"Be Not Afraid"

What follows is the sermon I offered tonight at a Vespers Service at Arbor Terrace-Decatur.  I thought there might be a few folks out there who would gain something from this -- I gained from the writing of it...

"Be Not Afraid"

Sermon for Arbor Terrace – Decatur

Vespers: August 25, 2013

Isaiah 41:8-10

But you, Israel, my servant,

            Jacob, whom I have chosen,
            the offspring of Abraham, my friend;
You whom I took from the ends of the earth,
            and called from its farthest corners,
saying to you, "You are my servant,
            I have chosen you and not cast you off";
do not fear, for I am with you,
            do not be afraid, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
            I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.

Lamentations 3:55-58

I called on your name, O Lord,

            from the depths of the pit;
you heard my plea, "Do not close your ear
            to my cry for help, but give me relief!"
You came near when I called on you;
            you said, "Do not fear!"
You have taken up my cause, O Lord,
            you have redeemed my life.

Romans 8:12-17

 ¹²So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh—¹³for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. ¹⁴For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. ¹⁵For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption.  When we cry, "Abba! Father!" ¹⁶it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, ¹⁷and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

             Depending on whether you watch the news or not, you may have heard of Antoinette Tuff.  Ms. Tuff is the school bookkeeper at Ronald E. McNair Discovery Learning Academy in Decatur.  This past Tuesday afternoon, Ms. Tuff stepped beyond her fear and into her reliance on God's promises.  This past Tuesday afternoon, Ms. Tuff shared her faith, her story, her courage with a young man determined to kill.

            Normally, Antoinette Tuff does not sit where she was sitting that afternoon.  She was relieving the School Secretary. Ms. Tuff came face to face with the young man who had managed to come into the School with the intent of killing adults and children – over 800 individuals.  Ms. Tuff admits that the first thing she did was begin praying for him. 

            In an interview with Channel Two News, Ms. Tuff shares that she remembered her pastor teaching the congregation about "anchoring in the Lord" when listening and talking with anyone in a crisis.  So, that's exactly what Antoinette Tuff did.  She began by praying for him and herself and for the students and teachers in that building and for the police outside.  She encouraged the young man to talk about what he was thinking, about why he was thinking it.  By listening, she opened a door to salvation for him – and for the all of the children and teachers in that building.

            In her conversation with this young man, Antoinette Tuff reflected on her own losses and difficulties.  In doing so, she allowed her life, her authenticity to inform her compassion in this frightful, fearful situation. 

            At one point, in response to the young man saying that he didn't have anyone who loved him, Ms. Tuff assured him that even as she did not "know" him, she did, indeed, love him.  Antoinette Tuff expressed Christ's love to this hurting, broken young man.  In doing so, he was able to begin believing that the situation could change, that the outcome could be something different than what he had believed when he arrived. 

            In her own words, Ms. Tuff shared that it "wasn't nobody but God;" that "through His grace and mercy" she kept it together.  Because of Antoinette Tuff's ability to call upon her faith, upon God's grace and mercy, to keep it together, in her position as front line defense, over 800 children and adults were kept from harm and a young man – broken and fearful --  was kept from a sure death. 

            Be not afraid.

            In our text from Isaiah, Yahweh is now speaking comfort and reassurance to the exiles – after 150 years of fearful, distraught silence and degradation!  Yahweh reminds them that He has chosen them and has not cast them off.   Yahweh makes several powerful promises:

            Do not fear – I am with you.

            Do not be afraid – I am your God.
            I will strengthen you.
            I will help you.
            I will uphold you.

One of my favorite hymns is Standing on the Promises, especially the second and last verses:

2.

Standing on the promises that cannot fail,
When the howling storms of doubt and fear assail,
By the living Word of God I shall prevail,
Standing on the promises of God.

Refrain:
Standing, standing,
Standing on the promises of God my Savior;
Standing, standing,
I’m standing on the promises of God.

5.

Standing on the promises I cannot fall,
List’ning every moment to the Spirit’s call,
Resting in my Savior as my all in all,
Standing on the promises of God.

            This is what Antoinette Tuff did.  She stood upon the promises of God.  God was there.  Where in our lives are we truly, remarkably standing upon the promises of God?  Each and every day there are occasions to see this, to experience the strength, the hope, the promises of God.  We have to stay alert.  We have to "listen every moment to the Spirit's call."

            The circumstances of the Spirit's call in each of our lives most likely will never be as dramatic and newsworthy as Ms. Tuff's.  However, those circumstances will most likely be as spiritually significant to us and to those we encounter as what happened in the School Front Office.  A testimony, a listening heart, a wounded soul -- how often do we encounter and offer that combination?

            Do not fear, for I am with you.

            Lamentations is a hymn-book for the Israelites.  Our text comes straight from a version of "Standing on the Promises" you might say. 

⁵⁵I called on your name, O Lord,

            from the depths of the pit;
⁵⁶you heard my plea, "Do not close your ear
            to my cry for help, but give me relief!"
⁵⁷You came near when I called on you;
            you said, "Do not fear!"
⁵⁸You have taken up my cause, O Lord,
            you have redeemed my life.

            When we are in our fearful places, do we call upon God's name? When we hear the Spirit's call and we are in a crisis, do we trust that God is listening?

            Antoinette Tuff trusted, she had faith that God was in that room; she had faith that God was listening, and that God would give her the words to share with this young man.  "⁵⁸You have taken up my cause, O Lord, you have redeemed my life."

            In our most worrisome, frightened moments, we can trust, we can have faith that God is present, that God hears our cries, that God will take up our cause, that God will redeem our lives.

            How?  How do we know that?  How can we have that trust, that faith?

            We do this, we know this because through Christ, we are alive.  Through Christ, we have received a spirit of adoption – not a spirit of slavery, of fear.  As Paul said to the Romans, "^15bWhen we cry 'Abba! Father!,' ¹⁶it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, ¹⁷and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ…"

            He is ours and we are His.  Through this new relationship, this new covenant, we are promised that we are never alone, that we are working toward the inbreaking of a glorious world – one of love and compassion and understanding, full of grace and mercy.

            Where in your life will you pray, listen, share, and be the living Word of God for someone who is in need of God's grace and mercy?

            In the words of Antoinette Tuff, there "wasn't nobody but God;" that "through His grace and mercy" she kept it together.

            We are not alone.  God is with us.

            Be not afraid!

Struggling with Self

Experiencing a time of struggling with what I want to do versus what God apparently wants me to do leaves me pulled in two directions.  The whole experience is very disruptive to any sustained spiritual peace.  Yet, spiritual peace is overrated actually.  In my experience, I have grown more deeply and well during times of wrestling, times of disruption -- as uncomfortable as those times are. 

This experience leads me to consider my time sitting with God.  From all accounts, God seems to be asking me for some uninterrupted time with my soul.  I'm considering how best to manage my time so that God gets that uninterrupted time and I don't lose too much sleep.  Of course, perhaps that is part of the cost of admission to God's uninterrupted time.

I ponder the religious vocationals.  The offices have them up at 2am and again at 4am and on it goes.  The Rule of Benedict structures our lives around prayer; yet balances the way our relationship with God is viewed.  Whether one's activity is one's work, one's leisure, or one's prayer -- all is done with glory for God. 

So, how might I better structure my time, balanced and with glory for God, so that my peace is productive?  Perhaps during my uninterrupted time that God seems to be arranging, God will reveal some ideas!

More later...

Time to Sit with God

While sitting with my spiritual friend this afternoon, he said that he felt it was time for me to sit with God for a while.  You see, I find myself at a confluence of thought, emotion, spiritual questing, and physical tiredness.

A confluence is a meeting of two or more flowing water sources -- at least in my experience that's what it is.  My use of that word is very deliberate.  In my experience of my own thought processes, the way my emotions work, the spiritual journey I've been on, and the way my body responds to stress, it's all flowing.  I have been learning to go with the flow of my life rather than pushing the river.  So, you can tell, I'm all over the water metaphors!

The undercurrents of a confluence can be very strong, confusing -- misdirecting -- exhausting.  I've been struggling with having a divided heart and mind about my relationship with God and how I accomplish God's work given to me in the world.  Apparently, it is time for me to sit with God.

Now, when I sit with God, when my mind and heart and soul are full, I don't converse with God.  I simply sit and listen.  Admittedly, I do begin my time sitting with a prayer of thanksgiving, of submission, of opening my heart to hear.  Then...I listen.

It's amazing what I hear.  The simplest things become rich, music-like.  The rustling of tree leaves, the honk of a goose, the crunch on pavement of someone walking, the smell of whatever is in the air at a given moment, the feel of the chair, bench, ground that I'm sitting on -- all of these sensory experiences wrap me and invite me to drop deeper into an experience of God's presence than I normally allow. 

That's when the silence envelopes me.  A silence that is thick and sweet.  A silence that is permeated by love, pure love, indescribable in its acceptance and unconditional essence.  The love of the universe.  In this spot, I hear, I receive -- what I can seldom verbalize, yet when I return to the world, things are clearer, struggling is gone, acceptance and submission are possible and a joy, a sublime joy permeates my heart and my spirit.  Answers to my questions may or may not be present, may or may not have risen to the top of my consciousness, but joy is there.

Gratitude.  Grace.  Amen and Amen.

The next bit...

I've recently found out that I have a very curable sort of skin cancer, in one very small place.  Yet, the mere mentioning of the word cancer has sent me in a spiral of considerations. 

There have been other, more serious surgeries in my past; however, none have contained THAT word.  There is something singularly frightening about cancer.  We hear so many sad and horrible stories.  Yet, there are also survivor stories that are uplifting, inspiring! 

This short side-journey of mine has been illuminating to me as to how my mind works -- how my faith works.  When I initially heard the diagnosis and proprosed treatment, I panicked.  On the inside, of course, not letting it show until I got back home.  Then I sort of fell apart.  I was depressed, worried, confused, and totally didn't know what I was doing!

An important thing to know is how fortunate I am to be married to a man who is steady -- very steady.  As soon as we saw each other, his steady button got punched (rather hard), and he did his thing.  Reassurance, a hug, confident words.  I knew then, and I really always know, that as long as I have him in my life, I will be just fine.

Now, the faith part revolves around what happened next.  After my husband managed to talk me off the precipice of fear I was determined to climb, I realized something.  First of all that God was surrounding me, as usual; that my husband had helped me to calm down enough to realize the Presence was still there. 

Then, I felt my need to have prayers said for me and knew this was another opportunity to share my "stuff" with a new community of faith.  I teetered on a weird edge of being sad because I didn't have my old community of faith to share it with and knowing that I have a new community of faith waiting for me to give them something of mine to pray about.  Now, first of all, I know that I could have called up the prayer person at my previous community of faith and they would have been happy to pray for me; but I didn't want to!  (Just a tinge of toddler-ness in this attitude!)

So, I sent off my email to the prayer ministry coordinator for my new community of faith and almost immediately received  a response that they would be praying for me; I also received another email from one of the ministers letting me know that she was praying for me.

This journey from one place to the next; from home to a new apartment -- has been a journey of bits and pieces.  A journey of realizations; of sharing; of building trust; of letting go; of connecting with.  Initially, I was a bit worried about the transition; yet, I must admit that the transition has been one enabled by a lot of love and care and patience and curiousity.

I tend to think that if most of our journeys could be suffused with the attitudes of love, care, patience, and curiousity, those journeys would be much more enjoyable and enlightening.  We'll see how this journey of mine continues!

My Lament for Wesley

Why?!  Why is the question on a lot of our hearts right now as we are reeling from the news.  Our friend and fellow-dancer Wesley Brown was shot and killed Saturday night.  It was stupid.  It was senseless.

Why?!  Our hearts are broken.  We are holding Kelly and Madeline close in our hearts, wishing for time to see them and hug them and be with them.

Why?!  Earlier this summer I wrote an article on the work of grieving; on the necessity of allowing that work to occur in us.  It is essential that we allow grief to wash over us when it comes and simply be with it.  Grief and grieving are cleansing and educational.  Mostly, grieving—especially at this point—is simply there, not to be ignored or set aside.

As an aspect of our grieving, we can allow our faith to spill over into doubt, into questioning.  Without doubt, we never get around to asking the difficult questions of God, of ourselves. 

Why?!  I find myself asking that age-old question of God: "Why, God, did you allow this to happen?  Why?!"

While in the grip of doubt, letting our anger out is cleansing.  There are safe ways of doing so, such as  journaling, praying, swinging a wiffle bat against a pillow or a sofa.  Even screaming at God!  God can take it.  I know I am angry with, of all things, Wesley's employers.  I'm angry that he had to work instead of come to Cumberland—where he would have been instead of in that store Saturday night!  I'm angry that a gang decided to retaliate in an outbreak of violence which spilled over and ended Wesley's life.

Grief and anger exist together in a tangled mess so many times.  This tangled mess could very well be the reason this "senseless" violence broke out to begin with—what were the members of this gang grieving? 

 And, yes, I am angry with God.  Very angry.  My private conversations with God over the last 48 hours have been filled with angry tears and demands to know, to understand.

Yet, as I have moved with my grief, the question has shifted.  Shifted to how.

How, God, am I to be with this?  I have faith that Wesley is in a better place right now, is resting and healing in the light of God.  Yet, his family – a young daughter and his beloved wife – are HERE without him.

How can I be of comfort and support to his family?

This is a healthy movement our souls can take in response to our grief.  Yet, even this healthy movement does not resolve the deep sadness and the ache of loss in my heart.  Only time will do so.

May the grace of God go with Wesley's family and friends through the coming days and weeks.

Grace does abound.

Life Lived in Lectio

Lectio Divina...divine reading...reading in a way that pays attention to divine presence...listening to what radiates in one's heart and soul...imagine living your every day life in such a way.  Being aware.  Being awake.  Knowing God is present.

For me, that's why there are certain spiritual practices I love.  I love praying the daily offices; I love reading scripture (and lots of other texts) in lectio; I crave prayer time; I love to pause and listen.  I get filled with joy when I realize that I've most likely heard something "right."  I get filled with Spirit's happiness when I go and be and do what God has asked of me.

Discernment is a daily exercise because we are never done. Our journeys are one day of discernment followed by another.  Each day, we be and do the best we can in response to our experience of God's guidance.  Today I heard a sermon on the feeling of the "next thing."  I left that service all aglow...I had had a lectio moment.  Actually, I had experienced several lectio moments.  Several phrases had radiated for me -- "Here I am Lord,"  "restore the joy," "the next thing," "Amazing Grace," "clean slate," "broken and poured out for me" -- WOW!

This morning as I was preparing myself for worshipping with a new and different community of faith, I had drawn three prayer words from my stash.  They were "patience," "joy," and "mercy."  As I have been reflecting on my worship experience, those words have come back to me.  Patience with whom or what?  My children?  The "process"?  Joy...yeah...JOY!  Mercy.  Mercy is another hard one.  Mercy with others in my life who will have a difficult transition as we find a new faith community--including those we leave behind as well as those we join?  Mercy.  That's a word that's packed with meaning, one that I will be praying on and living with over the next few days. 

I have faith that the coming days will be filled with moments of insight and clarity and understanding; I also accept that the coming days will most likely have moments of doubt, fear, regret...and...perhaps, Mercy.

A life lived in lectio is a life filled with grace and gratitude, tears and joy, doubt and wonder.  A life lived in lectio is a life lived listening.

Mystic Happenings

There are times in all of our lives when we feel closer to God.  I have found that when I am in deep contemplation of questions I feel much closer to God.  Through this blog, I have shared my personal images of wrestling with God in a pool of grace; of sitting with God across the dining room table; of having God envelop me with peace and warmth as only God can do.  When I experience God in these ways, I experience physical responses. 

Recently, I decided to take myself on a retreat to the Monastery of Our Lady of the Holy Spirit in Conyers, Georgia.  I love the Monastery and have been "retreating" there for nigh on 30 years.  I am now and was raised as a child in the Protestant tradition; yet, as a teen I dreamed of being a nun.  I was drawn to and appreciative of the beautiful rigor of their cloistered life. 

I have partaken of the writings of the early Church's mystics and have found them to be gently intriquing, oddly familiar.  What I have found is that I hear a lot of my own experiences reflected in the writings I have explored.

This past week when I was at the Monastery, I was seeking God's word for me in regard to my call, my vocation and my future.  There is an installation of the Stations of the Cross along a trail close to the lake.  I decided to approach the Stations with the mindset of lectio divina, reading the prayers and reflections at each Station paying attention to what radiated or stood out for me.  Over the next forty-five minutes, I traveled the Stations, hearing a word about trust and reliance again and again.  Then, at the thirteenth or fourteenth Station, as I was reading a reflection on the nailing of Jesus to the Cross, a question was posed about the nail in the left hand: "Was the nail in the left hand for those consecrated yet living a lukewarm life?" 

The Word received was overwhelming.  I needed time and space to process what I felt God was trying to tell me.  I walked on to the Chapel and sat in the cool quiet waiting for noon prayers only to find myself unable to stay, unable to sit still.  So, I got up and began walking again, heading toward the Refrectory.  Now, I see that I was unable to sit through the quiet of noon prayers because I did not want to hear what God had to say; I was unprepared to lift up to God what I was thinking and feeling; I was "running away."

As I was walking toward the Refrectory, the bells began to ring for prayers.  With the first tones, my feet became rooted to the sidewalk.  I was unable to move.  The bell's tones filled me and traveled through my body, stirring my emotions, emptying my mind of words...out came single, powerful words offering up my doubt, fear, sorrow, questions, confession...they kept coming as each tone rang out.  Only as the last tone faded away was I able to move once again.  I was stunned.  The point was well taken.  Running away was not to be allowed; I was there to retreat and spend time with God.

Since my visit, I have had plenty of time to reflect on the Word I was given and how it might apply to my life, my call.  Fortunately, I have a number of spiritual friends with whom I have shared my experiences and who have helped me by asking clarifying questions.  Questions like do I consider myself as living a "lukewarm" life?  How committed and enthusiastic have I been lately?  Do I trust and rely on God to provide for me and my family?  If I see myself as having clenched hands, grasping so tightly what I and my family have, how do I see God giving me anything?  How will I be able to receive anything with clenched hands?  Could I need to take a break?  A pause on my journey, a plateau?  Good, meaningful work is done on plateaus. 

That, of course, brought me to ambition.  What am I ambitious for...my own "success" or that of the Word I have been given to share?  How does ambition play with a "lukewarm" life?  Can ambition be acceptable within the work of a consecrated life?

Lots of questions; yet, I'm feeling less confused and more hopeful.  Interesting how that is.

Returning to My Thoughts

I decided very recently that it was time for me to leave the world of Facebook. It was a difficult decision, but one that I am living with for at least a month. After that time, I think I'll know better whether I should re-activate my account. It's sort of weird. Facebook tends to turn us all into voyeuers, participating vicariously in the lives of our "friends". Is that really how I want to experience my friends? I decided to leave Facebook when I was confronted with my own inability to NOT respond in some nasty way to a post that really bothered me. I strive to have upbeat, or at least deeply provocative posts...not posts berating or belittling someone else's point of view. Yet, I found myself unable to NOT respond in a way that I simply did NOT want to put out there. So, I left.

A good friend and ministerial colleague of mine questioned my motives. He asked if I was turning my back on a ministry that had uplifted and edified Christ. I don't think I have. I have other avenues for that sort of ministry, this blog being one of them. However, he asked me to pray about my decision. I am.

Prayer. Wow. Know this, right now: I am preaching on the topic of prayer in a couple of weeks. Be warned!

Prayer is our way of communicating to God, through Jesus Christ, our needs, our desires, our fears, our joys, our sadnesses. We tend to think of prayer as being a formalized list of things, prayed at certain times of day or even just on Sunday. Do you worry about "how" you pray? What words you use? Whether the grammar is correct? Prayer is kind. Prayer is accepting. Prayer is a conversation with God, with your closest friend, with the kind of friend who can finish your sentences.

Prayer is on-going, fluid, merciful, and kind.

Yes. Prayer is kind. Prayer is accepting. Prayer is...dare I say it...easy! We are told that the Spirit carries our prayers which are too deep and dark for words with sighs and groans straight to God's ear. When was the last time you spent your night balled into the fetal position, crying out to God (whom you believed had deserted you), asking for help, asking for answers, asking for the safety of the night? Did you feel any sense of response? Did you feel God's arms around you?

Was there silence when you finished?

Any ideas on why there might have been silence?

Could silence be part of the answer to your prayer? Could God be waiting on you to show the willingness to participate in the answer?

There are some prayers that I DO NOT WANT God to expect me to participate in. There are some prayers I just want GOD to do that "thing" and flip a switch or somehow make it easier on me...immediately!

How about you?

I have found that rarely, if ever, does God answer my prayers within minutes. Really. I am a 50 year old woman. I know all about the vagaries of instant gratification. I know all about the benefits of delayed gratification and the education in appreciation and gratitude that delayed gratification offers. However, that said and all, I would much rather receive the answers to my prayers now, please, and easily if at all possible.

How about you?

I know that God is in the world today. Absolutely. I know that God hears me when I ask for help. I know these things because I see the evidence every day of my life! I know these things because I am aware. I know these things because God has made me wait for the answers at times. God has made me participate and BE the answers sometimes.

How about you?

Where is your prayer life leading you?
Where is your prayer life leaving you?
Where is your prayer life taking you?

Shalom, friends.