Kindergarten!!!!

Last Wednesday, my little baby boy (who somehow magically turned from the crying infant we brought home from the hospital into a confident, smart 5 year-old overnight!) began kindergarten.

I can't believe it. I'm the father of a school-aged child. And I could not be any prouder of my little man.

For comparison and contrast, here's Kiddo on his first day of preschool, 2 years ago:













And his first day of kindergarten, last Wednesday:



















LH

Christ Between the Microphones

I've admitted before, and I'll once again admit: I'm a complete and utter church nerd. And proud of it.

So much so that for three days last week during the ELCA's Churchwide Assembly, I watched (or listened if I wasn't next to the computer) the live streaming video feed. Resolutions, motions, amendments, amended amendments, motions to amend amendments to resolutions, social statements, full communion agreements, motions to amend resolutions by changing their order...you name it, I was in full-glory church nerd extrordinaire mode.

There were some very difficult, very frank, and very emotional debates, most of which revolved around sex in one form or another. There were two main impressions that I came away with, at least during the sections I was listening in (which I have a feeling were some of the most contentious issues):

First, I was proud of my denomination, proud of the delegates, proud of my Churchwide Bishop, just proud of everyone involved at their upholding of the Eighth Commandment: You are not to bear false witness against your neighbor. More specifically, I was proud of how all sides in a very emotional debate lived into Luther's explanation of that commandment from his Small Catechism:

We are to fear and love God, so that we do not tell lies about our
neighbors, betray or slander them, or destroy their reputations. Instead we
are to come to their defense, speak well of them, and interpret everything
they do in the best possible light.

Now I'm not naive enough to think that we all succeeded perfectly, and honestly there were a couple of times (on both sides) where I found myself thinking "now was that really necessary?", but given the subjects at hand, and given the passionate views most delegates had on these subjects, I thought the way the "business of the church" was conducted was a witness to the world about how it could be and should be. Imagine what Washington D.C. would look like if our Senators and Representatives took to heart Luther's explanation of the 8th commandment. Imagine what the United States would look like if its citizens did the same when it came to contentious issues. Heck, think of what our church's individual congregations and synods would look like if we really took the 8th commandment seriously.

I think they would be shaped much more like a cross...because they had been shaped by the cross.

My second impression is really more of an extension, or an example, of the first. It was Friday, the day when the two main topics of debate were whether to allow same-sex blessings, and whether to allow rostered leaders in same-sex relationships to serve. It was tense...and intense.

During debate on these resolutions, delegates were invited to step up to microphones, and were allowed 2 minutes to speak. Speaking at a green microphone meant you were in favor of a resolution, and speaking at a red microphone meant you were against it. First a green speaker would say their piece, then a red speaker. And so it went--green, red, green, red, until finally someone would come to a mike to call the question.

Every 20 minutes, the presiding bishop would call a brief halt to the debate so that all could pray together.

One gentleman stepped up to a green mike, paused for a moment, and said in a shaky voice, "is anyone else here as nervous as I am?" There was empathetic laughter from the assembly, after which the man asked, "would somebody pray for me while I speak?"

Immediately, another man stepped to his side, laid a hand on his shoulder, and prayed.

It was the person who had been next in line at the red microphone.

I honestly don't remember what the man at the green microphone actually said--all I can remember is that picture of the church, a church in disagreement about Christ's will in some issues, but a church willing to earnestly pray for and with those with whom we disagree, to stand alongside them, to offer a hand of comfort and encouragement, to "come to their defense, speak well of them, and interpret everything they do in the best possible light."

It is my full and complete belief that Christ was present at the ELCA's Churchwide Assembly. He wasn't standing at the green microphones. He wasn't standing at the red microphones.

Christ was between the microphones.

As my online friend Sarcastic Lutheran pointed out, Christ wasn't between the microphones in a "I'm Switzerland, I'm neutral" kind of way. He was there in a "breaking down the walls that divide" kind of way. In a "giving yourself for the good of your neighbor" kind of way. In the kind of way where, as Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson said in his bishop's report, "we finally meet one another—not in our agreements or disagreements—but at the foot of the cross, where God is faithful, where Christ is present with us, and where, by the power of the Spirit, we are one in Christ."

The Economy of God - Sermon, Pentecost 4B

(btw...An alternate title for this post could have been "Has It Really Been Over Two Months Since I Last Posted Anything? I'm Quite The Sucky Blogger!")

Based on 2 Corinthians 8:7-15:

The Economy of God
June 28, 2009
Pentecost 4B

I spent this last week with our congregation’s soon-to-be eighth graders at Confirmation camp. It was a HOT week, but an incredible opportunity to reflect, learn together, and grow closer together as the body of Christ in a 317 acre outdoor sanctuary. Each morning, we had 2 ½ hours of Confirmation instruction time, then each afternoon and evening they had the chance to do so many of the traditional camp activities—boating, swimming, hiking, cookouts, that sort of thing. Waterfights were especially popular last week. Anyway, during our Confirmation time, we’d spend the first hour and a half discussing the five promises they will be affirming when they are confirmed (feel free to quiz them if you see them!), and the last hour or so of our time together was spent doing co-op activities. Co-op is a series of challenges that forces kids to think outside the box and work together as a team in order to accomplish something, and is a wonderful illustration of what it means to be the body of Christ on earth.

One of our co-op activities was called “Insanity.” The kids were divided into three teams, and three hula hoops were set on the ground forming a large triangle maybe 30 feet wide. In the middle of the triangle was placed a crate full of tennis balls. The object was to get all the tennis balls into one hula hoop, but there was a catch. You could only carry one ball at a time, and other teams were allowed to steal balls out of your hoop and bring them to theirs. The game started, and true to the name, insanity ensued. Kids were running back and forth, taking balls from the crate, taking balls from other hoops, yelling when balls were being taken from their hoop, over and over and over running back and forth like crazed chickens. The counselor let this go on for about ten minutes, as the campers ran themselves ragged trying to get the most balls in their hoop.

I have never seen a better picture of the way the world works. The economy of the world.

Those tennis balls…maybe they represent money. Or maybe they represent food. Power. Sex. Jobs. Security. Acceptance. Those things that we as individuals spend our lives clawing and scratching and running like crazed chickens trying to get, and spend the time that we’re not doing that trying to protect what we’ve gotten or worried that it’s going to be taken from us.

Remember the name of the game? It’s Insanity. And insanity is an apt description both of what happens at first in the game, and how the world teaches us we should live our lives.

So after about 10 minutes of watching this insanity, Scott, the counselor, told the kids to stop and return to their corners. He asked them if what they were trying was working. The answer of course was no. One team bragged that they had the most tennis balls so far, but they were reminded that the object was to get ALL the tennis balls into one hoop, and according to the rules of the game, they had failed just as much as the other two teams. Scott told them to think about the object of the game and try to figure out how they could accomplish it, because there WAS a way.

It took a while, but eventually, the campers discovered that if they put all the balls in one pile, then picked up all three hula hoops and placed them around the balls, not only could you win the game, but EVERYBODY could win the game.

The world teaches us the economy of insanity. What these campers discovered last week was the economy of God. The economy that teaches that we all have something to give for the good of others, that when we quit worrying about holding on to what’s mine, to what I’ve rightfully earned, to what’s coming to me…when I die to myself I gain the greatest treasure of all—living as the body of Christ. That’s cross-centered. That’s living as Christ did.

In our second lesson today, Paul was teaching the church in Corinth a little something about the economy of God. This church had begun a collection for the church in Jerusalem, which was quite poor. It seems things had started okay, but after some time had gone by they had quit supporting them. The Corinthians as a church body were pretty well-off financially, but they had gone lax in their support of another part of God’s body that was struggling financially.

In the world’s economy, you need to run for more tennis balls, while others try to take yours. In God’s economy, Paul reminds the Corinthians (and us) that we have the example of Christ, as he says in verse 9, “that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.”

Let me stop here for a moment. While Paul’s appeal certainly was about money, beginning here he turns this into MUCH more than just a plea for dollars. God’s economy may include how we approach money, but in stark contrast to the world’s economy, it’s certainly not all about money. In fact, money is just a small part of God’s economy as presented here by Paul. In a way, it would be easier if it were only about money. But as Paul said in Philippians, Christ did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.

In God’s economy, Christ emptied his entire being so that through him we might become, not financially rich, but holistically rich. Authentically rich. Rich in spirit, with those riches that moth and rust do not destroy. Luther had a term for God’s economy—he called it the “happy exchange.” Lutheran pastor and theologian Lisa Dahill explains it this way: "In this exchange, Luther said, Jesus on the cross takes on our poverty, receiving our uncleanness, bearing in his own body our need and our sin, and in exchange he pours out all his holiest, most precious divine gifts to us: his power flowing forth, his heart poured out, his love and mercy, his body and blood, his breath and Spirit and life. He becomes poor to make us rich; and we the impoverished, the weak, the unclean, the unworthy, the desperate – we receive all that is his and are beloved, washed, fed, cherished, and showered with riches. Even our most wretched sinfulness can’t separate us from him. He bears our sins in his own body; we are united with him and held in him in a love that doesn’t defile him but transforms us completely, making exiles and outcasts into daughters and sons."

And so we are called as well to participate in God’s economy along with the Corinthians in verses 13 and 14 of our second lesson. Paul says, “I do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you, but it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance.” In our own happy exchange, we have been blessed with gifts that others need. And others have been blessed with gifts that we need. And we as the church, we as the body of Christ, are called upon for the good of the world to empty ourselves, to become servants for each other, to use those gifts that we have been blessed with for others, all the while being blessed by others with those gifts that they have but we need.

We see a glimpse of that at work in our downtown ministry at The Table. That’s the whole philosophy behind what we do—bring what you have, give what you can, minister to others, and be ministered to through food and relationships. It’s really a very simple thing, but theologically it’s very profound. Some folks come able to share more than their fair share of money, but maybe they’re in need of something else. Some come with no money at all, but are able to bring gifts of listening, caring, love. Some come completely empty and leave filled…filled with food, and filled with the idea that there ARE people out there who want to know them as a person and who genuinely care about them through conversation.

God’s economy.

Shane Claiborne, in his book “The Irresistible Revolution,” described a conversation he had with a friend. He had asked his friend “if you could ask God one question, what would it be.” The friend hesitated. Shane could tell that he wanted to say something, but was unsure about it, so he pressed him. “Well,” the friend said, “I’d really like to ask God why there’s so much pain and hunger and suffering in the world…but I’m afraid God would turn around and ask me the same question.”

God’s economy asks why, in a world where there’s enough food for everyone, one in six of his children, over a billion people, go to bed hungry every night, according to a recent study by the World Health Organization.

God’s economy asks why one country with 6% of the world’s population uses 40% of the world’s resources.

God’s economy asks why millions of people die every year from completely preventable or easily curable diseases.

God’s economy asks why cheap clothes or coffee are more important than justice for those who work in unbearable conditions for little to no pay.

God’s economy asks why celebrity deaths are more important than those everyday people who are lonely, or struggling, or hurting.

God’s economy asks some hard questions, especially for those of us who in the eyes of the world are affluent.

We could debate all day on what the government’s role ought to be in the redistribution of resources. But there’s no question whatsoever as to what the church’s role ought to be. “As it is written,” Paul writes in verse 15, “The one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little.”

Again, this isn’t just about money. It isn’t just about material resources. Although it includes both of those things, we’re talking about so much more than that. It’s our whole selves. It’s a complete attitude of servanthood.

Back to camp. The camp’s theme this summer is “Love to serve.” Each day focuses on a different aspect: freed to serve, created to serve, saved to serve, called to serve, and sent to serve. God’s economy calls us to see our relationship to the world as one of service, always looking for those gifts we may have been given that the world needs. Is it money? Is it time? Is it our talents? Is it love? Compassion? Skills? What part do you have to play in the economy of God?

You do have gifts. You have been uniquely gifted by God. You have something that the world needs.

And we, together, as the body of Christ, working together in lives of service, sharing the good news of God in Christ through word and deed, are called to reject the insanity of the world and the way it values people and material goods as things to be grasped, not given. Let’s stop running around like crazed chickens and instead allow God to transform us into saved servants, participants in God’s economy of healing, wholeness, and life.

The economy of the world says your value is based on what you can accumulate. The economy of God says your value is found in being a child of God.

The economy of the world says you are an owner, and need to hold on to what you have earned for yourself. The economy of God says you are a steward, and the gifts you have been given are for the sake of others.

The economy of the world says self-sacrificial giving for the sake of the world is insanity. The economy of God calls it the way of the cross.

The economy of the world says you need to get what’s coming to you. The economy of God says you get precisely what you don’t deserve and could never earn: love, forgiveness, salvation, and eternal life.

Thanks be to God!

Amen.

LH

Kiddo says the 10 Commandments

With the Apostles' Creed under his belt, Kiddo decided he wanted to tackle memorizing the 10 Commandments next. When we started, I did a little bit of re-writing from the traditional wording to make it a little more understandable for a 5 year old. I tried to stay faithful to the original meaning, and while he had some clarifying questions at first about some of the wording (for example, I had to explain that "faithful" in the context of the 6th Commandment meant that husbands and wives loved and supported each other, and didn't do things that would hurt each other), I think he grasped the meaning of what he was learning. Here he is:



For the record, here's the list:

The 10 Commandments (traditional wording in italics, 5 year old paraphrase in bold)

1. You shall have no other gods before me.
Nothing should be more important than God.

2. Do not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.
Don't use God's name in bad ways.

3. Remember the Sabbath, to keep it holy.
Take a day each week to remember and worship God.

4. Honor your father and mother.
Honor your father and mother.

5. Do not kill.
Do not kill.

6. Do not commit adultery.
Husbands and wives should be faithful to each other.

7. Do not steal.
Do not steal.

8. Do not bear false witness against your neighbor.
Do not lie about other people.

9. Do not covet your neighbor's house.
Do not try to take your neighbor's house from them.

10. Do not covet your neighbor's wife, or cattle, or male or female slave, or ox or donkey, or anything else that belongs to your neighbor.
Do not try to take anything else that belongs to your neighbor.

LH

Ever had one of "those" days?

Before Easter, I was doing a Google Image search for "regret" as part of a worship PowerPoint presentation I was preparing. This didn't make it into the PowerPoint, but I did bookmark it because it was just too good:

LH

Christian Rock Star Kiddo

Last summer, Kiddo took part in our church's Vacation Bible School. He loved all of it, but the music especially made a big impact. Each child received a CD of the music they sang that week, and he pulls that CD out whenever anyone comes to visit so he can put on a show.

He LOVES that music.

So a few weeks ago, he felt like rockin' out in the living room. He grabbed a play microphone, cranked up the VBS CD on the stereo, and just started jumping and dancing and yelling out song after song for Sweetie, myself, and the tens of thousands of imaginary fans that suddenly filled our house. After the second or third song, he became the announcer as well as the rock star, and shouted in his best "rock" voice:

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...IT'S THE MONSTERS OF JESUS!!!!"

He then launched into his next song, but I'll admit I couldn't hear a note because I was laughing too hard.

It's tough trying to be a rock star when your parents think you're so freakin' cute.

LH

The Tiny Pellet of Concentrated Evil

So a couple of mornings ago, I walked into Pumpkin's room, only to be greeted by a wall of stench. The "extremely ripe overnight diaper" smell. Holding her at arm's length, I carried her over to the changing table and removed the offending diaper, ready for the gigantic poop that surely awaited me inside.

I kid you not, the poop was no bigger than a small marble.

By the time I had finished the diaper change, the smell had permeated our entire upstairs level. It was everywhere.

All from one of the tiniest poopies I have ever seen in a diaper.

It shall go down in LutheranHusker history as The Tiny Pellet of Concentrated Evil.

LH

Sermon For 2/22/09 Transfiguration Sunday: Love's True Form

Mark 9:2-9 (NRSV):

2Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.
9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.


Ever since Kiddo has been able (in theory at least) to sleep through the night, it has been my job when either of the kids do wake up at night to go to their room and comfort them. The reason for this is more utilitarian than it is chivalrous—I am a much lighter sleeper than Sweetie. When one of the kids makes noise, I’m going to wake up either way, so it makes more sense for only one person to wake up than both of us. So we’ve got the baby monitor on my side of the bed, and I keep it at a level where it will wake me up but usually not Sweetie.

The spring after Kiddo turned two, he had been waking up with night terrors. It was completely normal for his age, but when you are woken up at 3 in the morning by the most inhuman and inconsolable screaming, it can be a bit disconcerting, to say the least. When it first started, we got him a nightlight, and made a really big deal about how he has a “special light” in his room so he can see that there’s nothing to be afraid of. After that, when the night terrors came, I’d go into his room, sit down next to his bed, rub his back and help settle him down. Then we’d talk about his special light and how he doesn’t have to be scared. I’d ask him, “Does mommy have a special light?”

“No.”

“Does daddy have a special light?”

“No, only me.”

“That’s right, only you have a special light. So you don’t have to be scared.” (Don’t ask me why that made sense, but for some reason it was a big comfort to his 2 year old mind.)

Then, usually, he’d be comforted enough to lie back down and go to sleep.

After he had had the nightlight for a couple of weeks, I was pretty proud of how well our discussions about the nightlight were working in helping him go back to sleep. So one night, I decided to take the discussion one step further. We went through our usual litany, and then I asked him another question, to see how well he understood what we were talking about: “so why don't you have to be scared?”

His answer surprised me.

“Because Daddy comes.”

The "theology" or even the light behind the nightlight meant nothing to him. What mattered was that in the middle of the night, Daddy comes. To his two year-old mind, Daddy doesn’t come because he ate his dinner or because he put away his toys or because he went poopy in the potty—Daddy just comes. When he is so terrified that all he can do is cry out, he knows that Daddy comes.

That, I think, is a good introduction to our Transfiguration gospel lesson.

What stands out when we read today’s gospel? It’s the light. The blinding light, Jesus’ robes shining white as snow, the glory and splendor of the King of the World suddenly walking around with Moses, bringer of the law, and Elijah, the great prophet…the one for whom a place is always saved at Passover, the one whose reappearance is said to mean that the Messiah can’t be far behind. And the voice of God, reminding Peter James and John of who Jesus is—“this is my son, the beloved,” –and following with a command, “listen to him!”

Powerful stuff. Powerful story.

But my friends in Christ, if that’s where our focus is, I think we end up missing the point.

If we take this literal mountaintop experience and leave it merely as an example of Christ’s power and glory, then all we’ve done is the same thing poor Peter did. “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here;” he said. “Let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” By the way, did you catch the author of Mark’s little editorial comment after that? It’s almost as though he felt he ought to apologize for Peter. Verse 6 reads, “He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.” It’s like he was saying, “yeah, Peter’s idea was dumb, but let’s not be too hard on the guy. He was terrified, and just didn’t know what to say!”

At any rate, if all we see this experience as is a demonstration of divine power and glory, then we’re essentially making these nice little dwelling-places, these little boxes for the story to fit in. Jesus’ transfiguration did not happen merely to allow these three disciples to say “wow! What an amazing trick! That was great! Surely, you MUST be the Son of God.” Just like the miracles Jesus performed weren’t simply divine parlor tricks so that those around him would say “wow! What an amazing trick! Surely you MUST be the Son of God.” N.T. Wright said in his book “Simply Christian” that God doesn’t send the Holy Spirit to give Christians the spiritual equivalent of a day at Disneyland. I’d argue that The Transfiguration event falls much into the same category. There’s more to it than just an amazing light show.

There are three ideas around Jesus’ transfiguration that I want to look at today.

1. Jesus’ transfiguration reminds us that God has come to us.
2. Jesus’ transfiguration was a “foretaste of the feast to come.”
3. Jesus’ transfiguration calls us to participate in building for the Kingdom of God.

First, Jesus’ transfiguration reminds us that God has come to us. Think back to the story of Kiddo and the nightlight. There were two very important things that needed to happen for Tyler to be comforted. First, someone had to come to him. It would have done him no good whatsoever if I had heard him crying over the monitor, turned the volume down, then rolled over and gone back to sleep. He needed me THERE. With him. Second, not just anyone could have done the trick. If some stranger had walked into his room and tried to tell him everything was going to be okay, chances are it would have just made things worse. He needed his mommy or daddy. It needed to be us. We’re the ones he looked to for protection, for guidance, for help and comfort.

So what does that have to do with the Transfiguration? It reminds us that this Jesus person isn’t just some guy off the street who could do amazing things. This was God. This was God in human form, come down to us. Peter, James and John were given a glimpse of Jesus’ divinity. Yes, he was their Rabbi. Yes, he was the carpenter’s son from Nazareth. But as the voice from the heavens reminded them, this was also the very Son of God, the messiah, the one sent to reconcile all of creation. As a favorite hymn of mine goes, God isn’t in some heaven, light years away. God came to us in the person of Jesus, and God comes to us today. The same God who created the universe, who created the earth and stars and all creatures and everything that ever was or is or will be—that same God came to earth.

The light of the Transfiguration, while dazzling, wasn’t the point of the event. Just as Kiddo wasn’t comforted by the nightlight, but rather by the presence of one of his parents, so too the light of the Transfiguration points to Jesus as our Emmanuel—our “God With Us.” The one who has come to us in the darkness of our sin, our pain, and our brokenness, and who has begun the process of making all things new through his death and resurrection.

I’m reminded of the final scene from the movie Shrek. In case you haven’t seen the movie, Shrek is the story of an ogre, a big, green, fat, belching, crude creature, who rescues the Princess Fiona, who looks a lot like Cameron Diaz animated digitally and given red hair. Princess Fiona is under a curse; “By day one thing, by night another, until true love’s kiss restores love’s true form.” Every night, she becomes an ogre, every bit as green and fat as Shrek. Every day, she becomes Cameron Diaz with red hair again, and the cycle will repeat until she finally experiences true love and takes love’s true form. At the end of the movie, Shrek finally sees Fiona’s ogre persona (she had been hiding it from him) for the first time. But he loves her and kisses her anyway. Watch what happens in the clip.

(NOTE: Here I showed the Shrek "transfiguration" scene at the end of the movie--I tried to find it on Youtube to post here, but didn't see anything online. Sorry!) =)

The makers of the movie do a skillful job of guiding our expectations. After all the light and glory, we expect to see the Cameron Diaz lookalike there. But what is love’s true form? The princess wants to be like the one she loves. She takes on HIS form.

Philippians 2:5-8 reads, “5Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, 6who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.” Christ emptied himself, was born as a human, and came not to be served, but to serve. Love’s true form shows its face by giving for the good of others, and God demonstrated love’s true form to us by coming TO us through Jesus.

Jesus comes to you.

And Jesus comes FOR you.

Which brings me to my second thought, that Jesus’ transfiguration was a foretaste of the feast to come. Do those words sound familiar? They’re part of the communion liturgy. When we participate in Holy Communion, we proclaim that we are receiving a foretaste of the feast to come. So what does that mean? We believe that Jesus is truly present in, with, and under the bread and the wine. The bread and the wine don’t change form…they remain what they are, but when we eat and drink, we experience in a very real way the presence of Christ in our lives. Holy Communion becomes, in the words of N.T. Wright, an intersection of heaven and earth. It’s a place and a time where a little piece of the Kingdom of God breaks into our everyday world, and it transforms us. It changes us. It transfigures us. Christ comes TO us, right where we are, and right AS we are.

And so we see the transfiguration of Jesus, as an intersection of heaven and earth. We receive, in the very human form of Jesus, a glimpse of the glory of the divine. And if the point wasn’t made strongly enough, God tells us “this is my son, the beloved.” There is to be no doubt as to whom Jesus is. And perhaps, for those of us who proclaim our belief in “the resurrection of the body” in the Apostles Creed, we see something of what that might look like. As Christ comes to us through the bread and wine and transfigures us through his presence, giving us a glimpse of the glory that awaits us in an eternity spent with the God who loves us, so too the disciples are given that same sort of glimpse on the mountain.

My third thought is that Jesus’ transfiguration calls us to participate in building for the Kingdom of God. And this is where the real meat for our daily lives is. We’ve seen that God comes to us, that God gives us this intersection of heaven and earth, but what difference does that make? What does it look like when God comes, when heaven and earth intersect?

The answers to that come directly before, and directly after, our gospel lesson. Mark 8:34 reads, “34He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” I think it’s no accident that Jesus goes from “take up your cross” to the Transfiguration in the very next few verses. Remember--the transfiguration is a reminder that God has come to us through Jesus, and is a foretaste of the Kingdom of God. So what does it look like when God comes to us, what does the kingdom of God look like?

It’s cross-shaped.

It looks like self-giving love for the sake of the world.

It looks like what happens immediately when Jesus goes back down the mountain. He re-enters the brokenness of humanity. He’s immediately met by the sick and demon-possessed, and he goes right back to the work of building for the kingdom of God. He goes about the work of healing, of making whole, of restoring relationships, of taking away division, and brokenness, pain and suffering.

In other words, he goes about doing the work of the church. He gives of himself for the good of creation.

And later, on a very real cross, he doesn’t give OF himself. He gives himself.

Through the Transfiguration, we too are called to that same work. We’re called to be peacemakers, to feed the poor, clothe the naked, visit those in prison, heal the sick. N.T. Wright puts it this way in his book Surprised By Hope: "The resurrection of Jesus and the gift of the Spirit mean that we are called to bring real and effective signs of God's renewed creation to birth even in the midst of the present age." God’s at work making all things new, work that began at the cross and in the empty Easter tomb, and our call is to be a part of that.

We like to speak of mountaintop experiences, of those times in our lives that are life-changing, the highest of the high points. But be careful—mountaintop experiences change you. Are you sure you want to go up the mountain with Jesus? Your transfiguration doesn’t end when you come back down. It’s not easy having your life changed. Often, it means you feel a need to live differently than you did before. It means you see things in a different light than you did before. It may mean sensing a call from God that takes you out of a place of comfort and security, and leads you to places you never dreamed you’d go. It means that like Jesus, you become willing to enter the pain and brokenness of creation, bringing with you the promise of life and hope and restoration. That kind of change in our lives can be difficult, and scary.

But it’s oh so exciting. And it’s the very definition of what it means to live in grace. During confirmation a couple of weeks ago, Pastoral Intern Ben made a point that’s stuck with me. He said, “we’re not saved BY service, but we’re saved FOR service.” We’re not saved BY what we do when we go back down the mountain, but Christ comes to us in all his power and glory to enable, empower, and inspire us to serve others.

We spend today on the mountaintop. But like Jesus, James, John, and Peter, we can’t stay there. In fact, on Wednesday, our church calendar does exactly what Jesus does, leaves the mountain, and descends to the valley of Ash Wednesday and Lent, where we begin the journey toward the cross, the journey through our own sin and brokenness, the journey that Christ made for us and that he calls each of us to make for the sake of the world. “Take up your cross and follow.” Give of yourselves. Bring hope to the hopeless, healing to the suffering, food to the hungry, and the promise of new life to a world gripped by the fear of death.

That, my friends, is kingdom-building in its most basic and Biblical sense.

So, for the sake of our Confirmation students trying to do sermon notes, let’s summarize:

1. Jesus’ transfiguration reminds us that God has come to us.
2. Jesus’ transfiguration was a “foretaste of the feast to come.”
3. Jesus’ transfiguration calls us to participate in building for the Kingdom of God.

May you experience, through the power and the glory of the transfiguration, your own transfiguration. May you experience in a very real way Christ’s coming to you, and for you. May you participate in this foretaste of the feast to come. And may you hear and heed the call to participate in building for the Kingdom of God.

What's Opera, Doc?

Thanks to a lunchtime conversation, I haven't been able to get this cartoon out of my head.

Best cartoon ever, and many a child's introduction to Wagner's Die Walkure, The Flying Dutchman, and Tannhauser.

Man how I wish the Bugs Bunny Road Runner Show was still on Saturdays. Kids these days just don't know what they're missing.

Did that just make me sound old? =)



LH

"The Community of Saints..."

The last few weeks, Kiddo and I have been working on learning the Apostles Creed--it's become part of his bedtime routine. Last night, he asked if I could record him saying it.

Of course, proud dad that I am, I was more than willing to oblige. =)

I realize he doesn't understand more than a few words of what he's saying--but just like when he was learning the Lord's Prayer, the comprehension can come later. For now, I'm happy to take advantage of the fact that his brain is a big ol' memorizing sponge. Funny thing--near the end of the creed, instead of proclaiming his belief in the communion of saints, he professes belief in the community of saints.

I'm not gonna correct him. True community is what that line of the creed is referring to anyway.

The video's a little dark...sorry about that. Here goes:


LH