Year: 2011

LENT 4A: You’re the One!

shelliwilliams Calling, Choices, Journey, LENT

Lectionary Text:  1 Samuel 16: 1-13
The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you grieve over Saul? I have rejected him from being king over Israel. Fill your horn with oil and set out; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons.” Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul hears of it, he will kill me.” And the Lord said, “Take a heifer with you, and say, ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’ Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what you shall do; and you shall anoint for me the one whom I name to you.” Samuel did what the Lord commanded, and came to Bethlehem. The elders of the city came to meet him trembling, and said, “Do you come peaceably?” He said, “Peaceably; I have come to sacrifice to the Lord; sanctify yourselves and come with me to the sacrifice.” And he sanctified Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice. When they came, he looked on Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord.” But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” Then Jesse called Abinadab, and made him pass before Samuel. He said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” Then Jesse made Shammah pass by. And he said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel, and Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen any of these.” Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” And he said, “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.” And Samuel said to Jesse, “Send and bring him; for we will not sit down until he comes here.” He sent and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. The Lord said, “Rise and anoint him; for this is the one.” Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward. Samuel then set out and went to Ramah.

Once again, God has called the most unlikely, the most unexpected, and the most unprepared candidate to do God’s work.  There seems to be a pattern here.  This time, God’s choice is a young, but apparently good-looking, shepherd, an eighth son, from the village of Bethlehem, and from a family with no real pedigree or appropriate ancestry at all.  And with this person, God lays the road for the hope of the world.  No pressure there!  But the unlikeliness doesn’t stop there.  What about Samuel? God called him to go to Jesse the Bethlehemite and anoint a new king. Well, I’m pretty sure that Saul (i.e, the King!) would not have been impressed with that had he found out. What if Samuel had just said, “You know, God, I would really rather not. That just doesn’t work into my plan.”?

In this Lenten season, what would change about our journey if we knew where we would end up, if we thought that we might end up in a place that we didn’t plan? And what would change about our life if we knew how it was all going to turn out? I mean, think about it…the boy David is out in the field just minding his own business and doing what probably generations of family members before him had done. He sees his brothers go inside one by one, probably wandering what in the world is going on. Finally, he is called in. “You’re the one!” “What do you mean I’m the one?” he probably asked in his teen-age sarcasm. “What in the world are you talking about? Don’t I even get a choice?” “Not so much.” And so David was anointed. “You’re the one!”

What would have happened if David has just turned and walked away? Well, I’m pretty sure that God would have found someone else, but the road would have turned away from where it was. It would have been a good road, a life-filled road, a road that would have gotten us where we needed to be. But it wouldn’t have been the road that God envisioned it to be.  We know how it all turned out. David started out by playing the supposed evil out of Saul with his lyre. He ultimately became a great king and generations later, a child was brought forth into the world, descended from David. The child grew and became himself anointed—this time not for lyre-playing or earthly kingship but as Messiah, as Savior, as Emmanuel, God-Incarnate. And in turn, God then anoints the ones who are to fall in line and follow him. “You’re the one”.

Do we even get a choice, you ask? Sure, you get a choice. You can close yourself off and try your best to hold on to what is really not yours anyway or you can walk forward into life as the one anointed to build the specific part of God’s Kingdom that is yours. We are all called to different roads in different ways. But the calling is specifically yours. And in the midst of it, there is a choice between death and life. Is there a choice? Not so much! Seeing the way to walk is not necessarily about seeing where the road is going. So just keep walking and enjoy the scenery along the way!

So, on this Lenten journey, look for the unexpected and walk toward it!

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Lenten Discipline: Meeting and Welcoming

shelliwilliams Civility Project, Hospitality, Immigration, LENT
“Come Unto Me” Window
 St. Paul’s United Methodist Church, Houston

At first glance, hospitality seems like an odd suggestion for a Lenten practice.  After all, meeting and welcoming others is a way of being or acting like a Christian, but what does it have to do with our own spiritual walk?  The truth is, hospitality is more than making cupcakes and hosting a great party (although if you do that, I’m always open for an invitation!).  It’s more than making a guest feel comfortable in your home (which is, after all, the mark of any good host).  In fact, it’s about more than welcoming anyone, friend or stranger, at all.  The spiritual practice of hospitality is about entering another’s life and, perhaps even more difficult, allowing an other to enter yours.  It is walking the way that Christ walked–welcoming all unto himself and then allowing them to see him in the deepest and most profound way.

We struggle with this.  Our society teaches us to protect ourselves, to stand up for our place, and to not let anyone in who we do not trust.  And so we put up fences around our borders and walls around our lives all in the name of protecting what we have and who we see ourselves to be.  OK, really, at the risk of sounding trite, is that what Jesus would do?  I doubt it. After all, while we’re arguing over how many additional persons to allow into this country of “respectable” immigrants (most of which are probably descended from illegal immigrants themselves!–I know my great-great-grandfather probably stowed away on a boat to get here from Germany!), Jesus is welcoming the Samaritan woman at the well and giving her life. So, let’s see–respectability vs. life.  Sounds like there’s a winner to me!

Maybe we’ve forgotten what hospitality is.  What is it to you?  For me, I think at the very least its civility.  Dr. Jim Bankston, our Senior Pastor, mentioned in today’s sermon Mark DeMoss, a conservative evangelical Republican that partnered with Lanny Davis, a liberal Jewish Democrat to work on what they called The Civility Project.  They came up with a 32-word Civility Pledge that says:
            (1) I will be civil in my public discourse and behavior.
            (2) I will be respectful of others whether or not I agree with them.
            (3) I will stand against incivility when I see it.
They sent the pledge and asked for signatures from the 585 sitting members of Congress and state governors.  Well, apparently, these 32 words are pretty divisive, because they got a whole 3 signatures.  Yes, 3 SIGNATURES!  First of all, I would encourage you to write and thank Sen. Joseph Lieberman (Conn.), Rep. Frank Wolf (Va.), and Rep. Sue Myrick (NC).  Secondly, I would encourage you to read the letter at http://www.demossnews.com/resources/civility_project.pdf.  And then, maybe we need to start talking a little more about civility.  This is amazing!

As I said, civility is the LEAST, the starting point.  I think good hosts go a step farther and welcome.  And maybe those among us who do care about others will develop a spirit of tolerance and respect toward one another’s lives.  But those who walk the way of Christ do more.  Those who walk the way of Christ accept one another not in spite of what they are but because of who they are–a child of God, a brother or sister in this big human family, a co-worker in bringing the vision of God to be.  You know, you don’t have to become friends.  You don’t have to agree.  In truth, you don’t even have to like each other.  Just be open to what you can offer each other.  Just be open to the way that you can encounter God in the face of another.  We are all children of God, immigrants to this earth, visitors for a time until we finally return home together.

So, as your Lenten disciple, go and welcome a stranger and be open to what he or she can bring to your life.     

“People do not enter our lives to be coerced or manipulated, but to enrich us by their differences, and the be graciously received in the name of Christ.”  (Elizabeth Canham)

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

Let’s Go Fly a Kite!

shelliwilliams Response

I saw a kite flying today.  It dawned on me that it had been a really long time since I had seen one.  Do people not fly them anymore?  Is it because I live in the inner city where everything is sort of on top of everything else and there’s no room?  I used to love flying kites when I was little.  Mine was blue and red.  I probably wasn’t that great a kite-flyer because mine crashed a lot.  But I still loved it. I loved running along on a windy day trying to make sure that my kite stayed airborne.

Kite-flying is an interesting phenomenon, when you think about it.  You have to know how to control it against the wind and, yet, you also have to realize that you really can’t control it at all.  It’s more an exercise of response than control.  Really good kite-flyers have to learn that they really don’t have control at all once the kite is up.  Keeping the kite flying is a matter of steering with the wind; in essence, you have to relinquish the control that you have and follow where the wind takes you. 

Maybe kite-flying would be a good Lenten practice!  So much of our lives is about control.  In fact our society implies that if we don’t have control, if we’re not in charge, then we have somehow failed.  That completely flies in the face (cute pun intended!) of our walk of faith.  Walking this walk of faith, this Way of Christ, is not about control; it is about response.  You have to follow where the wind takes you.  Now don’t get me wrong, you still have to DO something or you’ll crash into the ground (another cute pun intended!).  You still have to stay with it and sometimes run to keep up but, always, always, there is something more that will allow you to fly.

So, for one of your Lenten practice, go fly a kite! (cute pun NOT intended!–Just do it!)

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

LENT 3A: On The Outside Looking In

shelliwilliams DISCIPLESHIP, God's Love, Inclusion

Lectionary Text:  John 4: 5-26 (27-42)
So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon. A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”

What was she even doing there, this woman of Samaria?  Here she was walking the streets alone, coming to the well in the heat of the day hoping that she wouldn’t run into any of the regulars.  She was tired of being taunted, tired of having to try so hard to ignore the cutting remarks and the cold stares.  And so she comes to draw water hoping against hope that no one would be there, to draw water from this old well steeped in history.  She was surprised when this man appeared.  He was a Jew.  What was he doing here in her city?  She put her head down, hoping that he would just pass by and be on his way.  She didn’t want any trouble.

The less than civil relationship between the Jews and the Samaritans dated back at least 1,000 years before the birth of Christ.  Both believed in God.  Both had a monotheistic understanding of the one true God, the YHWH of their shared tradition of belief.  But where the temple of YHWH for the Jews existed on Mount Zion in Jerusalem, the Samaritans instead worshipped God on Mount Gerizim near the ancient city of Shechem.  And with that, a new line of religious understanding was formed.  The Samaritans believed that their line of priests was the legitimate one, rather than the line in Jerusalem and they accepted only the Law of Moses as divinely inspired, without recognizing the writings of the prophets or the books of wisdom.   What started as a simple religious division, a different understanding of how God relates to us and we relate to God, eventually grew into a cultural and political conflict that would not go away.  The tension escalated and the hatred for the other was handed down for centuries from parent to child over and over again.

But this is not what Jesus saw in the woman.  He asked her for a drink and began a relationship that cut through 1,000 years of prejudice and hatred and outsiders.  Jesus saw her not as a Samaritan and not even as a lowly woman but as a fellow human, a sister, a child of God.  And somewhere in the conversation, the woman saw who Jesus was too.  He was no longer a Jew; she was no longer a Samaritan.  He was no longer the insider looking out; she was no longer the outsider looking in.  They were instead part of a shared humanity with a shared vision of what the world looked like.  The woman’s new life begins when she recognizes Jesus’ identity.

Now I don’t think that Jesus had some grand evangelism plan.  He was not trying to add numbers to his membership.  If you read the whole lectionary passage (I cheated and shortened it a bit!), the woman does not convert to Christianity (which wasn’t really invented yet!).  She doesn’t even convert to Judaism.  She is still a Samaritan.  In fact, it says that she drew other Samaritans into who Jesus was.  The point is that Jesus was not trying to build a flock of followers; he was trying to show people how to see that which illumined the Way to God.  The fact that they saw it was enough.  Perhaps the woman and her friends left after this and went to Mt. Gerizim to pray.  Thanks be to God!  Making disciples of Jesus Christ is not about increasing our church’s membersip.  It is not about forming people to look just like us or expecting them to change so that they can join our partying and praying clan.  Jesus didn’t expect the woman to change.  In fact, he didn’t even expect her to join him.  He just showed her what God’s love poured out into the world really looked like.  And from the outside looking in, she saw him.  And then she went to tell others.  Isn’t that what it’s about?  Maybe our problem is that we’re on the inside looking out.  Jesus is here, come to give each of us life.  Maybe when we’ve finished counting the offering and figuring out how many people were here today, we’ll finally look and see the One who offers us life, the One who brings all of the world into God.

So in this season of wandering and wondering, just learn how to see.

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

First Rest

shelliwilliams Journey, LENT, Rest
Quarter Rest

If you read music, you know that it is seldom composed of a never-ending stream of notes.  There are rests, spaces between.  The spaces are not places to stop.  They are places to rest, to breathe, to soak in and soak up what has happened, and to prepare oneself for the rest of the song.  The point is that they are part of the music.  Journeys are no different.  We need rest.  We need breathing room. We need to cease journeying and look back at where we’ve been.  That is part of the journey.

This journey that we call the Season of Lent has become more and more important to me over the past few years.  I have learned that I need to intentionally do something during or give up something.  I need to change what is usual and routine about my life.  I need to insert a rest and just take a breath.  Some of us give something up and some of us add something on.  I don’t think it matters which and I don’t think it matters what.  We just need to do something different.  I think that each of us has to do what is best for our life and our own way of living.  Maybe a good rule to use when figuring that out is to lose something that ensnares or contains you, that keeps you safe and comfortable and dependent, or gain something that gives you freedom, that pushes your boundaries and gives you life.  What is it that contains you?  What is it that gives you freedom?

This year I’ve chosen to write each day on this blog as my Lenten discipline.  About one-third of this season is behind us, so it is time for our “first rest”.  It is time to look back at our journey.  I love to write.  It truly does give me freedom; it truly does give me life.  This time of intentional, sometimes “ritualistic” writing (as in when I don’t have time–I’m sure you can recognize those!) has given me a new perspective.  It has made me look at things differently.  Ordinary things like missing exits and seeing funny little handmade signs on the backs of pianos have become new journeys through life.  Extraordinary occurrences like Supermoons have become glimpses of the unknown, glimpses of what God has in store.  And those difficult things that are going on in our world–tsunamis and bombings and wars–have somehow been made anew into life-giving phenomena.  This journey is somewhat planned and, yet, part of the plan is to be open to the way the Spirit moves.  That’s what it’s all about!  (But I do wish that the Spirit would not inspire Maynard quite so much.  I’m running out of Bibles!)

So, on this Lenten journey, take your first rest.  Look around.  What is it that contains you?  What is it that gives you freedom?

Grace and Peace,

Shelli

LENT 3A: Perfect Peace

shelliwilliams Hope, LENT, Suffering

LECTIONARY TEXT:  Romans 5: 1-11
Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.  For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life. But more than that, we even boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.

Thomas Merton said that “the Christian must not only accept suffering; the Christian must make it holy.”  That is very strange to us.  What exactly is holy suffering?  Suffering is bad; suffering is unbecoming; suffering is something that we all try to avoid.  So, how then, can we accept this claim that suffering produces hope?  Keep in mind that the early believers to whom Paul wrote were used to a Roman understanding of peace.  Augustus Caesar had established the Pax Romana, which sought to move in on the entire world.  It was an understanding of peace that would come from Roman prosperity and Roman power.  (I suppose they thought that peace would come if everyone else would just shut up and live the way they do!)  So, Paul is taking the “motto of the day” and turning it inside out.  This peace places its hope in glory; it is part of that larger hope of life in Christ.

Today’s news, for me, does not echo chords of peace–a bombing at a Jerusalem bus stop, the military action over Libya, and rumblings of discords from other countries in the area.  And so our discussions about peace become discussions about power.  We seem to be arguing more over who is going to be in charge of the military operations than talking about peace.  Our vision of peace has a lot to do with who’s in charge, with who has the power.  Our idea of power is an end in and of itself, rather than a way to peace.  Maybe we could stand a little reframing from Paul too.  For us, suffering is a failure; within the vision of God, suffering holds hope for newness.  Because in the midst of suffering, just like in the midst of everything else, we find God.  God walks with us through it, loving us and holding us, perhaps even revealing a way out of it, if we would only listen, and gives us a glimpse of what is to come.  The suffering of the world reveals the heart of God, reveals the holiness that is, if we will only look.

Truthfully, I don’t know what perfect peace looks like.  Chances are, I, like all of you, would be limited by a peace that makes my life easier and a lot less scary.  That’s not what it is, comfortable and lovely as that may sound.  Perfect peace is not lack of suffering; it is oneness with God.  And oneness with God enables us to see holiness in everything, to see beauty where there is none, and to see light even in the darkness.  In this season of Lent, we once again walk toward the Cross, with the drums of discord, still this moment far in the distance, growing louder with each step.  This season lasts for forty days.  But those forty days do not include the Sundays of Lent.  Known as “little Easters”, they are opportunities to glimpse and celebrate the Resurrection even in the midst of darkness.  They are reminders that even in this season of Christ’s Passion and Death, their is always a light on the horizon.  Resurrection always comes.  But it’s not a fix; it’s not a reward for the most powerful; it’s what happens when God’s love is poured into our hearts.

So, in this Lenten season, definitely pray for peace but, in the meantime, walk toward hope.

Grace and Peace,

Shelli    

Meanderings

shelliwilliams Choices, Journey, Roads

We spend a lot of this Lenten season talking about roads, journeys, wandering, pathways, and “getting back on track”.  Do you sense that there is a theme?  The truth is, life is full of roads, whether it’s a 40-year long road through a desert wilderness, a leisurely afternoon drive through the Texas wildflowers, or a quick drive to the grocery store.  I just completed a three-day meeting (that was close enough for me to stay at my house) and in the six times that I was in the car, I actually took six different routes.  One included a side errand to Target, one took me out of my way enough to drop Maynard off at Yuppie Dog (yes, “Yuppie Dog”–I supposed I’ve become completey urbanized!), one involved lunch at a Chinese restaurant, two involved “alternate” routes than that nice woman on my GPS told me to go, and two were because I was talking to my friend who was with me and missed the exit. (As a matter of fact, yes, that does happen to me often!)  But the point is, life is full of roads and there are probably more moments than not that present us with the choice of whether to take the one that will get us there the fastest, the one that will provide the most scenic route, the one that will avoid the traffic, the one with which we’re most familiar, the one that will get us back on track, or the “one less traveled by”.

I don’t really think that God lays down some road at the beginning of our existence and then expects us to stay walking straightly down the center.  In other words, I don’t necessarily think that veering from the road in front of us is wrong.  Truthfully, if anyone tries to tell you that they have stayed on one straight road or have walked it with one focus or one thought their whole life, I would propose that they are probably standing not far from where they began.  The Scripture passsages that involve roads seem endless (no pun intended)–wilderness roads, roads to Jerusalem, roads to Emmaus, roads to Bethlehem, roads through Galilee, the road to the Cross, and the roads home.  Perhaps all those roads are not necessarily there to show us the right one to walk; perhaps instead they are there to show us that no matter what path we’re one, we’ll eventually end up returning home.

And upon returning, we will perhaps be a little weary, maybe even worse for the wear.  But roads tend to make us wiser, certainly with a new perspective of home and of those we’ve met along the way.  And often, when I’ve gotten completely off the path that is best for me, God has gently nudged me back, dusting me off and setting me on my way.  But more often, and, I think even more profound in my life, are those times when God, with infinite grace and mercy, somehow brings the meandering path to me. (Oh, good grief, I missed the exit again…!)

So, on this Lenten road, travel with an awareness of all the choices you have and the way God brings a road through them all.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both
and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!  Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh!  Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
(“The Road Not Taken”, Robert Frost, 1920)

Grace and Peace,

Shelli