Book Review: Lessons in Belonging

Lessons in Belonging from a Church-Going Commitment Phobe, by Erin S. Lane

I am less than halfway through this book, and in the midst of a busy Advent season at church with all the typical preparations for Christmas of a family with a young child. I want very much to sit down and spend a couple hours reading more of Erin Lane's story. She writes compellingly of her own spiritual journey, her skittishness about settling down longterm in a place, a community, and yet her half-embarrassed desire to feel a sense of belonging and connection that she can trust.

As someone born on the cusp of Generation X and the Millennial generation, and as a fellow seminary graduate, I resonate with some of what she describes, while other sections are more individually her particular experience or personality. But throughout, I appreciate her theological reflections along the way, and her thoughtfulness about what parts of her own story might be broader, typical of her generation or of humanity in general.

I believe that American society in the 21st century is deeply skeptical of earnestness, intimacy, discipline, and commitment, and the Christian faith offers meaningful resources to consider and respond to the culture around us. I love the idea of the church as "a vehicle of disillusionment" (p. 14), in the best sense - stripping us of the romantic-but-ultimately-unhelpful visions we have of relationships and life in general, helping us to see more clearly and live more truly and deeply.

I recommend Lessons in Belonging for anyone who likes the idea of church, but not the reality; anyone who loves and is invested in the church, who wants to understand younger, less-committed-to-institutions generations a little better; anyone else who identifies with the statement, "I want to belong, but I don't know how."

Erin Lane's website
Lessons in Belonging on Amazon

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR,Part 255.

This Day in History

70 years ago today, the United States dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan.

50 years ago today, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act into law.

Each day, we get to choose which values we will live out:
Violence - or nonviolence?
Destruction - or democracy?
Death - or life?

My friends, let us choose life. In all its complicated, messy, painful glory. In all its beautiful, transcendent, infuriating mystery.

Choose life, not just for yourself or for some, but life abundant and eternal, with liberty and justice for all, with compassion and hope for all, with beauty and wholeness and joy for each person, each nation, each ecosystem of this amazing universe that God created.

I believe that is how we draw close to God, by drawing closer to each other, by seeing God's divine image in each face, by recognizing each person as our sister, our brother. By listening to the cries of those who suffer and taking action for love and justice and healing.

Choose life. It isn't always easy, but it's the best way forward.

Book Review: Pray Like a Gourmet

Pray Like a Gourmet: Creative Ways to Feed Your Soul, by David Brazzeal
Reviewed by Kerry Greenhill

I am a prayer book junkie. I love books on prayer and spirituality – I love buying them, love reading them, and sometimes I even put them into practice. Sometimes. So while I liked the premise of Pray Like a Gourmet: Creative Ways to Feed Your Soul, I didn’t expect to learn much that was new, or gain insights I hadn’t heard before. I was pleasantly surprised.

The extended metaphor of prayer as a meal we can enjoy in God’s company works on many levels. I have to admit, the first couple chapters I was resisting the author’s style and found it a little cheesy. But that may say more about my inherent skepticism than a flaw in the writing.

The insight I found most intriguing is the idea that you can plan your prayer time – like a menu – based on types of prayer (praise, confession, lament, joining, etc.) and modes of expression (writing, music, movement). I realized that my unexamined expectation was that you schedule your prayer time, then it just happens – maybe with words, maybe with silence, but spontaneously, as the Spirit leads. I like the idea that the Spirit can lead you through planning a richer, more diverse, and more creative combination of approaches than whatever your default is.

I also appreciated the specific suggestions for how to experiment with the different types and modes of prayer. There are lots of ideas for practical application here, along with sound theology that leaves room for readers of a variety of perspectives.

I love the high-quality paper and full-color artwork that graces the pages. One minor frustration was that some of the text is in yellow or orange, making it difficult to read. Fortunately, these are generally only a word or phrase here and there, so it doesn't interfere significantly with the book's readability.


Ultimately, I found Pray Like a Gourmet to be an interesting, accessible read that would work well for individual or group study. I commend it to all who are seeking to expand or deepen their prayer life.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR,Part 255.

A Blessing for Those Beginning a New Ministry Appointment

to be read with the tongue positioned gently in the cheek

May your car start easily and your keys turn smoothly to open the church doors;
may your accompanist arrive early and your liturgist be on time.
May you accurately gauge the height of chancel steps and the length of your robe,
and may your microphone amplify your voice without ear-splitting feedback.
May your sermon notes remain in order and your mouth not get too dry;
may your insights find a landing place in ears and hearts and minds.
May your congregation welcome you with grace and hospitality,
and wait until you’ve learned their names before triangulating you in their drama.
May your preaching be genuine and your own heart be fully present,
and may the Holy Mystery surround and fill and meet you in this new place,
today and each day that you are here.

© 2014 Kerry Greenhill

Water Breaks

Another new year, another renewed commitment to writing. But this year I have a plan, and even with a baby on the way, I really will make it happen!

Here's a prayer-poem for the Baptism of Jesus, which is this Sunday. 

Water Breaks

Frozen, it expands

until it cannot be contained

by pipes too fixed and firm

in their places. 

Rushing, it roars 

through canyons and down streambeds

washing away dust, 

mud, rock, road,

truck, house, church, 

town. 

Pulsing, it pours

or trickles down the legs

after months of suspending 

a growing miracle

as another woman 

crosses the threshold

toward meeting her descending child. 

Lapping, it opens

as a man's head emerges

from the quiet murky mystery

into shimmering, dove-shaped

light. 

Dripping and dancing, it blesses

infant, child, youth, adult

with the grace that goes before us, 

tearing down walls 

between sisters and brothers,

smashing the chains of alienation,

anger, judgment, fear, 

addiction, apathy, despair,

and death. 

May the water within you

and around you

break 

in ways that make life

and wholeness

more possible each day. 

Permission is granted to use this prayer-poem in worship. Please acknowledge with (c) Kerry Greenhill, 2014.

Discerning Calling: Coaches, companions, and conversation partners

This post is a reflection on "Who influenced you in discerning your Call to Ministry?" as part of the Exploration 2013 Blog Day. If you are a young adult between 18-26 and are wondering whether God might be calling you to ordained ministry, consider attending Exploration 2013, this November in Denver, Colorado - learn more at ExploreCalling.org.

Who and where I am today

I am an Ordained Deacon in The United Methodist Church. I believe I am called to this role to live out the ministry of a deacon, which includes bridging the gap that too often exists between the life of the local congregation and the needs of the world. I have been affirmed and set apart by colleagues in the New England Conference as having the gifts, grace, and fruits suitable for a lifetime ministry of Word and Service.

Currently, I live out my call through two (part-time) paid positions: as Field Coordinator for Imagine No Malaria in the Rocky Mountain Conference of The United Methodist Church, and as Communications Manager for Family Voices Colorado, a non-profit organization that advocates for improvements to health care for children and youth with special health care needs. Neither of these are exactly what I imagined when I first started on my journey to ordained ministry some 15 years ago--but they are not so far off, either.

Finding a faith home

I was raised in a church-going family, and had a sense of faith in God from a pretty early age. But throughout high school, I found more meaning in volunteering in the church nursery than attending worship services. When I went off to college, I intended to explore various different religious paths to see if there was one that felt like a better fit than the United Methodist church my family attended in New Hampshire. But my mom encouraged me to try out the Wesley Foundation, the Methodist campus ministry, just to see what it was like.

It turned out to be my home away from home for four years.

The campus minister, Rev. David Hindman, was a big part of creating the welcoming community I experienced there, as he made a point of learning everyone's name on first meeting, and greeting them by name the next time he saw them. He was goofy enough to put a self-conscious teenager at ease, and sincere enough to create a safe space for serious conversations. David was one of my first mentors in ministry, mainly because he was the first to suggest to me directly that I should consider the possibility of pursuing ordained ministry myself.

Spacious conversations

I was never sure whether I was cut out (created) for ordering the life of a congregation as a pastor; I am a strong introvert, feeling drained by overexposure to socializing with people in groups. And I was still developing my own theology, figuring out what I believed about God's love and judgment, about whether there was only one right choice in any situation, one right path in life for each person, or whether God left things a little more open-ended.

As I wrestled with these questions, David offered the wisdom and perspectives of different theologians and church leaders alongside his own experience as fodder for my consideration. As I remember it, there were some questions of belief he refused to answer directly, and others he was willing to be clear about his own views while still making space for those who saw things differently. He affirmed my gifts, and my self-knowledge regarding the challenges of a public role as an introvert. One time, he asked me what I thought the ideal kind of work for me would look like, and I answered, "I want to advocate for those who are vulnerable, especially women and children; I want to be able to write, and speak publicly, and teach."

"Sounds a lot like ministry to me," he replied.

I took part in a ministry discernment group with other students who were thinking along similar lines, leading a Covenant Discipleship Group and meeting with other small group leaders to begin the Ministry Inquiry Process (one of the first steps in the United Methodist ordination process). There were others in our group who were more certain about ministry; among a dozen Wesleyites in the class of '99, at least 5 of us have gone on to seminary at some point since, some straight out of college. A good friend of mine attended Exploration '96 and found it very helpful in confirming her sense of call. Today she is a campus minister (technically, university chaplain) in England.

Life experience as discernment

I was fortunate in the timing of my college experience, in that the UMC in 1996 shifted their understanding of ordained ministry, recognizing the Order of Deacon as a separate path to ordination for those called to ministries in or beyond the local church that exemplified service, compassion, and justice. Previously, those pursuing ordination were ordained first as a deacon, and then a couple years later, ordained again as an elder.* The new structure recognized more clearly the variety of ministries to which individuals might be called by God and affirmed by the church.

I didn't feel sure enough about my sense of call to apply to seminary right after college, and I wanted a few years to go out and work in the world before I went back to school anyway. So I spent a year doing volunteer work in Venezuela (arranged through the Student Christian Movement at a Presbyterian church in Caracas, which I got connected with through a summer trip the Wesley Foundation helped me participate in), then two years working full-time at a non-profit in the Boston area (Child Welfare League of America) and working part-time as Young Adult Coordinator and Contemporary Worship Leader for College Avenue United Methodist Church.

In Venezuela, I learned that while I believe in ministries of compassion, I am not well suited to direct social service. And I grew stronger in my progressive social and theological views in the face of encounters with those who held to a stricter, more conservative faith. In Boston, I found that I wanted to pursue work that allowed me to explicitly acknowledge and connect my faith to action on a daily basis. I applied to seminary with the intention of becoming a writer: I wanted to write about Christianity in a way that was accessible to those outside the church.

Discernment through Discipline

My first day at seminary, I decided to change degree programs, from the broadly academic Master of Theological Studies to the more practical-ministry-oriented Master of Divinity. Iliff School of Theology was gracious enough to extend my financial aid for the extra year of coursework. While I still didn't feel called to parish ministry, I recognized that there were other paths that interested me (like campus ministry) that would require the MDiv, and I wanted to keep my options open.

After my first year at Iliff, I decided to revisit the question of ordination, so I took United Methodist Doctrine as a summer intensive course: one week from start to finish, with an oral exam on Friday covering material we first encountered on Monday. I wanted to make sure that I could maintain my intellectual integrity if I did go through with what at that time was a seven-year process. And although there were elements of John Wesley's teaching and sections of the Book of Discipline with which I did not quite see eye to eye, still I found a lot to affirm, and there seemed room enough for disagreement within the covenant community, and a process by which to change official positions of the denomination.

So after passing the class, I chose a day for prayer and fasting - not a frequent part of my spiritual life, but one that has stood the test of time - to seek God's guidance about pursuing ordination. I read the sections of the Book of Discipline that describe the different orders of ministry. And I found that the section on the Ministry of the Deacon resonated powerfully within me, in a way that seemed to speak to my highest values and deepest convictions. And I believed that this was a way to serve God that would be life-giving for me and pleasing to God.

Companions on the journey

I first started thinking about ministry as a vocation in about 1997. I decided to resume my inquiry process in 2003, and was finally ordained as a Deacon in Full Connection in 2009. In those six years, I had the support and company of many gifted and gracious people. Classmates in seminary shared intellectual passions and learning experiences in a variety of ministry settings as we went through our field education placements together. Experienced ministers Rev. Linda Gertenbach and Rev. Linda Marshall, both deacons, served as mentors for different stages of my candidacy process; Rev. Betty Bradford, an elder, was my supervisor in a local church setting for nearly 10 years. I participated in the Residency in Ministry retreats for provisional ministers in the Rocky Mountain Conference, even though I was still a member in New England, because I felt I would benefit from the community of peers and opportunities for spiritual formation as a minister that the program offered.

Not done yet

With some surprise, I find that I am doing almost exactly what I thought I wanted to do fifteen years ago: I advocate for children in Africa dying of malaria, and for children with disabilities in Colorado whose families struggle to access quality health care. I write every week, on websites and blogs, for each of these roles, and I give presentations and sermons about how God in Jesus Christ offers abundant life and calls us to be part of that life-changing work for others' sake. Although working multiple jobs has been challenging at times (I've been doing it for most of the last 14 years), it has allowed me to feel that I am fulfilling the call of the Deacon to bridge the gap between the church and the needs of the world in a very real and concrete way.

And the journey continues, along with the need for ongoing discernment. Ordination was a major milestone on this ministry path, but not the end by any means. In the local church, United Methodist pastors are asked each year whether they believe they are still effective in that setting, or if it might be time for them to move on. Deacons who serve in or beyond the local church may have annual opportunities for that kind of reflection, may stay in one place for ten years, or may find themselves unexpectedly looking for work when church or organizational circumstances change.

It's not easy, always wanting to be intentional and faithful in one's vocational choices. But I am so thankful for all who have walked and talked with me along the way, helping me stay open to God's leading, suggesting possibilities I may have overlooked, comforting and challenging me by turn to stay true to who God has created and called me to be. May it be so for you as well.

+ + +

*Elders are charged with ministries of Word, Service, Order, and Sacrament; they are itinerant, which means they agree to go where the bishop sends them to serve; and they have security of appointment: as long as they remain in good standing - and agree to itinerancy - they are guaranteed work within the church. Deacons are charged with ministries of Word and Service; they are not itinerant, because so many deacons serve outside the local church and in different capacities than elders; and they do not have security of appointment: they have the freedom and the responsibility of finding their own work.

New job

Last month, I started a new job. For those of you playing along at home, that's 3 places of employment, which is my new excuse for not blogging (or doing much non-work-related writing) over the past few weeks. In addition to serving as Associate Pastor at Highlands UMC (the position that ends next week), and Communications Manager for Family Voices Colorado, I am now the Field Coordinator for Imagine No Malaria in the Rocky Mountain Conference of The United Methodist Church.

I'm excited to be part of Imagine No Malaria's extraordinary and historic work to end preventable deaths and suffering from malaria in Africa, where  a child dies from malaria every 60 seconds. That's far too many children who don't live to see adulthood, but the death rate is already half what it was just a few years ago.

The United Methodist Church is partnering with the UN Foundation, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, and the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis, and Malaria in developing a comprehensive approach that includes the insecticide-treated bed nets that made Nothing But Nets such a successful campaign, and adds other prevention measures (draining standing water where the mosquitoes that spread malaria breed), plus treatment by stocking hospitals and clinics with rapid diagnostic kits and effective medications, education on how to use bed nets and the importance of seeking treatment quickly through trained community health workers, communication by radio and cell phone to raise public awareness, and advocacy for continued global health funding to fight these diseases of poverty.

As a denomination, we are working to raise $75 million by 2015. The Rocky Mountain Conference share of that is $1.2 million, which seems like a lot until you learn that it works out to just $20 for every member of every United Methodist Church in our region (Colorado, Utah, most of Wyoming). I am confident that we can achieve this goal, and it is my hope that we will surpass it with the enthusiasm of a people who believe that Jesus came so that all people might have abundant life in God's name (John 10:10).

If you're interested in learning more about this ministry of healing and saving lives, you can follow the campaign in Rocky Mountain at our blog, like the RMC Facebook page, or contact me at kerry [at] rmcumc [dot] com.

We now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Kyrie eleison: on the Newtown, Connecticut, shooting

My heart breaks for the children, families, and community of Newtown, Connecticut today. Although I do not believe God causes or intends violence in the world, the phrase "Kyrie eleison," ancient Greek for "Lord, have mercy," keeps running through my mind. In a more extended form, this is my prayer:

Mothering God, bring comfort to those who mourn. God of justice and mercy, teach us what changes we can make in our society to prevent such tragedies, and give us the courage to persevere in the face of opposition. Holy One, remind us once more that we are all your children, all sisters and brothers in one human family, all inextricably woven together in the fabric of creation, and transform us by that knowledge to regard one another with love. In the name of Jesus, who was called the Prince of Peace, I pray. Amen.

A quick Google search for "school shooting" yields 163,000,000 results. After the Wikipedia entry for the category, the names of places display like a devastating roll call: Amish school shooting. Rio de Janeiro. Emsdetten. Kauhajoki. Rocori. Maryland. Ohio. Although it has yet to reach the top 10 results, today's tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary, leaving 18 children (kindergarteners) and 10 adults dead, is sure to show up soon. A friend posted on Twitter that there have been 31 school shootings since Columbine - and that doesn't include movie theaters, Sikh temples, camps, malls, and other places that should be safe.

I have opinions about what we as a society should do at the policy level, to make mental health services more available and guns, especially automatic or semi-automatic weapons, less so. And I have theological beliefs about what God desires for humankind (abundant life, justice, love, wholeness). And I am so grateful for my friends and colleagues who are making eloquent arguments that unite those two arenas in urgent calls to action - because I do not believe that prayer, by itself, is sufficient response. I believe God calls us to put prayer into action, to help bring about the kin'dom of heaven on earth.

But right now, I have a sermon to finish writing, about light in the darkness, about longing for something brighter and muddling through, about choosing joy in the midst of struggle. And so I pray that if, today, you need to turn off the news to be kind to yourself, to show love for your family, to cultivate peace in your own heart, that you will do that. And I pray that we will engage in conversation, as friends and family, as communities, as a nation and as a global society, about how to care for those with mental illness, how to stay connected to people who are troubled so they do not reach the extremes of despair and isolation, how to protect children and other vulnerable people, how to prevent violence and offer healing to those who carry the scars of violence in body, mind, or spirit, and how together we can move toward a vision of a world of justice, peace, compassion, and joy.

Spirit Day: Compassion and Courage

As one who seeks to follow Jesus, I believe that "Love your neighbor as yourself" means showing respect, kindness, and compassion to all people. At the same time, I remember being 11 or 12 and caught up in a playground culture of figuring out where I was in the social pecking order. I know there were times I was unkind to others in an effort to seem "cool," and I deeply regret those actions.

I pray that people of all ages will reflect today on what it means to show strength through kindness and understanding, especially towards those who are or seem different from what society says is valuable. Speaking out on behalf of those who are being bullied, teased, attacked, or marginalized takes courage, but you will never regret acting with integrity.

Deacons and Order: A Personal Journey

Posted at Deacons Hold the Bowl on September 22, 2012.

Within the sometimes ambiguous and occasionally mysterious world of the Ordained Deacon in Full Connection, I find myself straddling two camps in more ways than one.

In the United Methodist Church, Deacons are, generally speaking, called to serve as a bridge between the church and the needs of the world. Deacons can be appointed to ministries within or beyond the local church; most Deacons can quickly tell you in which of those areas their primary appointment falls.  For the past five years, I have been appointed to both.

I serve as an associate pastor in a small, progressive, urban congregation in northwest Denver, and I also work part-time for a non-profit organization that advocates for improved access to and quality of health care for children with special needs.

Don’t you want your own church?
While I was going through the ordination process, a total of about six years, I was asked repeatedly – by the District Committee on Ministry, by the interview team on the Board of Ordained Ministry, by clergy colleagues and seminary classmates – if I was sure that I was called to be a Deacon. “Don’t you think someday you’ll want your own church?” one friend asked me on more than one occasion.

My answer, admittedly a bit of a hedge, was usually along the lines of, “I’m open to the possibility that God will call me to lead a church at some point, but that doesn’t feel like the right fit for me right now.  I just don’t feel called to order the life of the local congregation.”

I appreciate that many of these people asked the question out of a desire to affirm my gifts for leadership. And each time I was asked, I would again direct some time and energy into prayerful discernment, to figure out whether the question itself was God at work through those close to me. Pursuing the kind of ministry that everyone understands has its appeal, and there are advantages to being an Elder (even with the possible removal of security of appointment) that the ministry of a Deacon does not offer.

But over the years, I have come to believe that this question of Order is really the sticking-point in my sense of call. Yes, I can (and do) preach, and teach. I love the sacraments wholeheartedly and would treasure the opportunity to offer baptism and Communion directly to whomever asked, whether an Elder was present or not. I attend Finance Committee and SPRC meetings, and Trustees when time allows (I am part-time, after all); for five years, I have been privileged to have a very collegial relationship with the senior pastor and have been included in almost every major decision-making process and vision-setting discussion. I participate in the administration of the local church in varied and significant ways.

But I do not desire to be the person in charge.

Leadership vs. Order
This intuitive conviction was affirmed this summer, when the alignment of the planets – or God’s wicked sense of humor, if you prefer – meant that a pastoral transition at my church and an executive transition at the non-profit where I work took place at exactly the same time. And I was asked to fill the gap in the interim period in both places.  So for one month, I was both the Acting Lead Pastor (the title I came up with) and Interim Executive Director, both part-time.  Never mind that both of these are full-time roles, or that I hadn’t sought out either one. There was a need, and I was asked to serve as a bridge, connecting the past with the future.

I think I did fairly well. I received positive feedback from the congregation, and from my coworkers, about my efforts during that time. And I could not be more relieved that I am not in either of those roles any more.  There are people who relish being in charge, who have gifts and graces that equip them to discern a vision, make decisions, and guide the whole congregation toward a goal. I appreciate having opportunities to lead, and to have a voice in planning and decision-making, but I prefer to work with or for others most of the time.

The thing is, I don’t believe I need to be in charge of a congregation to be a leader. My sense of call is more about helping others connect their story with God’s story than it is about guiding the people of God toward a goal. My leadership comes through writing, teaching, and preaching, developing personal relationships, planning and leading worship, coordinating the work of committees and teams in the church, and directing the choir. I am striving to live out the Deacon’s call to ministry as a set-aside servant leader, one who embodies the service to which all Christians are called, and invites the followers of Jesus into their own ministries of compassion and justice.

Christ has no body now but yours
Sometimes God calls us to work for which we don’t feel qualified, but we find in stepping up that we are capable of more than we realized. Sometimes doors close and windows open in unexpected ways. But I was moved and persuaded by Parker Palmer when I read Let Your Life Speak in seminary, that how God calls us is generally in harmony with how God has created us.

And – at least right now – I don’t believe I am created for, or called to, ordering the life of the church.

But I believe the church needs Deacons – and Elders, committed laypeople, local pastors, certified lay ministers, and all the other names we give to the ways in which people intentionally choose to serve God – to support and strengthening the functioning of the Body of Christ in important ways.  The head is of course important, with eyes for vision and mouth for communication, but so are the hands and feet and heart of the Body, reaching out to touch those in need, being stirred by compassion and courage to guide the work of the whole. Together, we serve God in the world through many ministries, with many gifts, but guided by one Spirit. May it be so for you and for me.

Rev. Kerry Greenhill is Associate Pastor at Highlands UMC in Denver and Communications Manager at Family Voices Colorado. You can follow her on Twitter.

Prayer for General Conference

So much for weekly blogging... I will post life/work/ministry updates sometime in the coming weeks, but for now I just wanted to share a prayer I am working on music for, as delegates from around the world meet in Tampa, Florida, to decide matters of great importance regarding the structure, policies, practices, and official teachings of The United Methodist Church. Others are doing excellent work reporting and reflecting on the specifics of those decisions; I am following along as time allows, and holding all involved in prayer.

Prayer for #GC2012

May our conversations be holy
May every vote be bathed in prayer
May we listen well to those who are on the margins
May we always speak with care

May we hear the voices of all God's children
May we always offer grace
May we see the image of Christ in one another
When we stand face to face

May the Holy Spirit lead us forward
through this valley of tears
May God's will be done on earth as in heaven
until we find healing and peace.

Holy Saturday: Absence Makes the Heart Ponder

As I sit in my comfortable living room on this late-April Saturday and watch the snow falling on our spring garden, I find myself thinking about absence. About the disciples of Jesus, especially the women, who had seen their friend and teacher violently and shamefully executed and laid in a borrowed tomb.  About that sabbath night and day, how their weekly worship must have been overshadowed by the weight and darkness of what seemed like the end of what they had been hoping for. 

The Apostles' Creed teaches that between crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus descended to the dead, and tradition says that his purpose was to release the righteous men and women of the Hebrew Scriptures from hell.  But this is one of those doctrines that developed with the benefit of hindsight; Jesus' friends and followers had little evidence that his death was anything other than a personal and public tragedy.

Today is the time in between.  The rest between musical movements, the blank space between sentences or paragraphs, the empty place in the heart after a loved one's death.  The old has ended, the new not yet begun - unknown, uncertain, without any guarantee that something will even happen, let alone be better than what was before.  Today is the day when God's absence seems a very real possibility, when all bets are off, when the old rules and promises and assurances have all been questioned, torn down, unwoven, and nothing has yet been rebuilt in their place.

Holy Saturday is a day for Christians to mourn, to ponder these things in their hearts (as Mary did), to trust in the rhythms of prayer and worship and community even when they feel out of synch with reality.  It is a day for anyone who has rejected what they were taught growing up (whether that is a literal 6-day creation, women as inferior to men, the idea that homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching, or the idea that Jesus died because God was angry about sin) but hasn't yet figured out what the life-giving alternatives are.  It is a day for anyone who has walked away from comfort and security for the sake of justice or integrity, and found themselves out on a limb, seemingly alone.  It is a day when we have seen what the powers of the world are capable of - a day when violence, self-preservation, and darkness seem to reign.

It is a day to lament, to confess our fears and doubts and loneliness, to acknowledge the holes in our hearts where we have known disappointment and grief.  It is a day to pray Psalm 22, as Jesus did on the cross: "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?"

And it is a day to remember how that psalm ends, not in a place of despair, but in the assurance that God is as faithful as God has always been:

For dominion belongs to the Lord, and he rules over the nations.
²⁹To him, indeed, shall all who sleep in the earth bow down; before him shall bow all who go down to the dust, and I shall live for him.
³⁰Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord,
³¹and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn, saying that he has done it.

Sometimes during Easter weekend, it feels like cheating to focus on Resurrection before we get to Sunday - like I'm supposed to live through the denials, trials, suffering, and horror of the disciples day by day, page by page, as they did, without looking ahead to the next chapter.  But Psalm 22 helps me remember that Resurrection, that new and wondrous thing, is in some ways the expected outcome from the God of our salvation, the God of Abraham and Sarah, Miriam and Moses, Ruth and David and Isaiah and Mary.  And with St Paul, I hold on to this hope:

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)

Today is a day for the times in between, the empty places in our hearts and our lives, a day to remember that God is faithful even when we cannot feel God's presence with us.  It is day to rest, and to prepare for what may come.

Blessings.