Zacchaeus and Salvation

Last week, I spent a very hot, humid week with almost 40 children and about 20 youth leaders during a church summer camp.  I led our story station and had the wonderful opportunity to sit around a “campfire” and tell stories of Jesus and his ministry.  Throughout the week, we had bible alert words and phrases, those words or phrases that we use a lot in church, but that the children might be less familiar with, like hospitality, unleavened bread, the Great Commission, and salvation.  These are all big words and the stories helped us to understand them.  One of the words, salvation, is one we tend to avoid in the United Church.  It's one that has been used in a number of ways by different churches and not always in very healthy ways.  One of the stories from the week, helped the children to understand what it might mean to be saved.

The story of Zacchaeus can be found in the gospel of Luke.  Zacchaeus was a small man (traditionally described in a popular children's tune as a 'wee little man') and a tax collector.  Tax collectors tend to get a bad rap in the bible, and not just because they collected taxes.  Most tax collectors during that time were also corrupt.  How I explained it to the children was to imagine that someone owed $200 in taxes.  Zacchaeus would go to that person and tell them they had to pay $400 and then he would keep the extra for himself.  This is how he became rich and this is why the people called him a sinner.

This is also why Zacchaeus, who had climbed a tree to see Jesus coming above a crowd of people, was very surprised that Jesus walked through this crowd of people to the tree he had climbed, told him to come down and then told him that he wanted to come to Zacchaeus’ house.  Why would Jesus, this person that crowds lined up to see, this rabbi who taught about God and healed people, want to spend time with a sinner like him?  Jesus went back to the house of Zacchaeus and this small action changed the life of Zacchaeus forever.  Zacchaeus promised to give half of everything he owned to the poor and he promised to give back to those he cheated four times the amount he had taken from them.  This is the action of a changed man, the action of a man who was saved. 

In simple language, salvation is to save, and we call Jesus our saviour for good reason.  Jesus in our lives, if we are open to it and willing to do what Jesus calls us to do, can totally transform our lives, can cause a sinner to turn from his ways, or cause fishermen to drop their nets and follow him, or inspire people from all around the world to become baptized and follow him.  When we let Jesus into our lives, we don't know what might happen!  One thing you can count on though is the salvation that Jesus offers is always there for each and every one of us, no matter how unworthy we think we are. 

I heard some lyrics the other day from one of my favourite artists right now, a band called Imagine Dragons.  In a song called Next to Me, they sing, “I always let you down, you’re shattered on the ground, but still I find you there, next to me.  And oh, the stupid things I do, I’m far from good, it’s true, but still I find you next to me.  Thank you for taking a chance on me.  I know it ain’t easy, but I hope to be worth it.”

Messages like these hit home, as we make mistakes, as we live with regret, as we struggle to feel loved and worthy.  I can imagine Zacchaeus feeling all of this and the surprise of having Jesus want to come to his house and be his friend, even though he had done so much to hurt others, even though so many others hated him.  Jesus brought this salvation to Zacchaeus.  If we can take that step of welcoming Jesus in, we might also experience some of that salvation.  May it be so.

Blessed by Youth Leaders

This weekend, I spent Friday night and most of Saturday at a leadership development retreat with 19 teenagers between the ages of 11 and 20.  All of them will be camp counsellors at our summer day camps this year at St. Paul's, the church where I minister.  Every year, when young people gather to do this leadership development retreat, I feel grateful for their willingness to serve and inspired by their eagerness to be with the children of our community, supporting them throughout the week, nurturing them in their faith, and learning what it means to be a leader and mentor.

On the first night of our retreat, we explored the gospel story from Matthew where Jesus calls a few fishermen to follow him and tells them they he will teach them how to fish for people.  We talked about the risk that was involved, leaving their work and their families, dropping everything, to follow Jesus.  We also talked about how these disciples would have been around 15-20 years of age, around the same age as the young people in the room.  We talked about what might inspire them to drop everything.  We wondered how our families might feel if we went in a direction that was less certain and a bit scary.  Our summer camp theme is about the ride of a lifetime and adventures with God.  The curriculum puts a fun spin on these adventures, but taking these risks and adventures can also be difficult and scary.

These 19 youth (23, including the four who couldn't make the retreat) will be on a ride of a lifetime this summer as they put their leadership skills to the test.  They will be working long days, some children will test their patience, and others will pull at their heart strings.  Working as a team will help, but will also test their teamwork skills.  I feel very honoured to be working with them this summer and I know that without them, I wouldn't be able to run these camps.  I'm grateful for their time, their passion, their eagerness, and their energy. 

In the first letter of Timothy, we read, "Let no one despise your youth, but set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity." (4:12)  Sometimes young people in our culture get a lot of criticism and judgement from those that are older than them.  People dismiss the wisdom of young people because of their lack of years or don't put their trust in youth because of their lack of experience.  If only they could see what I see every summer.  Let no one despise these youth and their care and compassion of the children our community, their willingness to work more than forty hours for a church during their summer vacation, their ability to mentor one another as they work together, and their own growth in their faith and willingness to share God's love.  May I and the church be forever blessed by their presence.  Amen.

Resurrection People

The world is changing all around us, fast.  Changes used to be a little slower paced, but not anymore.  For some of us, this fast pace is difficult.  Unfortunately, change will happen, at a speed we cannot choose, whether we want it to or not.

The church is a part of all this change, the world church and our individual churches.  For many years, the church has resisted change, seeing some of the changes as contradictory to it’s way of being.  Science and philosophy have asked questions that the church didn’t want answered or have created answers for which the church did not want questions.  Where once, hundred year old traditions were highly valued and respected, now they are highly suspect and sometimes disdained.  People want to know why we do what we do.  People want to ask questions and not feel shame for asking them.  People want honest and genuine people to walk with them in their doubts and struggles with their faith.  People want a community that will accept them for who they are, to encourage them to grow, and to love them no matter what.

Some fear the fast pace of these changes and dig in their heels to steel against the changes.  Some become adamant about the inerrancy and literalism of the bible, while others hold onto pews and traditional styles of worship.  Because of the fear and anxiety around what may come, there is resistance to new ideas that will make changes.  But if we dig in our heels, are we keeping people from the good news of Christ that we were commissioned by Jesus to share?  If we aren’t willing to let the outside world in with all its changes, how do we keep from being irrelevant?

Many people in many churches have been working hard on processes that help their communities of faith discern a way forward.  Who are we?  To what is God calling us?  Does God have a mission for us in this community?  We are starting to bear the fruit of these processes.  Churches are creating new mission statements, they are trying new ideas until they find one that works for them, they are reaching out to young people and these young people are breaking down barriers and bringing in even more new ideas.  

We need to imagine a new future, new possibilities.  It’s not easy.  Sometimes this means taking risks.  We don’t know whether a plan will be successful.  We need to be open to failure.  If fact, I want to throw out these two words: success and failure.  Every new idea has risk and possibility.  They may not bring the results we expect or hope for, but we learn and grow from each endeavour.  It sends a message that we are trying or that we have tried.  It inspires others to risk and imagine. 

So many people are talking about how the “church is dying.”  What does this mean?  Does this mean that Christianity is dying?  Is the death of our church the same as the decline in church attendance and church closures?  Does it mean God’s work for us is coming to an end?   I read a beautiful quote from author, Rachel Held Evans.  “Death is something empires worry about, not something gardeners worry about.  It’s certainly not something resurrection people worry about.”  Christendom, or the empire of Christianity, may be dying, but there are still many Christians out there who are finding new ways to follow their faith, whether it be from within the walls of a church, on the streets feeding the hungry and housing the homeless, on Parliament Hill advocating for the those without a voice, in hospitals and care centres with those who are ill and lonely, or writing or speaking prophetic words in books, blogs, and podcasts.  The work is never done until the kingdom of God is actually created upon this earth, which means we have a ways to go, my friends.  

We are a resurrection people.  We believe that for every beginning, there is an ending and for every ending, there is a beginning.  We believe that death is not the end.  If we, as a church, are dying, I can’t wait to see what resurrection looks like.  

My Home and Native Land

When I hear what is happening in the states, I get so very, very sad.  As an American living in Canada, I watch, with disappointment and heartache, stories with a lack of judgment by the current president, stifling of freedoms by the NFL, young people being shot in schools, and a lack of respect for the life of immigrants and refugees.  There seems to be a new story every day, a new story that makes me feel ashamed of being a white American, and more and more reason to profess Canada as my home and native land.

I moved to Canada 21 years ago.  In a few years, I will have lived more years here than in the states.  Canada is not the perfect country.  It has its history of injustices and, white supremacy exists here too.  It's just more under the surface, not as blatant as it is in the states, which can make it more difficult to fight against.  Universal health care makes a big difference. We have fewer stories of people losing everything to fight for their health.  We have fewer people dying of preventable diseases.  Our gun control also helps keep the death count down, especially those of students who should be safe when they leave home for school. 

I love Canada and my life here.  I don't ever regret moving here, but whenever I cross the border to visit family, it does feel like going home.  Hanging out with other Americans, touring different states, and immersing myself occasionally in the American context, makes me realize how different the two countries are, although at first glance they seem to be very similar.  Sometimes it's as clear as different music or television programming, or the histories of the two countries.  Sometimes it's more subtle, for example, the extreme politeness of Canadians and the overuse of the word "sorry," and the extreme pride of Americans that brings them together but can also keep others out. 

I am often asked why I'm not a Canadian citizen yet.  I usually answer that it's not an easy process, it costs money, and that my only restriction as a permanent resident is voting.  I have also heard pros and cons of having a dual citizenship.  Mostly though, it's because of those moments when I'm with a group of Canadians and feel like an outsider or when I'm with a group of Americans and feel a sense of belonging.  I was born and raised in the U.S. of A., and, as much as I struggle to see the headlines lately, it's my home.  I still have hope in the people living there, that they will continue the struggle for human rights and justice for all, and, I do mean all, no matter the color or race or religion, no matter their gender identity or sexual preference, no matter where they were born, whether they've been to prison, their social or economic status, their age, their physical or mental abilities, or, which can sometimes be the most difficult, no matter their politics.

I hold the people of America in prayer as they live with this strong political divide, as they abuse one another, as they silence one another and refuse to listen to each other.  I pray that they wake up to the toll this is taking on the country.  I pray for the many other countries who are also struggling with these same issues, in different ways, including Canada.  May the Spirit permeate our hearts and minds and bring us wisdom and compassion, strength and courage, as we continue the historic and very human struggle for justice.  Amen.

Spirit of Adventure

I recently purchased a book called, "Canoing the Mountains: Christian Leadership in Uncharted

Territory," by Tod Bolsinger.  In the book, the Lewis and Clark expedition was used as an analogy for the church.  For those unfamiliar, Lewis and Clark were two explorers commissioned to find a waterway through the western United States in 1804.  People were convinced that this waterway existed, and the French, English, Spanish, and the Americans fought to be the first ones to find it.  Imagine their surprise when they reached the Rocky Mountains. 

Up to that point, Lewis and Clark had used canoes to travel.  They assumed that canoes would be what was needed to get from the Atlantic to the Pacific ocean, but when they reached the Rockies, they had to leave the canoes behind and find another way to travel through to the Pacific.  Bolsinger imagines the church is the same position.  We can't go forward with the same tools.  What's ahead looks very different from where we've come.  We need our imaginations to help us determine how we go forward.

Bolsinger also talked about a spirit of adventure.  Lewis and Clark could have given up.  They could have deemed the mission a failure and gone home.  Being explorers though, they continued on and were the first Americans to cross the Rockies.

Where is this spirit of adventure in the church?  I think many are feeling a sense of failure because of a loss of numbers and resources in the church.  Some are ready to throw in the towel.  Some are angry and bitter and placing undeserved blame. 

When Jesus left his disciples, they also had to find a new way forward.  Jesus had broken new ground and brought to them a new way of seeing.  On Pentecost Sunday (the seventh Sunday after Easter), we remember the Holy Spirit rushing into their midst and filling them with power.  It's an iconic moment in the church and is celebrated as the birth of the church.  It's a time when 12 disciples, who had lost their leader, decided to keep going forward, sharing the good news of Jesus Christ and continuing his ministry of teaching, healing, and non-violent resistance.  The Holy Spirit brought them a "spirit" of adventure that inspired them to go out into the world.

Each of us can be filled with the Holy Spirit and take this spirit of adventure into the world in different ways.  Some of us will become ministers.  Some will become social workers or health professionals.  Some will become teachers or go into politics.  We all, through our professions or outside of our work, share our spirit through the time we offer, the compassion we share, and how we walk with those in need.  When we let the Spirit into our lives, we are transformed and the world changes.  The problem is that those with this spirit of adventure, those that might bring new ideas to the church, those who have a call to do a new kind of ministry, are stifled, silenced and held back by those who don't.  They are expected to toe the line, follow the rules, and do it the way it's always been done.

We need to be fostering this spirit of adventure.  We need to support and encourage those who have the passion and energy to bring forth new ideas and new ways of being in the church.  We need to be lifting them up and offering them the resources they need to continue.  When they fall, we need to be there to help them up; when they fail, and people with new ideas will fail, we need to encourage them to keep trying.  We need to begin saying "Yes!" more often, rather than, "Not at this time," or "Sounds great but we can't help.," or "No, you're doing it wrong."

Jesus sent the Holy Spirit to inspire us, to fill us with power like fire, and to make our tongues feel like they are burning.  Not everyone feels this fire, so the rest of us need to be inspired by them, to be awed by the energy they bring, to offer wisdom and advice when needed, but to also get out of the way.  Let's foster this spirit of adventure in our church and see what happens when we have to leave our canoes behind and cross those Rockies.  Who knows what we'll find on the other side?

Is Self-Emptying of Power Possible?

"The history of diaconal ministry, rooted in Jesus' own ministry is an exciting one.  It reflects dimensions of the self-emptying of power, the empowerment of others, responsiveness, flexibility, practicality, and a sharing of Jesus' vision of community."  This quote comes from a 1987 document called the "The History of Diaconal Ministry," from the The United Church of Canada's Committee on Diaconal Ministry. 

It's a quote from 30 years ago that still feels relevant, although, in reading it today, I felt the need to question one phrase: "self-emptying power."  I know power can be gained and power can be let go, but can we really empty ourselves of our power?  I think this is something with which we struggle in the church and in our culture.  Some are pushing back against the idea of having white privilege because they don't want to believe that someone can have an inherent sense of power and privilege that they were born with and can't abandon.  In my experience, many ministers have struggled with the idea of their implied power and authority.  In the culture of diaconal ministry, we see ourselves as working in the margins, with those less privileged and oppressed and that we don't have the same power and authority of ordained ministers in the church.  This might be so but is there not some inherent power in just being a minister?  Might rejecting and denying our inherent power make us less effective ministers?

I had a conversation recently with a friend about clergy collars and why she wears them.  It gave me a lot to think about and I am considering whether this will work for me in my ministry.  Part of it has to do with the implied power of others over me and being recognized as a female pastor in circles where this is sometimes not respected.  It's also about helping others recognize me as a minister and eliminating the awkwardness some feel when trying to identify my role, especially in some church settings where the people encountered are secular and unsure of the traditions and rituals of the church.  I've also heard that it can be used to represent the church, for example at protest marches or pride parades, or even at funerals where it might be appropriate to wear "a uniform", for example the funeral of other clergy, firefighters, police officers, political leaders, etc.

Sometimes I think we've abandoned the collar because it makes us stick out as Christian in a very secular society.  Some of us don't like to stand out and some of us don't want the stigma that comes with being named Christian in this culture.  It's a symbol of the power we hold as ministers in the church and it makes us uncomfortable, especially as this power has been abused and is still being abused.  Ironically, when this power is abused, we sometimes make policy that attempts to hide the scandal or that puts such prohibitive rules on relationships between ministers and other community members that we get problems of isolation or a sense of otherness that creates further divisions and sometimes causes further abuse of power. 

How might we claim this power and, instead of abusing it, use it to advocate for those on the margins, use it to stand with those being oppressed, use it to be prophetic in a world that needs to hear words of truth and messages of mercy and compassion?  I don't believe one can ever empty one's self of power.  We are all vulnerable in different ways but I also think we all hold a certain amount of power, whether because of our gender, as someone who is visibly of European descent (white), straight, physically able, articulate and intelligent, charismatic, economically wealthy, the role or position we hold, and a myriad of other ways we might hold power.  I think we need to name that power, name our vulnerabilities, and decide together how they might serve the common good.

Jesus had power.  Yes, he was a Jewish man, the son of a carpenter, who lived among people oppressed by an empire.  But he was also a rabbi, a teacher, who was followed by crowds of people.  He was respected and he held a certain authority that inspired people to follow him.  If he had been a person without any kind of power, he would not have been seen as a threat and crucified.  Jesus is an example of someone who used his power to share the word of God, to heal and to empower, to speak to others in authority, and to walk with those on the margins.  May we follow his example and use our power in similar ways. 

Teaching Minister

In the United Church, there are two streams of ministry.  A person can be ordained to word, sacrament, and pastoral care or commissioned to a diaconal ministry of social justice, Christian education, and pastoral care.  For a while now, I have struggled with what that means for me.  I feel like I straddle a line between both.  If you've read past posts, you know that I feel a deep calling to diaconal ministry and the many nuances of what that means, but what I struggle with is this named differentiation of function between the two streams.

In the beginning, I chose diaconal ministry because it does not name a focus on the word.  Preaching terrified me.  Standing in front of a lot of people and sharing the gospel and my truth was something beyond my scope of thought and skill.  Christian education, on the other hand, called to me.  For a time, I had studied to be a teacher and I had always wanted to work with children. 

I soon learned that, just by virtue of being a candidate for ministry, people wanted to hear from me.  They wanted me to share my experiences and my learnings from behind the pulpit.  Also, through my studies at the Centre for Christian Studies, and its dynamic and transformative model of education, I began to find my voice.  I began to learn that I had something valuable to say and that others actually wanted to hear me say it. 

During my last year of studies, I decided that it would be best for me to be placed into a church where I was the solo minister, doing word, sacrament, and pastoral care.  I needed to learn how to stand on my own two feet and find my identity as a minister in the church.  The church settled me in Saskatchewan, where I stayed for five years, and preached almost every Sunday, and offered pastoral care to a small community. 

After five years, I decided that I wanted to try team ministry, where I was not in the pulpit every Sunday and doing pastoral visitation, but following my original call of doing Christian education, leading adult groups, Sunday School, and youth group.  I have now been doing this for almost six years.

What I've discovered is that I love what I'm doing but that I miss worship and preaching.  So although I'm not ordained to word and sacrament, I do feel called to do this work.  A term I heard recently is "teaching pastor," which seems to fit my calling.  I love my small group work with adults and young people, but also love to share my teachings in a larger space, within worship.  I love sitting one on one, talking about faith, our struggles with it, our doubts, and our fears.  I also enjoy creating programming or liturgy that engages people in growing their faith and sharing together as a community.  I also love learning together and teaching each other.  I learn most from the youngest among us and those who are different from me and the more I learn about myself and my faith, the more I can teach and share with others. 

I will continue to identify as a diaconal minister but I will function as a teaching minister, one who leads worship and preaches, leads small group studies with adults, creates programming for children and youth, and continues to seek knowledge and gain valuable experiences and grow in my own faith.  And who knows?  I've got many years before me.  That call may continue to change and grow.  For now, it's where I am.