Sesame Street: Little Children, Big Challenges: Incarceration -- Sizzle ...

Condescension

I remember being offended by the thought of missionaries going from my church to the western natives in the Southwest US and to the Pacific islands. I thought it was arrogant and condescending to "take civilization to the heathen." What conceit to believe that one could benefit them merely by talking to them and telling them about how great our culture is. Certainly, these missionaries were carrying the Word of God; the Bible commands us to carry the good news to all the corners. (Mark 16:15)

But as early in my life as 9th grade, I had begun to question that the good news that Jesus was proclaiming was that people didn't have to listen to conceited, condescending missionaries, didn't have to submit to the power of armed gunboats in the lagoon. The good news was that eventually, "powerful" people would not feel the need to use power, that Love would persuade. It was a shock and revelation that there were people who read, "I am the Way and the Light. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6) and heard "If you are not a Christian you will not go to Heaven."

As I have aged, and as people have hugely misheard me, I can understand that even as he spoke, Jesus' words were being twisted and turned into power messages. Not surprising that the apostles argued amongst themselves within His hearing about who was the first among them. And not so shocking that someone remembers a Kairos weekend more for the community formed among the missionaries than for the meeting of the prisoners.

As we go into the world to minister to the sick, oppressed, imprisoned, hungry and unclothed in the world; as we go into the corridors of prejudice and power imbalances, it is a good idea to be constantly on guard against the very human temptation to feel superior to those to whom we minister.

psalm 30

Argos the yellow lab has cataracts. He never did like precipitation of any sort. Even though he is a Lab, he was born in Arizona and didn't experience water except in his dish until we got him at age <2 .="." a="a" and="and" at="at" back="back" be="be" been="been" behind="behind" but="but" called="called" cold="cold" comes="comes" could="could" covered="covered" darkness="darkness" dog.="dog." door="door" drifts="drifts" excavating.="excavating." feels="feels" fills="fills" finally="finally" garden="garden" gave="gave" get="get" got="got" gotten="gotten" guy="guy" had="had" happy="happy" has="has" he="he" heaved="heaved" hid="hid" himself="himself" his="his" house="house" i="i" in="in" into="into" joy="joy" like="like" lost="lost" morning="morning" my="my" nandi="nandi" night="night" no="no" nose="nose" now="now" on="on" out.="out." p="p" panicked="panicked" pee="pee" ran="ran" rock="rock" sadness="sadness" saw="saw" smelled="smelled" snow="snow" so="so" soil="soil" stayed="stayed" t="t" the="the" then="then" there.="there." things.="things." think="think" thinking="thinking" this="this" to="to" toward="toward" up="up" us="us" voice.="voice." walks="walks" wandered="wandered" wants="wants" was="was" wasn="wasn" went="went" wet.="wet." wet="wet" when="when" where="where" wish="wish">

IS Jesus your personal savior?

Will Christ save us, or will he be the entrance to our salvation?

Today I heard someone say, “Get ready to be saved. Christ our savior will save us from our sins!” But Jesus said “I am the Way.” And he said “Unless you follow me, you cannot enter the Kingdom.” When asked if he was King by a soldier/governor, Jesus responded, “YOU said it.” And “My kingdom is not of this world.”

 

I believe that Jesus came to be flesh not to rescue me as a maiden is rescued from the ogre’s tower, but as a teacher and leader to point the way to salvation that God provides. Using images, I believe Jesus does not scoop the drowning man out of the water, but instead throws a lifeline. The drowning man still has to pull himself up.  Is Jesus my personal savior? Will he rescue me? To the drowning man, the one who throws the rope is his savior.

 

Yet another image arises:  Jesus is the gate. He will not carry me into the sheepfold; I must go in on my own feet.  What does that mean? Knowing that my salvation is assured; knowing that I am forgiven, I must act as one who is saved. Not “fake it ‘til you make it;” not “earning one’s salvation.”  I must take on the mindset of a saved person. I must act as a member of Christ’s body. I do not ask ‘what would Jesus do?” I ask what a saved person would do.

 

I do not have to do anything to be saved or to be a member of the Church Universal. It is there like a ripe fruit on a tree, waiting to be picked and eaten and be nutritious. It is up to me to make the decision, to pick it, to eat it. But, having eaten it, it becomes a part of me. By nourishing me, it has become me. I am changed into “that person who ate that fruit.”  Most importantly, I cannot, nor can anyone, divide what was once apart and is now together. If I sin, if I give up, if I fail, that fruit is with me in that failure. If I grow, if I love, if I shine, that fruit is with me in my joy.

 

Those who do not eat, those who refuse to grasp the rope; they will continue to be offered the rope, offered more fruit. God continues to wait for us to accept His salvation. Jesus continues to hold open the gate.

We just finished the Star Bake Sale. Sadly it was a poor turnout. But it was fun meeting our long-term customers, and we gave some food to our shut-in, "L". The security guard got a banana bread, as well. Lots of love and nutrition too.

My Chapter of Order of Eastern Star, Corinthian Fellowship #322 has a bake sale every second Saturday. I made fifteen banana breads, 16 mac and cheese, 5 baked beans, 5 scalloped potatoes and 5 herbal stuffings. This month, one of the ladies made roast chicken, stuffing and a teeny tiny packet of cranberry sauce, One lady made 12 mini meatloaves, someone made single serving chicken parm over ziti. We each try to do something different as well as the staples. Peanut butter cookies, still warm, and brownies. One lady made molasses cookies and her 36 year-old son came to visit and ate all 24. We also had brownies and some sugar cookies, some chicken rice and spirals with mini meat balls.

This is a ministry of presence and visitation. The customers get to see us, talk to a "vendor" and give us their orders for next month, we also patronize their breakfast before we "open shop" and the members of the Chapter get to contribute to the project. The customers get good home style food at a bargain rate, the Chapter gets money to help with the rent and we all have a great time.

I love the work of making the food the night before. My oven gets a workout, my mixer gets used and my home smells of banana bread for a couple of days. The dogs don't like being sequestered, but they enjoy the activity. Best of all, there is one night a month I can't collapse into my easy chair. It's good for me, body mind and soul!

I have a dear friend from 10 years ago (we connected in California and our friendship burst into bloom very quickly) who is going through a heavy reaction to a breakup. He is in dire pain, and I am not going to be able to visit him. The best I could do was write this to him.

Roger, my brother, reach into your heart for that small still quiet voice. It will affirm that you are loved, deeply, sincerely and without limit. It will also tell you that I am one of a crowd loving you from outside your skin, waiting for a chance to kiss you with warm affection.

The Invisible God

I work as an occasional chaplain at Strong Memorial Hospital. Our chapel was built in the 20's, I believe. It was built as an Interfaith Chapel, with no religious doctrinal decorations. But in their naivete, the donors and builders erected a worship area that faces north, and in beautiful Tiffany glass tesserae, applied the 23rd Psalm to the liturgical east wall.To us in the 21st century, the attempt at "interfaith"fulness was sincere but unsuccessful.

I spent some lengthy time there as I wrestled with my membership in the Episcopal Church. I believed God was calling me to parochial ministry, but the Diocese, in the person of the Commission on Ministry and the Canon (man) who led it, did not agree, so I was cast aside. As I sat grieving the loss of my happiness and anticipated fulfillment, I noticed that the workmen who applied the mosaic had not made the golden background random. Like many of the eye exercises making the rounds of the internet, where you can see Marilym Monroe and Albert Einstein in the same photo depending on hw near or farsighted you are, I began to realize that there is a message in the tiles. There are four or five shades of gold, but in one section, the lighter pieces spell out "I am with you."

I have pointed it out to several people, and some can see it and some cannot. There are days when I am unable to see it myself, but I am convinced that it is there.

It struck me that we believe in an invisible God, one who does not make himself known, in part because that would limit God, and play into our limited perceptions. But like the message left for me and for many, God speaks to us, not in riddles, but through others and in a way that we have to be prepared to receive.

Someone bustling in to "do" a worship service, busy with preparations, setting up the podium and microphone and turning on the broadcast system would not notice God's presence. Nor would an overwrought relative, seeking comfort in a group of worshipers. But the solitary person, sitting quietly, asking God for the grace to accept what must be accepted, might see the message. And once seen, it is always there, even if the eye does not perceive it.

My faith is like that. It took me more than a year to understand that God had not played a trick on me, nor had the Church betrayed me (although they treated me badly) and that I had not been psychotic or egotistic. But as I sat quietly and contemplated, as I calmed and asked, I heard that still small voice saying that I had rushed to conclusions and had gotten lost. "I am still with you." "I am faithful." "I love you." and most important, "Your efforts to please me please me."

I bless that workman who did not randomize his material 90 some years ago.