking of us is to let the Spirit of divine and steadfast love—swirling in a wind that will always blow wherever it chooses—transform our far too narrow knee-jerk reactions of what it means to be the family of God, so that we may participate in God’s triune vision for a divine home that binds our human family together in ways we can only begin to imagine.
Which is what Jesus was asking of Nicodemus in our Gospel lesson today.
The righteous, respected Pharisee, certified member of the religious establishment, Nicodemus knew Jesus was up to something divinely inspired, even when his peers put him down. So under cover of darkness, he approaches Jesus, in our text, to talk about the teaching of the kingdom of God. With the intention of bringing the clearly divinely led Jesus into the respected tradition of the elders, to which Nicodemus belongs.
But Jesus offers the exact opposite.
In the name of the God who is Lover, and Beloved, and the Love that binds them together, you can almost hear Jesus saying, I want to bring you, Nicodemus, and you, religious establishment into the updated tradition of the family of God. I want you to be “born again,” Jesus is saying to Nicodemus, as a participant in God’s holy family. And I want you to invite others to do the same.
Because what we know for sure in the story of Jesus is that spiritual rebirth really is possible. And in fact, it is necessary, for all who would keep up with the divine wind that “blows where it chooses.” And what we know for sure in the story of Jesus is that it is often the most “religious” people who need that spiritual rebirth.
The good news, for Jesus and for us, is that Nicodemus does exactly what Jesus asks him to do. He lets the Spirit of love re-make his participation in God’s holy family. Because although Nicodemus is only willing to approach Jesus in today’s lectionary text from the Gospel of John under cover of darkness, in a “secret meeting,” as a “closeted” supporter of Jesus, you might say, Nicodemus later comes out full force as a defender of Jesus among his fellow Pharisees. And he brings a mixture of myrrh and aloes to anoint the broken body of Christ after the crucifixion. And he aligns himself for all time with the kind of care for the Beloved Son of a Loving Father God that any model brother would perform when confronted with the Spirit-born grace of God’s steadfast love right before his eyes.
And the same thing can happen among the religious establishment of our day, as well.
Because the good news for us, on this Trinity More Light Sunday Celebrating the One Who Loves Us, is that the Spirit-born grace of God’s steadfast love continues to birth us over and over again as God’s beloved family. Especially as we come to the table of our parenting God in our common communion. Where there is always room for one more to “come home” and learn all over again what it is to love the one human family that we most assuredly are. Created by the God who will not ever let us go.
I pray it may be so. Amen.
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