Ahhh . . . Maundy Thursday

It's that service I think is ever so important in Holy Week, but really I usually just struggle. Because on Thursday I know I'll have to remove my shoes, reveal my feet and let someone (who is not a trained pedicurist, mind you) touch them. Even worse, depending on how the worship is shaped, I just may have to touch someone else's revealed feet, as well! Each year I cringe. But I also have deep respect for the humility of the Christ in this situation. It takes a lot of deep love and humility to wash the disciples' dirty, nasty, "we've-walked-in-sandals-all-across-the-dusty-land-following-Jesus" feet.

I did not cringe this year, however. I rolled the hem of my jeans and was served. And I served my sister, as well. And I remembered a young man in Johannesburg. He was an angry young man, as he was bedridden as a result of disease. And his feet were bandaged. His body was bandaged to cover the many bed sores taking over his skin. We walked into his room, and they handed me supplies to remove his bandages and to wash his feet.

The "we" who went to this man's home with me are a group of young South Africans who daily walk the dirt streets and sometimes through the "bush" to get to people's homes who were suffering HIV/AIDS and other house-ridden disease. Their daily lives consisted of great humility to bring vitamins and food to those who could not leave, to sit and talk to those who were now ostracized and to, of course, wash this man's feet and the rest of his body.

I remembered them this year as we sat in the sanctuary this Maundy Thursday. I thought of their passion--a passion that is, indeed, the passion of the Christ. I remembered this man who could barely speak English and how he let me wash his feet. And I remembered Jesus who daily serves me, a foolish soul certain to betray and beg for forgiveness. I remembered, and I washed and was washed.

And not once did I cringe.

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news! Rom. 10:15

I'd love to hear your feet-washing stories . . .

Mockingbird

My friend Lane introduced me to the album Mockingbird by Derek Webb, former member of Caedmon's Call, on Lane's site The Fastlane. I just started listening to it, so I won't proclaim a bold support of the album yet. I like the lyrics to a few songs I've really heard so far, though. Check out Lane's site for a good review.

It seems that Mr. Webb is getting some backlash from his fans about this album. People are wondering why he's not preaching the Gospel in his album . . . why he's not boldly talking about salvation and passion of Christ, it seems. Interestingly, though, what I've heard addresses the passion of Jesus quite well. He talks about the passion of serving others, loving our neighbors, radically being people of Christ.

On his site, Webb has an interview with Infuzemag.com where he talks about the message of this album:

Because Jesus has kept the law on our behalf, because Jesus has loved the poor perfectly on our behalf, we are liberated. That was the message of the first record.

The message of this record is: it has liberated us unto what? Now that we are set free, now that we don’t have to do anything to earn God’s favor, how shall we live in light of that? And I think that looks very much like helping the poor. And maybe we need to look around us and see that an issue is that we are not around the poor. As Christians, we don’t live next to the poor, or those who are gay, or minorities or anyone who could be difficult for us to love. So now our neighbors are, of course, easy to love. They look like me, talk like me, make the same money and are interested in the same things. So this command has become way too easy.

In another section, he talks about the command to love our neighbor (Luke 10:27) is in the context of the good Samaritan parable (Luke 10:29-37). It's a radical call suggesting that our neighbor may be our enemy. What if we lived this way as followers of Christ, grasping to this great commandment in this radical way? What if we lived into the passion of our salvation that commands us to love our neighbors?

War no more

As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. And he sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; but the people there did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem. When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, "Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?" But Jesus turned and rebuked them, and they went to another village.
~Luke 9:51-56



Here the Gospel of Luke shares with us just one of the many examples of Jesus choosing peace in the face of opposition. When using incredible power and force against the Samaritans made sense to James and John, Jesus rebuked James and John and radically walked away from the village, instead. We know Jesus as peacemaker because the Gospels share this radical side of Jesus with us.

In solidarity with the bishops of the United Methodist Church and the thousands who have already signed their statement for peace, I pray that we call our government into living what we know through this person called Jesus. I pray that we radically call for peace and work towards peace instead of continuing in a horrific war that has cost the lives of more than 2,000 brave U.S. soldiers and tens of thousands of Iraqi citizens.

In his address Sunday, President Bush pleaded to the people of the U.S.: "I do not expect you to support everything I do, but tonight I have a request," the president said. "Do not give in to despair, and do not give up on this fight for freedom."

We are Easter people who know a different story of freedom through the radical peace of Jesus!

I do not have answers on how we can pull out of Iraq now. I know, however, that we have to challenge our leaders to be in the business of peace-planning because war-planning is not the way. If you'd like to join in solidarity with the bishops and ask our leaders to think of another way, please visit their statement and sign it.

My Becoming

"What is present to me is what has a hold on my becoming."

This is the first line of one reflection a few days ago at Sacred Space, a daily online devotional site of the Irish Jesuits.

I think of the things that were present to me today: doubts of my ability to do good news reporting, and luggage I carry from previous hurts. I read beautiful poetry today by Galway Kinnell. I rested for a few minutes in the thoughts that someone special in my life cares for me. I spent time with my sister at the Frothy Monkey. The things that stayed with me all day long, however, were my doubts and my baggage. I meditated on self-deprecation. What am I becoming today?

"I reflect on the presence of God always there in love, amidst the many things that have a hold on me. I pause and pray that I may let God affect my becoming in this precise moment."

"And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit." (2 Cor. 3:18)

250 Words About Waiting

This week’s devotional is titled “waiting to receive instructions.” The Scriptures and prayers are centered around waiting. It’s quite appropriate, as we are in the seventh week of Easter waiting for the celebration of the Holy Spirit’s arrival on Pentecost Sunday.

Think of all of the waiting we do in the Christian calendar year. Advent—waiting for the arrival of the Christ child. Lent—waiting for the crucifixion and waiting three more days for the wonderful resurrection. Then immediately we begin waiting for the Spirit. For those of us who don’t like waiting, we finally get ordinary time until November when we’re not waiting for anything.

But we are. As believers of Christ we cannot go a day without waiting because we believe in the promise of Christ’s return. I empathize with the early church who waited more expectantly than we. While they waited for the return of Christ, they never saw him.

It must have been frustrating. We hear promises that our scarlet sins will be made like snow (Is. 1:18), though we see our sins ever before us. We hear every knee shall bow to praise God (Phil. 2:9-11), though we know so many do not believe. We hear that swords will become plowshares (Is. 2:4). But we know war in Iraq, conflict in the Congo, genocide in Sudan. So we wait.

But the early Christians teach us a lesson. We are people of hope, after all, and hope carries such high expectations. Hope waits, already claiming the victory!

Jesus, You are Knocking

A man and his stench come asking for new clothes.
He has no family, no job, no help.
Jesus, you are knocking.
Let us open wide the gates.

A woman and two children escaped a harmful home.
They have no money, no shelter, no help.
Jesus, you are knocking.
Let us open wide the gates.

A man and his empty stomach come in need of warm soup.
He has no food, no hope, no help.
Jesus, you are knocking.
Let us open wide the gates

We wait for you to come again but ignore you when
you are clothed as the least of these.
Jesus, when you are knocking,
we want to open wide the gates.

"We are indifferent to the message, taking only the pleasant and agreeable out of it and forgetting the serious aspect, that the God of the world draws near to the people of our little earth and lays claim to us." -Bonhoeffer
"Behold, I stand at the door . . . Open wide the gates!" -Psalm 24:7