Greetings readers, in the past I have tried to maintain a weekly post in support of the coming Sunday's lectionary. The pace has been challenging to say the least, especially in light of other needs and demands upon me. To offer the best writing and reflections possible, I will be reducing the frequency of my posts to once or twice a month. As the saying goes, sometimes less is more. Thank you for your time, attention, and readership and I hope you'll continue to visit this blog. May Christ's Peace be with you.
Brad Shumate
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
"Here, See What's Written"
For Sunday, January 16th, 2010
(Graphic is St. Vitale - Jeremiah, mosaic panel on the spandrel of`the north wall of the chancel depicting Jeremiah opening a scroll. Date: 521-547, Basilica di S. Vitale; Ravenna, Italy)
I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.
Happy are those who make the LORD their trust, who do not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after false gods. You have multiplied, O LORD my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you. Were I to proclaim and tell of them, they would be more than can be counted.
Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, but you have given me an open ear. Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required. Then I said, "Here I am; in the scroll of the book it is written of me. I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart."
I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation; see, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O LORD. I have not hidden your saving help within my heart, I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation. Do not, O LORD, withhold your mercy from me; let your steadfast love and your faithfulness keep me safe forever.
Psalm 40 is part of the lectionary scriptures for this coming Sunday. It’s a psalm that speaks to me. In it, there are words and phrases I take to heart in times of crisis. Those phrases are the ones that witness of waiting patiently upon God, seeking for God to hear cries for justice and God’s nature being inclined toward answering those petitions. Lastly, perhaps most importantly, there are the psalmist’s affirmations that even in the desolate pit or miry bog of some situation or circumstance, God comes and lifts us out of it, putting our feet back onto secure ground, pointing the way ahead, and getting us moving.
Like the psalmist, I witness that God has done the above in my life -- time and time again. And with each time, a new song has found its way into my heart. It’s much like a professor friend of mine who when we have our long chats, he will recall a song that touched him at a particular point in time in regards to some life situation. The situation might have been a crisis, something challenging, or a moment of utter joy. For each of those, he bookmarks the experience with a popular song that captures what he has been through. It’s a rather amazing thing he does and from our thirty-three years of friendship, when those moments occur for him, I’ve learned that in this way he makes a spiritual connection to the sacred and divine which ministers to him.
In my life, when there have been those times of the desolate pit and miry bog and God lifted me out of such things and placed me securely into healthier circumstances, blessings have multiplied beyond what I would have thought possible. When I found it necessary in the early 1990s to leave full time ministry and return to public mental health practice, I had no idea that within three short years I would go from being a night shift psychiatric crisis worker to care-managing all adult mental health services in our county. It seemed nothing less than what the psalmist affirms that God multiplies wondrous deeds and blessings. In the end, I knew that God had been with me and my family from that point of disruption in our lives to points of new opportunity. Even mental health colleagues would observe and comment on this and knowing my background in ministry would ask that I officiate at weddings, funerals, visiting and blessing the sick. I remember one occasion that a colleague approached me and urged that I start my own church. Out of loyalty to my current faith tradition, I pleaded, “Please don’t tempt me. You have no idea how often I have thought of doing so.” To which my colleague replied, “There are people in this community Brad who would like to see it happen and would support you.”
We ministers are criticized at times for sharing our life experiences. There are those who grossly generalize and tell us that no one wants to hear such stuff. They tell us to quit sharing so openly and limit ourselves to expounding on scripture. In my experience, I find that this criticism mostly comes from folks who have long histories of being churched. Interesting how the witness of a psalmist’s life story from so long ago and the witness of a modern disciple are considered by some churched folks as incompatible.
For the non-churched, research tells us the sentiment is exactly the opposite. The non-churched want to hear our life experiences and need to see our lives in action so they can determine our spiritual authenticity. This is why I share and witness as I do. The purpose is not self-aggrandizement, but rather to offer a contemporary witness as did the psalmist offer his witness to his circle of influence so long ago. Together, we boldly testify, “Here I am, in the scroll of the book it is written of me…….”
What is it that will be written in the scroll of the book of life regarding you, your story and your witness, what your life became because of God’s influence, and what your life accomplished for the Common Good. A small glimpse of that came during dinner with my father one evening long ago in my young adult years. He said a rather intriguing thing during our time together. He told me that God made known to him that I would one day enter full-time ministry and that my denomination would ask me to do so. He then expressed hope that I would not do so. He said that such a life would be full of trial, conflict, deep heart-wrenching sacrifice, and ultimately quite hard on me. He then said that should I decide to do so any that God would always be with me and that efforts by others to diminish, undermine, or harm me would in the end not stand. He then said, “God will protect you. God will see you through.”
From time to time, I stop and think regarding the things my father said. They have buoyed me up and allowed me to hang in there with touch situations longer than perhaps I should have. His words carried me through heartbreak and times of abandonment, especially by people who I thought were in my corner and had my back. On that note, I recall words from an evangelist’s blessing I received years and years ago. It’s a sacrament in my faith tradition that we liken to a personal page of scripture to guide one’s life. In the blessing, one of the most powerful things I experienced and felt were when the evangelist said, “May he have the courage to serve you, even when others do not, even if he must serve alone as did Daniel in other days.” Sometimes it has been a very lonely road and when I feel that way I think back to those words and think back of Daniel and then I’m able to move forward again with God “making my steps secure”.
Trusting God and finding courage as the psalmist urges makes a difference in how the world perceives you and it’s what the world wants to know about you. A couple of years ago at a dinner roast in a judicatory that I served for sixteen years, a colleague I barely knew from another judicatory came to provide guest ministry. At one point during the meal, he stood and commented that I have a reputation among my colleagues “for taking things to the mat” when necessary. When I heard that I was touched. I was touched for the simplicity, eloquence, and imagery of my colleague’s statement. One thing for sure is that my colleague had no way of knowing that I wrestled in high school! What an incredible thing to say, especially from someone who barely knows you. Maybe that one will make its way into the scroll of the book the psalmist mentions.
So I share the above in my posting this week to honor words from Psalm 40 that say we should not hide in our hearts the witness of God’s saving help. Instead we must take opportunity to speak out to the great congregation of God’s faithfulness and God’s deliverance and acknowledge that even in times of trial we have a heavenly parent who will be there for us no matter the challenges we face. So to the congregation that reads this blog let me end with saying, “Here I am, see what’s written…...”
(Graphic is St. Vitale - Jeremiah, mosaic panel on the spandrel of`the north wall of the chancel depicting Jeremiah opening a scroll. Date: 521-547, Basilica di S. Vitale; Ravenna, Italy)
Lectionary Scripture - Psalm 40:1-11 NRSV
I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.
Happy are those who make the LORD their trust, who do not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after false gods. You have multiplied, O LORD my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you. Were I to proclaim and tell of them, they would be more than can be counted.
Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, but you have given me an open ear. Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required. Then I said, "Here I am; in the scroll of the book it is written of me. I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart."
I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation; see, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O LORD. I have not hidden your saving help within my heart, I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation. Do not, O LORD, withhold your mercy from me; let your steadfast love and your faithfulness keep me safe forever.
“Here, See What's Written”
Psalm 40 is part of the lectionary scriptures for this coming Sunday. It’s a psalm that speaks to me. In it, there are words and phrases I take to heart in times of crisis. Those phrases are the ones that witness of waiting patiently upon God, seeking for God to hear cries for justice and God’s nature being inclined toward answering those petitions. Lastly, perhaps most importantly, there are the psalmist’s affirmations that even in the desolate pit or miry bog of some situation or circumstance, God comes and lifts us out of it, putting our feet back onto secure ground, pointing the way ahead, and getting us moving.
Like the psalmist, I witness that God has done the above in my life -- time and time again. And with each time, a new song has found its way into my heart. It’s much like a professor friend of mine who when we have our long chats, he will recall a song that touched him at a particular point in time in regards to some life situation. The situation might have been a crisis, something challenging, or a moment of utter joy. For each of those, he bookmarks the experience with a popular song that captures what he has been through. It’s a rather amazing thing he does and from our thirty-three years of friendship, when those moments occur for him, I’ve learned that in this way he makes a spiritual connection to the sacred and divine which ministers to him.
In my life, when there have been those times of the desolate pit and miry bog and God lifted me out of such things and placed me securely into healthier circumstances, blessings have multiplied beyond what I would have thought possible. When I found it necessary in the early 1990s to leave full time ministry and return to public mental health practice, I had no idea that within three short years I would go from being a night shift psychiatric crisis worker to care-managing all adult mental health services in our county. It seemed nothing less than what the psalmist affirms that God multiplies wondrous deeds and blessings. In the end, I knew that God had been with me and my family from that point of disruption in our lives to points of new opportunity. Even mental health colleagues would observe and comment on this and knowing my background in ministry would ask that I officiate at weddings, funerals, visiting and blessing the sick. I remember one occasion that a colleague approached me and urged that I start my own church. Out of loyalty to my current faith tradition, I pleaded, “Please don’t tempt me. You have no idea how often I have thought of doing so.” To which my colleague replied, “There are people in this community Brad who would like to see it happen and would support you.”
We ministers are criticized at times for sharing our life experiences. There are those who grossly generalize and tell us that no one wants to hear such stuff. They tell us to quit sharing so openly and limit ourselves to expounding on scripture. In my experience, I find that this criticism mostly comes from folks who have long histories of being churched. Interesting how the witness of a psalmist’s life story from so long ago and the witness of a modern disciple are considered by some churched folks as incompatible.
For the non-churched, research tells us the sentiment is exactly the opposite. The non-churched want to hear our life experiences and need to see our lives in action so they can determine our spiritual authenticity. This is why I share and witness as I do. The purpose is not self-aggrandizement, but rather to offer a contemporary witness as did the psalmist offer his witness to his circle of influence so long ago. Together, we boldly testify, “Here I am, in the scroll of the book it is written of me…….”
What is it that will be written in the scroll of the book of life regarding you, your story and your witness, what your life became because of God’s influence, and what your life accomplished for the Common Good. A small glimpse of that came during dinner with my father one evening long ago in my young adult years. He said a rather intriguing thing during our time together. He told me that God made known to him that I would one day enter full-time ministry and that my denomination would ask me to do so. He then expressed hope that I would not do so. He said that such a life would be full of trial, conflict, deep heart-wrenching sacrifice, and ultimately quite hard on me. He then said that should I decide to do so any that God would always be with me and that efforts by others to diminish, undermine, or harm me would in the end not stand. He then said, “God will protect you. God will see you through.”
From time to time, I stop and think regarding the things my father said. They have buoyed me up and allowed me to hang in there with touch situations longer than perhaps I should have. His words carried me through heartbreak and times of abandonment, especially by people who I thought were in my corner and had my back. On that note, I recall words from an evangelist’s blessing I received years and years ago. It’s a sacrament in my faith tradition that we liken to a personal page of scripture to guide one’s life. In the blessing, one of the most powerful things I experienced and felt were when the evangelist said, “May he have the courage to serve you, even when others do not, even if he must serve alone as did Daniel in other days.” Sometimes it has been a very lonely road and when I feel that way I think back to those words and think back of Daniel and then I’m able to move forward again with God “making my steps secure”.
Trusting God and finding courage as the psalmist urges makes a difference in how the world perceives you and it’s what the world wants to know about you. A couple of years ago at a dinner roast in a judicatory that I served for sixteen years, a colleague I barely knew from another judicatory came to provide guest ministry. At one point during the meal, he stood and commented that I have a reputation among my colleagues “for taking things to the mat” when necessary. When I heard that I was touched. I was touched for the simplicity, eloquence, and imagery of my colleague’s statement. One thing for sure is that my colleague had no way of knowing that I wrestled in high school! What an incredible thing to say, especially from someone who barely knows you. Maybe that one will make its way into the scroll of the book the psalmist mentions.
So I share the above in my posting this week to honor words from Psalm 40 that say we should not hide in our hearts the witness of God’s saving help. Instead we must take opportunity to speak out to the great congregation of God’s faithfulness and God’s deliverance and acknowledge that even in times of trial we have a heavenly parent who will be there for us no matter the challenges we face. So to the congregation that reads this blog let me end with saying, “Here I am, see what’s written…...”
Thursday, January 6, 2011
"Let It Be So"
For Sunday, January 9th, 2011
(Graphic is Baptism of Christ, a mid 12th century mosaic at the Cappella Palatina di Palermo in Palermo, Italy. Used under Creative Commons license. See http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=47779)
Lectionary Scripture – Matthew 3:13-17 NRSV
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" But Jesus answered him, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."
Lifting her up from beneath the water and then at the edge of the stream, my young friend turned and said, “Thank you for doing this for me.” As her pastor, those gracious sincere words touched me deeply and I could do little more at the moment than thank Christine for having me baptize her.
At different times in the intervening years since Christine’s baptism, I have wondered if it would ever be possible to have a congregation full of people with her kind of personal and spiritual authenticity. My guess is that such a thing will remain out of reach given the wounds and brokenness that so many of us carry around and carefully hide and disguise. Yet I hope that one day such a possibility will arrive. I think the principles, tools, and means exist to create such faith communities. For many existing communities however, God is kept small as I heard one theologian describe it recently. God is kept conveniently small so no one is ever uncomfortable and the ones who generally win in such situations are whining malicious egos. Their placation, rather than attending to the healing needed in their lives, remains forever the orders of the day.
What I remain hopeful for are the Christines in our world, i.e. basically anyone whose life has been through hell or is in hell and realizes that if things are going to get better, they have to ask God for help and a hand up. Baptism can be and has been for many that iconic moment to stay the course toward healing and well-being. I miss my friend, Christine, as today she lives on the other side of the world. I am however so pleased at the direction her life has taken as she has married, lives in Europe with her husband, Erik. She’s expecting and the couple awaits the arrival of their child due in April. Robert, who is Christine’s son from a previous relationship, eagerly awaits his new sibling and is learning Dutch. I wish all of them well but regret the loss of their presence, yet I was reminded recently not to lose hope for my dream of a truly healing faith community. The reminder was actually quite simple when Christine recently sent me a note via Facebook and said, “….you mean the world to me. Thank you for being there in some of my darkest times. I like it much better out here in the light.”
The lectionary focus on baptism, Christine’s message, her faith journey, and reflecting on her baptism cause me to think more carefully about this sacrament in the Christian tradition. More often than not in the past, I have thought of baptism as a ritual or a rite of passage. Other times, I have felt quite discouraged about it due to those ministers for whom a baptism is little more than their latest bragging right or the most recent notch on their evangelistic gun-belt. At other times, it serves as a statistic of primary interest to denominational authority figures. When I’m confronted however with the effects of baptism upon someone like Christine, I find myself enticed into very different space, a strangely familiar space.
The strangely familiar space hearkens back to my own baptism and confirmation at the age of eight in my home congregation at that time in Coalville, Iowa. To that point in my life, I don’t have much memory of feeling loved by God. On the occasion however of my baptism and confirmation, when elders in our church laid hands on my head to prayerfully induct me into church membership, I was completely unprepared for what followed. And what followed was a complete and overwhelming sense of being loved, basically an infusion of God’s Spirit I had never felt before which permeated my entire being. The warmth and calming influence of that experience coupled with the sense of belonging made this singular impression, “So this is what it’s all about it. Everyone should have this!” Maybe someday everyone will.
There are those who would consider the above experience as justification for why everyone needs to become Christian. I don’t see it that way. What I do see is that baptism is one of those iconic moments through which God touches our lives in very real and concrete ways. After all, the purpose and function of an icon is simply that it assists in bridging our human souls to the nurturance which only the divine and spiritual can bring into our lives. For lack of a better analogy at the moment, consider an icon to be the fork or the spoon we use to take nourishment into our bodies. And as we all know, such implements can be quite simple and utilitarian or incredibly ornate and artistic.
Iconic moments that bridge to the Divine will be different from one faith tradition to another, they will be different even from one adherent to another in the same tradition. In the late 1980s, a co-worker learned that I was soon to leave the mental health profession to go into full time ministry. She was curious as to why I would do that particularly in terms of the Christian faith for in her perception Christianity was the last place anybody should think of investing a career anymore.
When I asked why not, I heard about her faith journey from Christianity into Buddhism and how it was far more satisfying and far less judgmental. From the conversation, I also learned that she was soon to partake in an iconic moment of her own, i.e. enshrinement -- a rite/ritual which would complete her induction into her particular Buddhist tradition. Touched by her description of this sacred event, I mentioned that my new supervisor in the church was Buddhist-Christian. Surprised, she wondered how that could be, so I shared some aspects of the faith tradition I belong to.
At the close of our sharing, I said to my co-worker, “It is my belief that in the end, no matter what our faith may be, we’re all seeking the same thing and hoping to touch the same thing. In time, I think we humans will finally discover what that is and perhaps then there will be peace for everyone.”
My co-worker closed our conversation saying, “I wish my minister could have talked about Christianity the way you do. If he had, I doubt I would have ever left it.” Thinking back on that conversation now, the words above from Jesus come to mind, "Let it be so now -- for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness."
Lectionary Scripture – Matthew 3:13-17 NRSV
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" But Jesus answered him, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."
“Let It Be So”
Lifting her up from beneath the water and then at the edge of the stream, my young friend turned and said, “Thank you for doing this for me.” As her pastor, those gracious sincere words touched me deeply and I could do little more at the moment than thank Christine for having me baptize her.
At different times in the intervening years since Christine’s baptism, I have wondered if it would ever be possible to have a congregation full of people with her kind of personal and spiritual authenticity. My guess is that such a thing will remain out of reach given the wounds and brokenness that so many of us carry around and carefully hide and disguise. Yet I hope that one day such a possibility will arrive. I think the principles, tools, and means exist to create such faith communities. For many existing communities however, God is kept small as I heard one theologian describe it recently. God is kept conveniently small so no one is ever uncomfortable and the ones who generally win in such situations are whining malicious egos. Their placation, rather than attending to the healing needed in their lives, remains forever the orders of the day.
What I remain hopeful for are the Christines in our world, i.e. basically anyone whose life has been through hell or is in hell and realizes that if things are going to get better, they have to ask God for help and a hand up. Baptism can be and has been for many that iconic moment to stay the course toward healing and well-being. I miss my friend, Christine, as today she lives on the other side of the world. I am however so pleased at the direction her life has taken as she has married, lives in Europe with her husband, Erik. She’s expecting and the couple awaits the arrival of their child due in April. Robert, who is Christine’s son from a previous relationship, eagerly awaits his new sibling and is learning Dutch. I wish all of them well but regret the loss of their presence, yet I was reminded recently not to lose hope for my dream of a truly healing faith community. The reminder was actually quite simple when Christine recently sent me a note via Facebook and said, “….you mean the world to me. Thank you for being there in some of my darkest times. I like it much better out here in the light.”
The lectionary focus on baptism, Christine’s message, her faith journey, and reflecting on her baptism cause me to think more carefully about this sacrament in the Christian tradition. More often than not in the past, I have thought of baptism as a ritual or a rite of passage. Other times, I have felt quite discouraged about it due to those ministers for whom a baptism is little more than their latest bragging right or the most recent notch on their evangelistic gun-belt. At other times, it serves as a statistic of primary interest to denominational authority figures. When I’m confronted however with the effects of baptism upon someone like Christine, I find myself enticed into very different space, a strangely familiar space.
The strangely familiar space hearkens back to my own baptism and confirmation at the age of eight in my home congregation at that time in Coalville, Iowa. To that point in my life, I don’t have much memory of feeling loved by God. On the occasion however of my baptism and confirmation, when elders in our church laid hands on my head to prayerfully induct me into church membership, I was completely unprepared for what followed. And what followed was a complete and overwhelming sense of being loved, basically an infusion of God’s Spirit I had never felt before which permeated my entire being. The warmth and calming influence of that experience coupled with the sense of belonging made this singular impression, “So this is what it’s all about it. Everyone should have this!” Maybe someday everyone will.
There are those who would consider the above experience as justification for why everyone needs to become Christian. I don’t see it that way. What I do see is that baptism is one of those iconic moments through which God touches our lives in very real and concrete ways. After all, the purpose and function of an icon is simply that it assists in bridging our human souls to the nurturance which only the divine and spiritual can bring into our lives. For lack of a better analogy at the moment, consider an icon to be the fork or the spoon we use to take nourishment into our bodies. And as we all know, such implements can be quite simple and utilitarian or incredibly ornate and artistic.
Iconic moments that bridge to the Divine will be different from one faith tradition to another, they will be different even from one adherent to another in the same tradition. In the late 1980s, a co-worker learned that I was soon to leave the mental health profession to go into full time ministry. She was curious as to why I would do that particularly in terms of the Christian faith for in her perception Christianity was the last place anybody should think of investing a career anymore.
When I asked why not, I heard about her faith journey from Christianity into Buddhism and how it was far more satisfying and far less judgmental. From the conversation, I also learned that she was soon to partake in an iconic moment of her own, i.e. enshrinement -- a rite/ritual which would complete her induction into her particular Buddhist tradition. Touched by her description of this sacred event, I mentioned that my new supervisor in the church was Buddhist-Christian. Surprised, she wondered how that could be, so I shared some aspects of the faith tradition I belong to.
At the close of our sharing, I said to my co-worker, “It is my belief that in the end, no matter what our faith may be, we’re all seeking the same thing and hoping to touch the same thing. In time, I think we humans will finally discover what that is and perhaps then there will be peace for everyone.”
My co-worker closed our conversation saying, “I wish my minister could have talked about Christianity the way you do. If he had, I doubt I would have ever left it.” Thinking back on that conversation now, the words above from Jesus come to mind, "Let it be so now -- for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness."
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