Poverty and The Power Surge

Part of being pastor, in fact part of being a follower of Christ, is seeking to feel the pulse of the community that is beloved by God. The Gospel is making each one of us more relevant to the communities in which we live. The gospel is transforming, good news that matters to the left-out and the left-down, and it is calling each of us to make a difference. When Christ is aware of the suffering that is pressed upon the people in the margins, Christ brings healing. Would the body of Christ in our time, the church, be held to a lower standard?

Luke 13:10-17

Common English Bible (CEB)

Healing on a Sabbath

¹⁰ Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. ¹¹ A woman was there who had been disabled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and couldn’t stand up straight. ¹² When he saw her, Jesus called her to him and said, “Woman, you are set free from your sickness.” ¹³ He placed his hands on her and she straightened up at once and praised God.

¹⁴ The synagogue leader, incensed that Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, responded, “There are six days during which work is permitted. Come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath day.”

¹⁵ The Lord replied, “Hypocrites! Don’t each of you on the Sabbath untie your ox or donkey from its stall and lead it out to get a drink? ¹⁶  Then isn’t it necessary that this woman, a daughter of Abraham, bound by Satan for eighteen long years, be set free from her bondage on the Sabbath day?” ¹⁷ When he said these things, all his opponents were put to shame, but all those in the crowd rejoiced at all the extraordinary things he was doing.

I was in Jack in the Box Wednesday morning waiting for my appointed meeting time with one of us when I was engaged in an eye opening conversation.  A disabled vet from the Vietnam era came to the counter in a wheel chair; his legs were amputated as a result of diabetes. (Just a note, this condition is very common in poor communities) He knew the teller at the restaurant who was a retirement aged Euro-American woman. The question was, “how is this new healthcare system going to hit you?” Her answer was more than disappointing.  She recalled that her period of unemployment had finally found relief and that she was happy to be off of the unemployment rolls. It was exceptionally hard for a woman her age to secure a job.  Unfortunately, she was about to file unemployment again. The corporation that she was working for realized that full time employees would require health coverage. In response, they were turning a large percentage of their positions into part- time positions. As a result she would need unemployment benefits until she could secure a second job that held together body and soul.

Who is keeping the poor and the infirmed bound? I wonder to myself. We complain that governments never doing anything to help us. When they do, are we supporting obstacles that bind us up into cycles of scarcity and need? Are we part of a system that sustains and/or creates poverty? Do I need my burger to be so cheap that corporations are justified in creating a margin that artificially inflates poverty?

The power surge is not limited to corporations – in many cases the governmental systems are contributing to the injustices at the margin. Here is the news. “In 36 mostly red states, HHS will be enrolling people via online applications at healthcare.gov because (some) local Republicans have refused to set up state-run exchanges. For these states and their largest cities, HHS listed premiums and subsidies called a tax credit. The credits go directly to insurers monthly; they are not refunded in a lump sum after filing one’s yearly taxes. (Rosenfeld, 2013)” I understand that the argument about whether Affordable Health Care is a benefit is not over, but it seems that proving the point is a tug of war in which the poorest among us are the rope.

Lower to moderate income households are well cared for in theory.” The subsidies would be given to households earning between 100 percent and 400 percent of the federal poverty level. In 2013, that’s individuals making $11,490 to $46,000; two-person families earning between $19,530 and $78,120; and four-person families making between $23,550 and $94,200. These thresholds are revised yearly by the government. (Rosenfeld, 2013)” This looks promising, but the biting truth is that we are still creating cracks through which the poorest among us will slip.

Here is an obvious shortfall.  “There is one big exception to this rosy scenario that will unfairly impact an estimated 5.5 million truly poor people, thanks to (some) Republican governors and the U.S. Supreme Court. Obamacare expanded Medicaid’s eligibility to all people whose incomes were under the federal poverty line. (Medicaid is the state-run program for the poor and people with disabilities.) The Supreme Court ruled that states could opt out of Obamacare’s Medicaid expansion when it upheld the law. Twenty-two red states have done so, according to the Urban Institute. As a result, there’s a coverage gap in these states because people’s sub-poverty line incomes are still too high to qualify for Medicaid, but not high enough to trigger the tax credits to help them buy policies in the Obamacare marketplaces. (Rosenfeld, 2013)”

 Are we really willing to allow this argument to take place on these particular theaters of conflict? The poorest among us – those struggling at the very edge of economic health, those whose capabilities, or social locations, or arbitrary circumstances have pushed them into an eddy of financial stress, are being bound and we might be tempted to blame the system and let it continue. What’s your reading? Would Jesus, the one we follow, buck the system and set the suffering free? Shouldn’t left-down and left-out be a temporary condition on the kin_dom of God? Sometimes those in the gathering place are protecting their assets more than caring for the sick. Jesus finds it necessary to challenge this. Do we?

Mind the Gap

Through grateful eyes, the world is a brand new place.  Just the fact that I was in London made me aware of the great gifts that I have had access to in this life, the great people that God has put in my path, and the great challenges that give me purpose. If you are reading this, you should know that when I am thanking God, I am thanking God for you in my life.  I also feel fortunate that among the necessities that I packed for the trip, I packed my gratitude. This helped me to have an amazing experience and to experience all that was before me in light of who I am and whose I am.

The first six days was an introduction to the international varieties of protestant, religious expression. I met people from Sweden, Africa, England, Ireland, New Zealand, Australia, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, Canada, & I went all the way to England to meet some of my colleagues from here in California. I talked to people that served state run churches and learned there were churches with 9000 members and 60 in attendance on Sunday, pastors could be in charge of issuing social security numbers, and  eliminating the money problem does not eliminate the stresses of ministry. We explored the process that others have been using to create new places for new people and learned that God is already at work outside the walls of our churches, it is exciting to engage a community where God is making new paths, and it is a blessing to have leadership in the church and the conference that intentionally remove obstacles to creating fresh expressions for experiencing God. I remember each day being thankful for my place in the world, the church I serve, and the opportunities. 

In contrast to this intense learning experience was the serenity that surrounded me. Cambridge was built on the river Cam. I bet one of the first structures was a bridge; hence Cam bridge. The community still had structures from the 11^th century.  Colleges were built along the river starting in the 15^th century with “chapels” that would rival any cathedral in the United States. I was able to walk through the community at dusk; feeling like I was alone in a giant museum. I was able to kayak up river and see the hills and plains that were the original landscape thousands of years ago. I was able to bask daily in sunny weather that was rare to the area; even la

y in a putting boat while being slowly guided on the historic tour of the village. Thriving – no word says it better. Even though this was a place of tremendous conflict in Saxon time, even though this was a base for Oliver Cromwell to lay waste to the structures of religion, even though fires and disasters ravage this village time and again the landscape was awash in splendor. Sure we were there to discuss the cutting edge of the struggle for religion to find an expression that is relevant to the time and we were surrounded by evidence that God had been down this road before. A faithful God that has not failed to reinvent, reimagine & revitalize is clearly at work.

Phase two of the trip was the country mouse tourist wandering the busy streets and tubes of London. Some of my colleagues commented that part of the fun they were having in London was watching my face show the joy and awe that overwhelmed me daily. I was in a perpetual gasp as I experienced giant gilded monuments and buildings, ancient castles, bridges that glowed in the setting sun, beautiful skylines day and night, food and people of unending variety, and the access to the life of theatre on London’s “West End”. I celebrate that I always had colleagues and friends with whom I’ve shared these experiences. I was able to see a play called “Once”. This play won nine Tony awards and it was the best live musical performance that I have ever seen. I laughed constantly at Monty Python’s “Spamalot”. This place is amazing. Walk past five groups of people and you’re liable to hear five different languages. We ate food from a new part of the world at every meal. There was a wonderful person named Sybille from Germany who had connection to Glide Church  in San Francisco, even though she lives in London (small world, right). We met because the pastor of Glide, Rev. Theon Johnson, was with us. She offered to guide our group through London for several days. What a gift! She knew just how to make our experience of London rich and full.

Yet another contrast existed on this trip. This was the first time that I have been outside of the country on the anniversary of 9/11. The world seemed to be on the verge of war once again as tensions mounted in Syria. Broken people and broken communities erupted in violence in the Washington Navy yard. Protesters drummed in the streets of London to bring awareness to the extrajudicial killings in India coupled with tyrannical injustice. We were experiencing and enjoying splendor while so many suffered violently in the world around us.

A museum in London had an eye opening display. Its goal was to demonstrate a progression of the stages of living in community as mid-class members of society in London from 3000bce to the present. The early societies would dig home foundations in the dirt. These foundations were organized in a circle. The circle would create community, protection, and sharing of resources for survival. If the community thrived it grew; and when it grew the community would set up again with a wider circle. The Bronze Age brought tools and of course weapons. One of the earliest findings in London’s “civilization” record was a stockpile of bronze tools. Is the hoarding and piling of resources a sign? Later communities would have craftsman and craftsman would take apprentices. The apprentices would live as members of the family in the household. Once the crafts started to create wealth, households began to separate. Servants and apprentices would live on the bottom floor, while the family would live and eat separately on the floors above. Is wealth always a wedge? Then came the Victorian time, it seemed like instead of the circle growing wider, the gap between those who had and those without grew cavernous. 

 

At least a hundred times a day we were reminded to” mind the gap”. “Mind the gap” was on T-shirts, road signs, and spoken words of caution in London’s tube system. “Mind the Gap” was what London veterans said to me as I prepared to go. So far, the most common question that I get about the trip is “did you ‘Mind the gap’?”. I am not sure that what I saw in this museum was the civilizing of London. I certainly appreciate how the early settlers grew the circle wider. They did not seem to have much of a gap to mind. Is there a gap between our struggles and God’s struggles? Is there a gap between people who share a common community, a common space, a common time, and a common creator? Is there a gap that we are not minding? Are there signs for caution and awareness? Food for action.

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Category 5 Gratitude Storm

I can think of a few times in my life when I felt gratitude so deeply that all of my other emotional responses to life failed to distract me. The day I held Kaela for the first time; it was the middle of the night, in what seemed like a vacant hospital. I was ushered out of surgery with my healthy daughter, while Leann was being cared for by able doctors. It was just me and my daughter; meeting each other’s eyes for the first time. We would start the journey of learning to care for one another. Step one was here – just hold her, keep her warm, make her feel the promise of enduring love. Then again watching Emily dance to the song, “I Can Only Imagine,” on Easter Sunday. She smiled so brightly when she notice the tears in my eyes while she danced a Polynesian interpretation that she learned from the Hingano family and Dance for Christ. I was shocked that such beauty and elegance existed so close to me, so huggable; delicate yet powerful, so filled with hope and wonder. These moments happen to us, I hope you can recall a few in your life also. I have a name for them – The Category 5 Gratitude Storm.

Sometimes though, the gratitude storm sneaks up on me like a rising tide. It’s not just one thing. The tide rises when each of the acts of grace and mercy finds its way into my life and my awareness. Suddenly I’m swimming in gratitude and the emotional coatings of anxiety, fear, uncertainty, & dred are rinsed off of me; a dissipating film floating on the surface of an ocean of thanksgiving. That is what is happening to me now.

The bishop gave me an exciting new charge to keep. The United Methodist Church of Merced was in need of a new pastor. At the same time, I was in need of a new place to call home both spiritually and physically. I feel like home is just what I have found. The church is filled with ambitious and insightful leaders. We have chosen to be a place of full inclusion – a reconciling congregation that doesn’t just welcome all varieties of people, but also cherishes them just the way they are. This means that we stand against discrimination that occurs both inside the church and out – injustices that are based on race, ability, sexual orientation, economic circumstances, or even the wrongs of the past. Someone mentioned even before I arrived that the identity of “reconciling” was outlawed by denominational judicial hearing; no doubt, hoping I was here to fix the problem. I joyfully responded that I don’t believe the bishop put me here to fix this church. I am here to support this church and I am excited to be part of this reconciling congregation.  The tide of gratitude would rise as I opened my heart, my ministry, and my life to this wonderful congregation.

I wrote earlier about healing in a pool of wisdom, which is to this day a source of great joy. Finding a place in the centering prayer community has been a place of spiritual growth for me. So many times, the pastor thinks that they are in place to be the teacher, to be the scholar, or to be the shepherd of the flock. I know that I am here to learn every bit as much as I am here to share the experiences and hope that I have found on my path. I have found a community of people that pray by letting go, they pray with their intention to be available for God, and they pray with their consent to allow God some space in their being, their consciousness, and their lives. Taking time for this kind of prayer is life changing. The community that is already engaged here is deeply spiritual and grounded; a foundation that anchors the various churches and the community in which they serve. I feel my foundation firming too. The tide of gratitude certainly rises again as these connections are made and appreciated.

Only one month after my arrival in this new place an anniversary crossed my path. On August 4^th, I celebrated the gift of eleven years in sobriety. It is probably impossible to describe how deeply this affects me and the people that I love. The lives affected by addiction are spiraling into destruction and out of control – every day seems to contain the potential for more grief, more loss, and unimaginable dred. Recovery is often illusive and frequently sabotaged by the powers of unwillingness, hopelessness, and fear. Yet when recovery happens, it’s like opening the door to a brand new world – opportunities that had no chance at existing in the old world sprout like wild flowers in the new world. Here are some of the flowers that I picked in the last eleven years; finishing a bachelor’s degree, learning to preach as a lay person, coaching  my daughter’s softball team, celebrating a 25^th wedding anniversary, experiencing several walks to Emmaus, entering ordination candidacy, learning to grow through mentorship, graduating seminary, serving as pastor, seeing my children graduate with honors, having a relationship with the children that I have truly nurtured, breaking through the walls of depression,  and reaching a healthy weight. Most or all of this would not be possible in the old world and that was just naming a few. The tide of gratitude is rising quickly now; especially as I realize the powerful nature of grace in these gifts.

Finally, acceptance has put me over the top. One of the most basic needs in each and every one of us is the need to belong. The people that I have met in the community of Merced have tended so masterfully to this need in the lives of Emily and me. I often leave church with more food than I came with; fresh produce from a man’s garden, sweet corn purchased with me in mind at a local produce stand, delicious pies and cakes baked just because. I have been invited into homes and introduced to leaders in business communities, health care communities, and faith communities. I have seen my daughter welcomed in friendships, on sports teams, and to the most amazing school that I have ever seen. I couldn’t feel neglected or unsupported in my wildest dreams. Even my car was mysteriously and anonymously cared for by an act of grace that brings tears to my eyes. In the homes, nursing facilities, and adult living environments, I am greeted with open arms. In the breakfast at dawn club (men’s bible study), there is always a plate for me. When your heart is burdened with circumstances that cause us worry and grief, you rely on me for open ears and relational prayer. I don’t just feel welcome. I feel wanted and I feel needed. The tide of gratitude is in and it is overwhelming.

As if there needed to be more, the tide keeps on rolling. Each week we are able to gather for worship and communion. Some have noticed the joy on my face as I serve the bread of connection, the bread of renewal, and the bread of life to each of you. There is no greater joy. But I have to tell you that when you respond back to me after receiving the sacrament with words like; “praise God, God bless you, my baptism matters, YOU are beloved,” or even with a twinkling in your eye, something changes in me. I feel a charge of energy. I just want to dance. You really make a difference.

That’s a gratitude storm. When you’re hit by one, little else matters – problems seem petty. “Thank You,” isn’t enough. It’s hard to know what to do next; maybe just dance.

Enjoy God, 

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Burdens Burdens Everywhere

Success, failure, good fortune & bad; would you believe that these are all sources of unbearable weight? We seem to carry these weights with us throughout our lives and they have a tremendous impact. The burdens in our lives are ever-present on our minds because they are so demanding. The burdens want to be our first thought. The burdens want to be the fulcrum on which our decisions are made. The burdens won’t stop nagging us until they have the deed to our lives – they want to be our very purpose. So what does it mean to lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us?  (Heb12:1)

John Wesley was a successful, scholarly student of theology. He went to Oxford in 1726 and only two years later he was ordained an Anglican priest. He spoke and wrote in Greek, Latin and French. He founded clubs that would promote holy behavior throughout London. He had notions of improving the Anglican Church; reigniting the fire of faith, reimagining a church that had an impact on the world. And as his successes began to emerge, so did the heightened expectations. He would have high expectations of himself; he would be the subject of high expectations from his followers and from his leaders. Can you imagine? How must the weight be piling on in this merely human life? How must the notion and expectation of success be trying to occupy the prime spaces in his life?

General Oglethorpe had a proposal that would change John Wesley’s life. Come to the colony in Georgia; bring the savage natives to Christ; walk among the humbler classes, and be a spiritual leader. Wesley had been ordained for 8 years already. Maybe this was the opportunity of his lifetime.

Oh my, this was a life changing event alright. Even the trip over to his new charge was a metaphor for the path ahead. The ship across the pond took nearly five months and it was anything but a Bon Voyage. One night, he was in such a horrific storm that the mast on the ship was broken; high seas crashing over the decks, powerful rain, and a ship tossed side to side like meaningless driftwood in an angry torrent. Is it any wonder that a traveler like John Wesley would be afraid for his life – shaken to the core? I imagine him either screaming or wanting to scream, either crying or wanting to cry; clinging to anything that would make him feel secure, wide eyed for the next clear path to safety. At this moment John noticed a group of passengers singing. They were the Moravians – a faith community from Germany. They remained in good cheer; singing songs of faith each one a steady source of confidence to the other. But, to John they were a reality check: did he even have faith? Why was he so weak? He felt the crisis of the soul as well as the crisis of the storm.

The journey on land got no better. He was never in his element. As a priest with high church notions and a very particular and purposeful approach to life, John would rarely experience a kindred spirit. He was in a colony that had Portuguese Jews, outcaste debt holders from England, Scotch Highlanders, and the poor from Salzburg. Among the colonist, he felt that he was to lead spiritually among “the Humbler Class.” His parish would span 200 miles along the coast and seemingly infinity to the west; where he would be faced with people whose language, culture, and customs he did not know. He had a charge to keep alright, but could he bring himself to lead this flock? Did he realize that in order to lead, you first have to love?

 

Maybe that was his thought when he met Sophia Hopkey – the object of his affections since the stormy times in the boat. Will storms never cease? Throughout the time Wesley spent in the colony, there was always an awkward space in his life created by his feelings for Sophia. They were thought to have made promises to one another about marriage, but John found it necessary to abstain from her company for the sake of his spiritual tasks. Her response was to marry another – a heart wrenching blow to John. Five months after her wedding, Sophia enters the church where John was serving communion. (Remember how the burdens want to take their place front and center in our lives?) John is faced with offering communion to Sophia – a troubled man with a troubled heart; a troubled woman with her hands open at the table set by Jesus. And he makes the decision to deny her communion; creating shame, whispers, and embarrassment.

 

John is at a low point in his life; looking around at the carnage created by the burdens of success, failure, good fortune, and bad. The mast was broken on the ship, which brought him. Likewise, more masts were broken. The mast was broken on his notions of ministry to the colony. The mast was broken on his designs for marriage. The mast was broken on his spiritual integrity at the communion table. 

The weight of our burdens is unbearable at times, but the good news is that we don’t need to carry this weight. I have had broken masts in my life as well; haven’t you. Recently I had a few and my father had some wise words. He said, “I guess that was an ego death son.” (wise words aren’t always soothing, by the way) The fact that he was right even made it worse. In this sense, my ego is a self-made understanding of my identity - the result of my hard work. We can work hard and be rich or fail at being rich. We can work hard and be popular or fail to be popular. We can work hard and be accepted or fail to be accepted.(on and on)This is the mind-made self, with its heaviness, its problems, that lives between the unsatisfying past and the fearful future. The fact is, we have an identity even when we don't create one for ourselves. Beloved. When we live by the identity of grace, the identity that was given and not self-made or mind-made, we live by faith - we embody beloved and we see the beloved identity in others.

When we live by the ego, we die by the …right? It seems like the burdens with unbearable weight are also burdens born by living by the ego. There is more good news; bearing the weight of these ego burdens is a choice that we make. As we read the words of Hebrews, we read an invitation – Lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us. It is an invitation to live by faith instead of living by ego.

Two years after the colony experience, John Wesley would have his “heart strangely warmed” at the Aldersgate Church. He was listening to someone read Luther’s preface to Romans – a document that highlights the value of faith. He decided that faith was something that he had and faith was something for which he could live (it would be his purpose). Instead of his burdens having the deed to his life, he gave the deed to faith. John Wesley would spend the next forty years walking in faith: do you think it mattered? Do you think Christ was revealed? Would it matter if I did the same thing?

We will talk this week about what happens when faith has the deed to our lives. I can’t wait to hear your stories of faith; nothing brings me more hope and joy.

Enjoy God,

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