Peace for Stormy Days

Mark 4:35-41

Jesus woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!”  --Mark 4:39

Last August, during the ELCA Rostered Ministers’ Gathering in Atlanta, I had the opportunity to visit the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library.  I was in high school when Carter was president.   Today, almost forty years later, I can see retirement looming on the distant horizon.  But, as I toured the museum, I came to the sobering realization that, even after all those years, we are still wrestling with many of the same issues, concerns and challenges we were facing then.  

On Tuesday, our synod “Building Bridges” group met to preview “I Am Not Your Negro,” a powerful film based on the writing of James Baldwin reflecting on the murders of Medgar Evers, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr.  When we finished watching the film, I had the same feeling I did at the Carter Library: sadly, not much has changed.  The film does a masterful job of connecting the civil rights movement in the middle of the 20^thcentury with what is currently going on in our nation.  Racism and the racist systems that support it are alive and well, even after more than fifty years of work and effort to address this evil in our land.  

This past week, the ongoing debates over immigration, the specific issue of family separation and the scenes of small children in detention centers surrounded by chain link fencing have swirled around us.  These issues are complex and elicit strong feelings across the spectrum of opinions on the subject.   As people of faith, I wonder, how can we respond to these issues based on the law of love?  (Romans 13:10)  I wonder, how can we work together --  Republicans, Democrats and Independents -- to address these complexities constructively and compassionately rather than just digging in and vilifying those who see things differently? 

Again, I see that not much has changed.  My own family fled Europe in the early 19^thcentury and immigrated to this country as stowaways.  People have been fleeing oppression and violence for millennia.  Welcoming the stranger and foreigner is one of the bedrock themes of the scriptures.  Perhaps the reason it comes up so frequently is that, even then, people weren’t as welcoming as they could or should be?

   

This week, I can really relate to the writer of Ecclesiastes who bemoans the fact that, despite our best efforts, things never seem to change.  There, the Teacher says,  “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.”  (1:9)  It’s a depressing thought.

All these things have been tossing around in my head as I have reflected on this week’s text.  As always, the storms still swirl and the waves crash and the wind howls all around us as we huddle in our little boats on an angry sea.  Like those who came before us, many wonder where God is in all this.  Is our Lord still asleep on the cushion?  Does Jesus even care that so many people are perishing?

But, Psalm 46 begins, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear…”  Toward the end of the Psalm it reads, “Be still, and know that I am God.”    In the midst of the stormy sea, Jesus rebukes the wind and says “Peace!  Be still!” and then says to the huddled disciples, “Are you afraid?  Have you still no faith?”  I think Jesus would say the same thing to us in the midst of the storms that always seem to swirl around our lives.

Resting in the peace which is Christ can sustain us in the midst of the storms.  But, resting in the peace of Christ does not mean putting our head in the sand.  It means putting our trust in the God who loves us and cares for us enough to become one of us, die for us and rise again on the third day.   It means doing our level best to love as Jesus loved, and to care like Jesus cared and to work for healing, reconciliation and peace any way we can in the midst of a world that is filled with brokenness and probably always will be.  It means re-anchoring ourselves in the faith which sustains us, and shapes us and guides us through listening prayer and the study of the scriptures, in worship, confession and forgiveness, and by walking with one another in the fellowship the Gospel -- even when we disagree.  

To love God, love one another and love our neighbor as ourselves is the mandate of the scriptures. That has not and never will change, because the love of God for us never changes.   In that promise, I find hope and comfort in the midst of issues and concerns and problems and challenges that never seem to go away.  In that promise, I find the will to continue, knowing that the strength to do so does not ever come from me…  but from the One who created and claimed me, through Jesus Christ my Lord.

Peace,

Bishop Mike   

Thank you for reading.

Doesn't Look Like Much

Mark 4:30-32

“It is like a mustard seed…”   --Mark 4:31

One of my favorite Dr. Seuss books is Horton Hears a Who.  Do you know the story?  Horton, an elephant with big elephant ears, can hear voices -- a whole civilization -- coming from a dust speck on a small flower.  No one else can hear it and they think he’s crazy. Horton convinces the Whovians on the dust speck to make noise so that they can be heard, but it doesn’t work. Finally, the smallest Who with the tiniest voice, climbs to the very top of the pile of shouting Who’s and this smallest of voices proves enough to break through and be heard.

The point is, of course, that even the smallest voice matters.  In fact, it can make all the difference.

Jesus uses a tiny mustard seed to make a similar point about the Reign of God.  He says this tiniest of seeds grows into a great bush capable of providing homes for the birds.  At first glance, the Reign of God may not look like much and many may not even be able to perceive it but, watch out!  Once it starts growing…!   

I’ve spent the last couple of days examining our congregational statistical reports for the past year.  It was a sobering exercise.  The decline in our congregations in the Arkansas-Oklahoma Synod continues, if a bit slowed.  We are a synod of small churches.  53% of our congregations have less than one hundred members.  Our small congregations struggle with the realities of their diminutive size every day.   It can seem pretty bleak sometimes!  But, most of the time, I see a different picture. I see a pile of mustard seeds with the potential to sprout.  I see evidence of the Reign of God.  I see the smallest of the Who’s adding their voices to the cacophony of the heavenly chorus of the faithful.

Around here, we like to say we are a “small scrappy synod.”   Even our smallest churches are doing God’s Gospel Work.  Not just caring for their small communities of faith gathered around Word and  Sacrament -- which they do -- but they are also engaged in the communities that surround them (or in the nearby communities for those out in the countryside).   They are mustard seeds sprouting.   They might not look like much, and maybe, by the world’s standards, they aren’t.  But in God’s eyes they are precious and full of possibilities for sharing God’s life and love with the world.

Jesus started his movement with a rag-tag band of guys and a handful of women.  They didn’t look like much.  But, empowered by his Spirit, they changed the world.  Mustard seeds of the Reign of God.  That same Spirit can use mustard seeds like us too – whether we are in a small church or a mega ministry --  to share God’s love and grace with those around us and with those far off.  That same Spirit can cause us to sprout and grow into great bushes capable of doing stunning work, sometimes in tiny, almost imperceptible ways, all in Jesus’ name.   

Sometimes it takes the smallest of voices to break through the din of the world!   I hope and pray that you are adding yours to the sound.  Who knows who might hear?

Peace,

Bishop Mike

PS:  The photo is of a small container of mustard seeds I’ve carried around with me for decades.  It reminds me of Jesus’ words on days I’m feeling kind of small and insignificant.  Thanks for reading.

He Did It! She Did It!

Genesis 3:8-15 / Mark 3:20-35

[The Lord God said,] “Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?”  --Genesis 3:11

The two children stood in the living room, guilt written all over their faces.  The potted plant, no longer potted, lay in a heap of soil and broken ceramic on the shag carpet.  A Nerf Frisbee lay a few feet away.  Their mother, hands on her hips, stared down at them, anger written on her face. “Who did this?”  She demanded.  The brother pointed at the sister.  “She did it!”  The sister pointed at the brother.  “HE did it!” Then, both in chorus, “It was the DOG!!!”

Sound familiar?  

Most of us probably remember not owning up to a mistake, or worse, trying to cast the blame on someone else at some point in our childhood.  This propensity for shirking responsibility appears to be written into the very fabric of our human nature. At least that’s what Genesis suggests.   Adam blames Eve.  Eve blames the snake.  But, God sees through it all and holds everyone responsible and everyone pays a price.

Unfortunately, our all too human tendency to cast blame and avoid responsibility has a bad habit of following us into adulthood.   A corollary to this tendency is our insatiable need to find cause (and any cause but ourselves) when things don’t go well in our lives.  We need to understand why things happen, find reasons, and find someone to blame in the midst of suffering, or tragedy or crisis or just plain bad luck.  (Of course, this tendency to search for the “why” of things has also led us to great scientific discoveries, advances in technology and medicine and a greater understanding of history and human society.)

In this week’s Gospel Lesson,  everyone seems to be trying to figure out why Jesus can do the things he is doing.  His family blames madness.  The scribes blame Satan.  The curious crowds credit Jesus’ unique authority and are so fascinated by it they won’t even let Jesus eat!   Even the disciples seem baffled by Jesus at times.

But we know.  Don’t we?  Or do we?  

As people of faith, we say we trust Jesus is the One who heals with the power of God’s Spirit.  We trust that Jesus is the One who embodies God’s love, and grace and forgiveness in flesh and blood for us and for the sake of the world.  We trust that Jesus is the One who was willing to take the blame, all the blame, and nail it to a cross.   But do we really LIVE like we trust these affirmations?

In Jesus, we find freedom from the guilt and shame we carry from all the broken pots we’ve left on the shag carpets in our lives.   But this is not a freedom FROM, it is a freedom FOR.   It gives us the ability to take the responsibility God has given us, look our shortcomings and mistakes and failures squarely in the eye and learn from them, and to live our lives, not by blaming others for the state of the world, but by partnering with others through the Holy Spirit to continue Jesus’ work of the healing of the world.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

I pray that we all learn to bring all our differences to the table and learn how to use them for the sake of the world!  Thanks, as always, for reading.  If you found this helpful, thought provoking, or mildly interesting, please feel free to pass it along.