Author: MASadmin

Just Go: a sermon saying Goodbye to my Home Congregation in

I preached this today at Trinity Long Island City, saying goodbye to the community that brought me on this journey that I now find myself on.

Lessons: Jeremiah 20:7-13; Psalm 69:7-18; Romans 6:1b-11; Matthew 10:24-39

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So, two days ago, I sat in a car outside Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, caught in some lunch hour traffic. It was day 2 of my road trip from Raleigh, North Carolina to NYC, where I went to buy my brother’s old car and drive it back home – and the traffic was barely moving. My legs ached because I wasn’t use to all this driving and my head was a little foggy after spending the last two days listening to Iggy Azalea’s “Fancy” like a million times on the radio and I felt trapped between SUVs, pickup trucks, and semis, on this highway 180 miles from home. But then I noticed something ‚Äì something that I wouldn’t have noticed if the traffic was actually moving. There was this man, standing on an overpass, over the highway, and he was holding this large sign. I don’t remember exactly what the sign said ‚Äì something about repenting and following Jesus ‚Äì but I remember that man because he was standing there and giving the happiest, friendliest wave to everyone as they drove by. SUV, semi-truck, old pickup ‚Äì we all got that same, happy, smiling wave, as we inched along. Here was a man who heard Jesus’ commands ‚Äì heard his words in Matthew ‚Äì heard the word to Go out – and this is where it lead him: to an overpass outside Harrisburg, PA.

These words from Matthew ‚Äì they are part of a whole chapter that Jesus devotes to instructing his disciples about what it means to follow Jesus. After blessings and giving the disciples orders to cast out demons and cure the sick, Jesus follows up with words on what to bring, how to interact with people you meet, and what to do when people aren’t happy that you’re there. These disciples are being sent out ‚Äì sent beyond Jesus’ immediate presence ‚Äì and they are told to GO, to visit new places and meet new people ‚Äì to tell their story and to tell all the new things that God is doing through Jesus. Jesus’ words to his disciples are simple ‚Äì they are to just GO ‚Äì to preach the gospel, tell their story, talk about Jesus, share Jesus with everyone they meet because once you roll with Jesus, everything changes.

And what we heard today ‚Äì these are Jesus’ last bit of instruction to his disciples. And – I’ll be honest – they’re not my favorite Jesus sayings. Sure, there’s the bit about God knowing every hair on my head ‚Äì that’s a personal favorite of mine ‚Äì but then Jesus continues. He says he comes to not bring peace but to bring a sword. He says he has come to turn son against father, daughter against mother ‚Äì where is the love here? Where is the hope and peace that defines the Jesus we know and love? This isn’t the gentle Jesus – this is a hard Jesus. This isn’t even the Jesus that asks us to be nicer to someone else or to think more of our neighbor or the stranger down the block – this is a harsh Jesus that says once you roll with Jesus, everything changes. And not just our disposition or emotions – we don’t just start thinking happier thoughts or become more optimistic and positive ‚Äì no, when Jesus says Go ‚Äì things become riskier ‚Äì everything changes.

But what exactly does it mean to Go?

If we take our relationship with Jesus seriously, does that mean everything about ourselves right now has to change? Do we quit our jobs, pack up our families, and like the early disciples of Jesus, head on out into unknown places? Or maybe, like that man on the highway outside Harrisburg, do we give up our lunch hour to hold a sign, to proclaim the importance of Jesus with a friendly wave to anyone who sees us go by? Or do we do something maybe a little more tame – and we send an email to Pastor Paul or maybe our bishop – and ask about seminary and just what it means to be a pastor in Jesus’ church?
To be honest, I wish I had a better answer to what it means to Go. After three years in seminary, one year on internship, a summer working as a chaplain at a hospital – after all the sermons I’ve preached, all the books I read, all the lectures I attended, all the people I sat with as they took their last breath, all the babies I blessed as they began their walk on earth – from all the Tweets and facebook posts, Confirmation and Sunday School lessons I taught and created – I wish I had a better answer for all of us of just what it means to Go. But I don’t. There isn’t a checklist out there where we just cross everything off that helps us be the best Christian or be the best disciples in the world. There’s isn’t a special code that unlocks the secret to what God is doing in every situation we find ourselves in at home or at work. And seminary doesn’t give you all the answers and it doesn’t even help you say the right thing in those situations where you just don’t know what to say. I can’t say that after all this that I know what your Go will look like ‚Äì but I can say this ‚Äì just Go.

Because that’s what Jesus is saying. Jesus is saying “Go and Go Out” – because Jesus is taking us somewhere where our story needs to be shared – where our struggles need to be told – where our hopes, fears, loves, and peace need to meet with someone we don’t know yet. They need to hear our story – our meeting with Jesus – our struggles with God ‚Äì they need to know when we felt God in our lives and when we didn’t. They need to know all of our story because that’s part of God’s story. That’s what Paul is hinting at in our second lesson ‚Äì that’s part of what baptism is all about ‚Äì your story is now God’s story and God’s story is now your story ‚Äì and that story needs to be shared with the person not in the pew sitting next to you but with the person that you’re about to meet. We don’t know where this will take us – or what this we’ll cause us to do – but our command from Jesus is to just Go ‚Äì Go because God is with us. Go because God loves us. Go because God is bringing us to love and bring hope to places that can only respond with a sword. Your journey might lead you to Seminary, it might lead you to a bridge in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to say hi to a guy waving to drivers every Friday – or it might lead you to someplace entirely new. But wherever it leads us, know one thing ‚Äì God knows you ‚Äì God loves you ‚Äì Jesus is with you ‚Äì so just Go.

Amen.

A slightly more hardcore sendoff blessing

Here’s the third (and final) blessing I received on my sendoff on Sunday.

O God of Outrage, worshiped by the saints and all the angels: pour out your Spirit on your servants who, with the gift of music, welcome the Misfits and give hope to the Damned. Embolden your musical Stooges, that with dissonant courage they might Clash with Bad Religion, clarify every Social Distortion, and shred every Black Flag of government tyranny and corporate oppression. Through their ministry heal our Poison Hearts and purify our Maimed Happiness as we await your coming glory, our Holiday in the Sun. In your name we pray, Amen.

Another Sendoff Blessing from Frodo

Here’s another sendoff blessing I received on Sunday.

We thank you, O God, for all your servants and witnesses of times past. Through their example, inspire us to act in Spirit and in truth. Give us the wisdom of Gandalf, the humility of Aragorn, the faithfulness of Samwise Gamgee and steadfast endurance of Frodo Baggins, the alacrity of Legolas Greenleaf and courageous strength of Gimli. Unite us in your fellowship with all the saints who have passed to glory in the Timeless Halls; in your mercy, give the hope of your salvation and the promise of eternal life to those of us who endure in Middle Earth. In your name we pray, Amen.

A sendoff Star Wars blessing

Yesterday, I said goodbye to Advent NYC where I served for the last four years during my seminary career. At a special reception after the 11 am service, three special blessings were shared with me. Here’s one of them.

Gracious God, whose ark of the covenant melted the face of Belloq, yet whose mercy spared Indiana Jones and Marion, we thank you for Marc’s time and service here at Advent church.

He came in as a young Padawan, and now is leaving as a Jedi for Jesus.

Please Lord, bless him with focused sermons that can cut to the heart of his congregation like a light saber through the belly of a tauntaun. Give him faith as deep as the Sarlac pit, and let not even ingesting a heavily armored bounty hunger disturb it.

Give him the wisdom of Yoda, yet may he never confuse his syntax by placing the verb before the subject. Confusing that would be.

Give him the strength of a wookie, yet let him be a better loser at holographic checkers.

Give him a warm heart so he can empathize with others and also survive being frozen in carbonite.

Give him the friendliness of an Ewok, but never let him be as annoying.

Lord, illuminate Marc’s path with the light of the twin suns of Tatooine and bless him wherever you lead him.

From Ephesus to Endor.
From Antioch to Alderaan.
From Damascus to Dagobah.

Lord, when Marc is doubtful, whisper in his ear, “Marc, I am your father.” And then add in a rasphy heavy breath, ’cause that will be cooler.

Keep him from the dark side. And let Marc know that your force is with him…always.

Amen.

The making of an amendment to the ELCA Capital Campaign: the Young

The ELCA Children, Youth, & Family Network recently released videos of the keynote presentations from their 2014 Extravaganza. Ian McConnell offered a vision of ministry that works through generational frameworks. His presentation was centered the work I participated in at last years 2013 ELCA Churchwide Assembly where a group of young adults and youth gathered together to add a $4 million amendment to the ELCA Capital Campaign that will support the development of lay youth and young adult leaders in the church. Take a look.

And I’m not only sharing because several of my tweets are visible in his presentation. This is a story that we’re telling and sharing. Expect to hear more very soon.

Post Seminary To-Do List

Me and Bud on my Graduation DayNow that I’m no longer a seminarian, here’s just a sample of my current to-do list:

1. Move to New Jersey
2. Build 3 websites and launch them during the Metropolitan New York Synod Assembly
3. Visit Sesame Street Place
4. Rebrand/redo this blog: time to go basic and develop/modify a new theme
5. I’m in one call process
6. Complete transition out of my current job
7. Pack
8. Pack
9. Pack
10. Buy a car
11. Pack
12. Teach Oliver how to master the waterslide
13. Say goodbye to a lot of people
14. Preach at my home church out in Queens
15. Go to the beach at least once

There are other things on the list. Graduate school might be behind me but that doesn’t mean anything stops. Stuff just changes.

These Things – a Sermon for May 4, 2014

Butterflies at AdventPreached at Advent Lutheran Church; 11 am service.

Lessons for the day (Third Sunday in Easter, Year A): Acts 2:14a, 36-41; Psalm 116:1-4, 12-19; 1 Peter 1:17-23; Luke 24:13-35

For the audio inclined, listen to the sermon here.

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Christ is Risen! [Christ is Risen Indeed, Alleluia.]

Please be seated. [Pause]

That’s right ‚Äì Christ is Risen ‚Äì even for the geeks. Because this week was a big week for geeks. We had our own resurrection of sorts because on Tuesday, the internet kinda exploded because the cast for the next Star Wars film was announced. Starwars.com posted a picture of the cast for Episode 7, all sitting in chairs and on couches. And they were in this large circle, all talking to each other through an initial read-thru of the script. And we went bananas because, right there on the couches, were the originals. Carrie Fisher aka Princess Leia, along with Harrison Ford as Han Solo, and Mark Hamill as Luke Skywalker ‚Äì were sitting right there! Even the robot R2D2 made an appearance, sitting in a crate off to the side. If you’re a fan of this sci-fi movie franchise that takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far, away, seeing the original cast members actually having a role in this new movies is just epic. This is the Star Wars movie we’ve been waiting for since 1983. And once the movie comes out in December 2015, we’re going to see a new story, a new future, for the characters we’ve known and loved for forty years. We’re on the cusp, the edge of a new beginning, and we just can’t wait to see what happens next.

And that new beginning ‚Äì this new next ‚Äì it’s bittersweat because it signifies something destructive. Because the thing is ‚Äì for the last forty years ‚Äì the story of Star Wars has ignited the imaginations of countless people. Like all good stories, the story of Star Wars caused many more stories to be created. Histories were written and explored in animated films, cartoons, comic books, and video games. The future was explained through new enemies, new foes to defeat, and new good guys and gals to root for. There was just this huge, new universe to live in and explore. So, we already knew what happened next because those stories were already written. We knew the next the things ‚Äì the new foes facing off against Luke Skywalker, the new political problems Princess Leia would overcome, and the zany adventures that Han Solo would get himself into. That story was not already known ‚Äì it was already part of the story we, as fans, embodied and lived. But this new movie changes all that. It was announced that all that history, all those years of stories ‚Äì all of that no longer counts and no longer matters. It’s as if a thousand voices have gone silent ‚Äì replaced by this new movie with a new history, a new future, a new story that we know nothing about. We don’t have that script sitting in our laps. We can’t flip through it and see what parts of the story come next. We’re on the edge of a new unknown beginning where the stories we told ourselves no longer work ‚Äì and I think that’s what these two disciples in our reading today from Luke understood. I think that’s what they were feeling and experiencing because when the stranger meets them on the road, stops them and asks them what they were talking about, what things they just experienced in Jerusalem ‚Äì the first thing that they do is stop. They stop walking, talking ‚Äì they just stand still. Because they, too, are on the edge of a new beginning ‚Äì a new beginning that they don’t understand, a new beginning that is unknown, a new beginning where they don’t have all the information ‚Äì because the stories they told themselves about Jesus, about the future, about their lives once Jesus redeemed Israel ‚Äì all those stories have been wiped out because Jesus died on the Cross. Jesus, for these two disciples, is just plain gone ‚Äì and they don’t know what to do next.

So, Cleopas and the unnamed disciple do what they know how to do. They take a journey out of Jerusalem and head to a town nearby. And along the way, they talk. The scripture doesn’t tell us what they said but I imagine they did what I do when I’m caught at the edge of a new beginning that completely upturns my expectations, thoughts, and visions of myself. I dwell. I relive the experiences. I analyze them, pulling apart all the pieces, thinking that if I think about the issues long enough, talk about them to the point where my friends are sick of hearing about it ‚Äì I just might figure out that one thing ‚Äì that one thing that makes what just happened sensible. Maybe you do the same thing too. We dwell in the what-if’s, what-might-have-beens, the warning signs, and hope that we’ll figure it all out, find that magic bullet that will fix it ‚Äì will fix us ‚Äì and we’ll just feel different. We won’t stand still. We’ll be able to move on, and get through the edge of this new beginning, past the anxiety, the worry, the mystery, the sadness, and the fear ‚Äì and we’ll get right to the good stuff ‚Äì to the things we expect and know ‚Äì to the events and experiences that leave anxiety and unknowing behind. We want to move forward ‚Äì to keep walking ‚Äì moving forward ‚Äì we don’t want to stop and deal with the loss of what we knew, of what we expected, of the loss of the stories that made us who were are.

Cleopas and the disciples wanted to keep moving ‚Äì to keep heading somewhere ‚Äì but when Jesus called them, when Jesus met them on the road, Jesus wanted them to stop; Jesus wanted them to hold still. These two disciples of Jesus who expected Jesus to change the world and redeem Israel, who expected Jesus to not die nor for Jesus to rise from the dead ‚Äì these two disciples, when they meet the Jesus-they-did-not-see on that road to the village of Emmaus ‚Äì they told Jesus what I don’t think they told themselves: that they just don’t know what’s going to happen next.

And that’s okay. It’s okay to not know what happens next. It’s okay to not see how moving to a new town will go or what that new job across the country will entail. It’s okay to be scared when a relationship that took our entire heart and soul, ends, or when a sudden illness flips life upside down. And it’s okay when an unexpected joy shows up and a long held dream is fulfilled. It’s okay to be unsettled, sad, and afraid at the start of all new beginnings because those new beginnings are never beginnings where we’re alone. Jesus is there – right there ‚Äì because that, to me, is part of the Easter message. Christ is Risen means that Christ is, above all, present right here and now. When the new beginnings come, and they will come because we never know the future, we never know which person will run into our path, which sudden change will meet us head on, or when some unexpected opportunity makes itself known ‚Äì when these new beginnings come, Jesus is right there, present with us because our lives are not static lives. Things happen. Change happens. And sometimes that change will feel as if our entire history, way of life ‚Äì whatever gave us meaning ‚Äì is just plain gone. But Jesus isn’t. Jesus is present. Jesus is with us. Jesus is walking together with us because Jesus is God’s love. Cleopas and the other disciple, heading down that road to a village away from Jerusalem ‚Äì Jesus met them. Jesus stopped them. Jesus had them stand still. And Jesus reminded them that his story, God’s story, our story, is all about new beginnings. The Resurrection ‚Äì that is the ultimate new beginning ‚Äì and that’s the new beginning that God gifts to us each and every day. We don’t know all our new beginnings ‚Äì we don’t know all the changes that will happen in our lives ‚Äì we don’t have our life’s script open on our lips, ready to see what our next story is ‚Äì but we do know this one thing – that Jesus is with us, on the roads of our lives, never shrinking from us because Christ is Risen. Christ is Risen indeed. Allelulia.