Keep Marching

Exodus 34:29-35

2 Corinthians 3:18-4:6

Mark 9:2-9

 

In the story we heard from Exodus,

Moses goes up Mt. Sinai and he receives the two tablets-

on which the 10 Commandments are written.

 

As he turns around to talk to the people, though,

they are blinded – they’re unable to look at him,

because his face is shining so brightly for having spoken with God.

 

His face is too glorious, too bright, too awesome.

 

So Moses has a solution…

He uses a veil.

He removes the veil when he talks to God,

but when he talks to the people, he places the veil over his face

so they aren’t blinded by divine glory.

 

…..

 

My sister’s friend has a 9 year old son named Jamie.

Just before Christmas, Jamie confided in my sister that he really wanted

an R2D2 for Christmas – the little robot from Star Wars.

But Jamie added… he wasn’t going to ask for it because it was

too glorious – too awesome a present.

 

On Christmas morning, Jamie came downstairs,

and there he saw under the tree a box – the size of R2D2.

And he burst into tears –

He couldn’t open it –

He had to leave it wrapped – leave the veil over it –

It was just too awesome, too glorious!

 

….

 

Veils have been used throughout history in different ways.

Someitmes they’ve been used to cover sacred objects – to cover the divine glory like shone from Moses’ face.

 

Some churches even today have a veil

which separates people from the ‘holy of holies,’ where only a special priest can go.

 

If you’ve ever been to a synagogue,

you know that when the Torah is taken out,

it is covered by a finely embroidered veil.

 

Even here today we have vestiges of this tradition –

our communion elements are ‘veiled’ – covered.

Sure, one reason is to protect them from getting flies into the wine!

But also it’s a symbol of what’s underneath – God’s presence.

 

Both women and men have been veiled in various cultures.

We’re familiar with the tradition of bridal veils,

to keep the custom that the bride and groom not see each other before they are married.

 

But in some West African cultures, men are veiled at puberty –

it’s to show modesty in front of their elders.

 

Sometimes the purpose of a veil is to protect the one who is wearing it….

And sometimes the purpose of a veil is to protect those who would look in…

 

In his letter to the Corinthians,

Paul takes this image of a veil to the people of Corinth.

 

As many of you know, Paul was an apostle of Jesus;

he never met Jesus in person himself,

but he traveled all around the Mediterranean by foot and by boat,

setting up small house churches on the way.

 

The context of this letter is that Paul had been to Corinth and set up a church,

and then went on his way.

 

In the meantime, other apostles came to Corinth and began to belittle his ministry.

They were saying that Paul wasn’t flashy enough; he wasn’t charismatic enough;

He wasn’t ‘glorious’ enough.

Paul was talking about persecutions and hardships…

and not the glorious life of a Christian.

The people of Corinth were beginning to listen to these new apostles,

and so Paul responds.

 

He says that the thing these new apostles don’t understand is that

the Christian life isn’t always shining.

These apostles want the people to believe that they can see glory all the time,

life is always awesome, bright things are always happening…

But Paul says that in his experience of the Christian life,

bright things aren’t always happening.

The good news is that by faith we know that

despite the crappy parts of life, God is still there.

The brightness is yet present – but sometimes it is hard to see – it is covered by a veil.

 

Paul says that these new apostles want to pull off the veil,

and see only glory all the time…

but they are only being misled by the ‘gods of this world.’

 

….

 

It is human nature to want to avoid suffering…

to avoid thinking about suffering, to avoid talking about suffering.

 

I read an article in the NY Times by Kate Bowler last week[i]

She’s one of those people who once you’ve heard about them,

it seems like you hear about them over and over again….

She’s written a book and started a podcast,

been on NPR, etc…you get the picture.

 

Anyway, Kate is a professor at Duke Divinity School.

She’s in her late 30’s and 5 years ago she was diagnosed

with stage 4 colon cancer.

Kate has a young son and a husband and loving family

and a job that she loves….

 

Every 3 months she goes in for various scans,

and her doctors help decide the next step in treatment.

She’s not dying but she also knows she’s not cured.

She describes herself in this time of ‘keeping vigil.’

 

Kate has a good social life,

but now, she says, when she goes to social gatherings, many times it’s just awkward.

What do you say to a young woman with a wonderful life who has cancer?

It’s hard.

 

Kate says that people are often uncomfortable with cancer, with suffering.

They want to find something to say that will pull the veil off!

They want to give words which will somehow put aside the veil,

and help Kate and themselves once again see God in all of God’s glory!

 

And so, Kate says, they often say things that she does not find helpful.

Kate has written about these things in her book called, “Everything Happens,”

and she talks about them in her podcast by the same title.

 

There are the minimizers.

You can tell a minimizer when their words begin “Well, at least….”

 

She tells the story of her sister flying on a plane.

She told her seatmate about Kate’s illness,

and the seatmate said something like, “Well at least she didn’t have to flee her homeland to survive the Iranian Revolution!”

 

There are also the spiritual minimizers…

those that say, “Well, you know you will be with God in heaven…”

And Kate sometimes wants to respond, “Well maybe you’d like to go there first!”

 

Then there are those who try to say that her illness

is God’s way of trying to teach her something…

one person solemnly told her, “I hope you have a Job experience….”

 

Kate finds it hardest to deal with those who try to ‘fix it’ somehow –

there’s always another nutritional supplement or doctor to see.

 

But despite these well-intentioned missteps, Kate also says, she’s discovered some people who do know, who do understand.

One day after a chemotherapy treatment,

a nurse sat next to her and said quietly, “You know, I lost a child.”

 

With those words, Kate said she knew this nurse could understand.

In Kate’s words, “She knew what it was like to keep marching

                                long after the world had ended.”

 

To keep marching long after the world has ended.

That is what it was like to live the Christian life, Paul says.

 

Not to insist that God is present only in the remarkable glorious days of our lives,

Not to try to pull off the veil ourselves by minimizing or trying to fix the suffering of others.

But rather to stay present where there is still darkness.

 

It is difficult though…

When the disciples go up the mountain with Jesus and he is transfigured before them,

they too want to stay in that place.

Peter says, “Let’s build a dwelling here!”

 

But Jesus reminds them that God is in the valleys too.

 

Where is God’s glory for you today?

Maybe it’s not on a mountaintop or in a sunrise,

but maybe it’s hidden for a season behind a veil…

waiting for God to once again bring new life out of suffering.

 

When you arrived this morning you received a piece of a veil.

Perhaps you’ll hold onto it.

 

Perhaps in moments when you are surprised by God’s awesomeness, beauty, or wonder…

the veil will remind you that it is a gift not unlike what the disciples experienced –

for a moment the veil has been pulled away.

 

And perhaps when you are taken aback by unspeakable suffering, when the world has ended…

the veil will remind you to keep marching – God is still here.

 

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

[i] https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/26/opinion/sunday/cancer-what-to-say.html

Faith Story – Corry Robb

Faith Story shared in worship by Corry Robb

Good Morning everyone. I wanted to take a couple minutes this morning to talk to you about how excited I am about this upcoming year at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church. There is a LOT to talk about, but this morning I’m going to focus on this congregation’s participation in the Metro DC Synod’s “New Connections” campaign.

 

I’m sure you are all well aware of the tremendous impact our small church has on the Alexandria community – I see so many of you devoting your time, talents, and finances to help live out God’s love for his people. There is no shortage of ways in which we all can lend a hand, and so many of you make that important choice over and over and over again throughout the year. And that is exactly why I am here in front of you today. Because I was once the recipient of the outpouring of love….and more than just once…

 

I’d like to tell you a quick story about a young couple who started attending Good Shepherd back in the late 2000’s after getting married and buying a house in town. They were both working very busy DC jobs that took up crazy amounts of their time (sound familiar?) – to them, Good Shepherd felt like home from the very first visit. God’s love shined through all of you – they knew they belonged here. Well, a few years passed and the couple began having children. Their first daughter, Ellie, arrived much too early (and during a blizzard no less) but was healthy and strong. Little did they know that Ellie’s premature birth would soon pale in comparison to what they were going to experience. 2012 and 2013 brought back-to-back, late-term stillbirths. Why would God let such a thing happen? And why twice, let alone once?! In those dark days, when Carly and I asked ourselves that question over and over again, this church body was there for us – blanketing us with love, reminding us of God’s promise to always be there for us, and bringing us some of the most amazing home cooked meals I have ever tasted. This congregation provided that vital connection that we needed.

 

In that same vein, your church council is recently back from a weekend retreat where we talked about the actions we will be taking throughout the year to reach our goals associated with the DC Synod’s “New Connections Campaign”. In short, our congregation has been challenged to grow and to give.

 

Specific to growing, over the next 3 years we’ve committed to inviting 500 new people to church and other events we are currently planning that we hope will lead to a 10% increase in our congregation. Things like games nights, paint nights, and small groups. We will also be refreshing our website design, church logo, and social media strategy to clearly articulate our activities as well as the impact we are having in the community. We will have service projects such as the food packing event – (wasn’t that amazing?) which will invite the larger community to become involved. We will reach out specifically to military families, the LGBTQ community, and the economically-disadvantaged, just to name a few…

 

But we won’t be able to achieve this growth without your help – so I ask you, please think about who you can connect with, who you can invite, who you can welcome into our church home so that we may have an even greater impact on those around us. This isn’t always easy, and sometimes requires us to reach outside of our comfort zone.

 

In John Chapter 21 we are told of Jesus’ disciples who are out fishing on the Sea of Galilee…and they weren’t exactly having the best luck….

 

Verse 4 – “Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. He called out to them, “Friends, haven’t you any fish?” “No,” they answered. He said, “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish.”

 

Friends, I ask you – throw your nets on the other side of the boat – reach outside of your comfort zone and help us share the good news of God’s word so that others may believe and receive his unconditional love and salvation.

 

The Power of A Welcome

Sermon by Good Shepherd member Shannon Steene

Open our ears, O Lord,

to hear your word and know your voice.

Speak to our hearts and strengthen our wills,

that we may serve you now and always. Amen

 

Good morning, my name is Shannon Steene and many of you know me as Tud. It is good to be here today. When I say here I don’t mean at Good Shepherd Lutheran generally. I’m here fairly regularly. I mean here in the pulpit. You see, normally, I’m looking from the other direction, like you are.

 

So you know, preaching is not my regular gig. But, when I was asked if I would come to share a sermon related to our becoming a Reconciling In Christ congregation, I was a little nervous, but more so intrigued and excited. I am so pleased that our congregation has approved our welcome statement. Because of this, here are my thoughts on being inclusive and the power of a welcome.

 

When I think about a sermon, it usually springs from something in the scripture that has been read, and we clearly have a theme going on from what we heard from the story in Acts as well as in the Gospel reading. What was mentioned dozen times? Eunuchs. Heaven help me. I’m preaching about eunuchs.

 

So, what are they?

 

A modern definition refers to a man who has been castrated, typically early enough in life for this change to have major hormonal consequences. Back in Biblical times, it was a term used to more broadly describe sexual minorities — someone that was gay, transgender or intersex. Back then they didn’t have those labels — only a eunuch.

 

What did eunuchs do and how were they treated in society? It’s no surprise to learn that they were outside the norm. They were unusual. For some like the Ethiopian eunuch we read about in Acts, they in were positions of great authority or trust. For them, being different was an asset. For the Ethiopian eunuch, he was described as a court official in charge of the entire treasury of Candace. Other eunuchs were used to guard the bed chambers of wives or harems. In that environment, they were not a physical threat to the women. Because of the physical changes to their body if they were made a eunuch, the position of chamber guard was not something that you could try out or undertake lightly. It relied on physical and hormonal changes that were not reversible. It was your life’s work. And for other eunuchs, they didn’t have positions of power and influence. They were simply outcasts because they were different.

 

And what about this being an Ethiopian eunuch? So, he’s not only a sexual minority, he’s also a racial minority. Wow. In this story it is clear that he was an outsider on multiple fronts. Finding his community had to be tough. He was forbidden from the Jewish faith. They had a barrier preventing him from being part of the faith simply by who he was. It must have been lonely for him. Is it any surprise that he hears of Jesus and his teaching and gets excited and wants to be baptized? He inquires about what barriers stand between him and being part of the church.  

 

Let’s move forward to right here and now. I am an openly gay man, a sexual minority. Because I know many of you, I know that this isn’t a surprise to you. Being an openly gay member of the Good Shepherd is a major reason I was asked to be on the task force that led our exploration of becoming a Reconciling in Christ congregation. Why should I? What experiences would I have that would round out the perspective on the task force? Let me share some of that context with you.

 

I’ve been a Christian my whole life. Specifically, I’ve been a Lutheran my whole life. My undergraduate studies were done at St. Olaf, an ELCA-affiliated college. In addition I’ve spent two years of my career on the staff of Lutheran Services in America as well as about 20 years leading nonprofits that are secular organizations but both have names that speak to their roots in faith communities — Good Shepherd Housing & Family Services as well as Carpenter’s Shelter. Clearly, my faith is important to me.

 

So is my identity as a gay man. I know that these two elements can be and are in accord, but that isn’t as clear for many people. Being gay and a Christian has helped me see barriers and obstacles associated with the church in ways that weren’t as evident to me when I was living in the closet. Over the years since coming out, I have had many people talk with me about their perceptions of how being gay can’t possibly fit with Christian beliefs. Those people say that they love and care about me and others that are gay, but that they pray for me (and not in a way that feels good or affirming). They are asking God to change me, to make me different. It is mind-blowing to have people that I know and love say things like that to me. Have you ever had someone talk with you about who you are and how they think you should live differently? Be different? It’s awkward. My reaction is usually to create distance from their comments (and often them) to not have it crush me. Their faith acts as an impediment in our relationship. They are entitled to their opinion, and their own faith. But, their faith is different than mine, obviously. I believe I am a child of God, created this way and that my role in this world is to live authentically as I am, loving and serving my neighbor.

 

And, in this vein, I am not alone in wanting to live as I have been created. Many, many gay men and women have had similar experiences, many worse and more flagrant than those I’ve had. I think about the multiple pastors that are friends who have left their churches and their denominations because of the intolerant environment for any idea that LGBTQ people could be people of faith and invited to be part of their church. Two of my pastor friends have such similar stories that it astounds me. They still love God deeply, but they don’t share that love for their former churches. They are still both healing from deep wounds that came from their church leadership roles and being unable to clear the hurdles that the church has put before them.

 

I also have a dear friend that was a beloved organist at a church where despite him being repeatedly told that people love him and that his contribution to the worship life of the church is key to the vitality of the church and its members, his lifestyle was in direct conflict with the written and approved conduct code the church has for its staff. That left him with an underlying vein of fear and uncertainty. The church itself was the root of the fear and uncertainty, despite a tagline of having open minds, open hearts and open doors. As my friend’s sister told him, “well, yes, open doors for the right people.” That crushed him…and he left that church soon after. It was an insurmountable barrier.  

 

I personally have a family member that asks that when I visit I should go back into the closet and not be who I am while there. My identity should be hidden and something we don’t discuss and that I try to avoid in conversations with others in that congregation. Many people there know me well and want to ask how I am and what I’m doing. Frankly, that request from my loved one is wholly unreasonable, as well as unfair. As much as I love this family member, what they ask of me diminishes my desire to visit there and them. I no longer feel at home or comfortable in that place, because it forces me to be someone that I’m really not. There is an obstacle there.

 

This is the context that I know and is so important to understand when thinking about how and why we should live out the idea of removing barriers and being a welcoming congregation. Many LGBTQ people have been hurt by the institutional church, whether intentionally or not. It is a sad reality shared by so many of my gay, bi-sexual, transgendered and questioning brothers and sisters.

 

But, here’s the great part — that’s not us. Good Shepherd Lutheran Church is now demonstrably different. We are openly and overtly welcoming to people that are LGBTQ. I am thrilled by this. We have gone on record saying that it doesn’t matter and shouldn’t be a deterrent from coming and participating in the life of this congregation.  We have pulled down a barrier and for that, I’m grateful.

 

Several months ago when we were in the process of exploring the idea, Pastor Jen preached on the topic. I don’t remember what Scripture her sermon was referencing, but at one point she said in very direct terms something like, “if you are gay or lesbian, bi-sexual, transgendered or questioning, you are welcome here. The church, this church, is a place for you.” Despite my being a member here for many years and for having family and friends that I worship with here regularly, that simple, direct statement hit me like something I hadn’t really heard or felt before here. It put a huge lump in my throat and brought tears to my eyes. It delivered a powerful message of comfort to me, and deepened my belief that this is my church home. There is no obstacle from my being gay.

 

That is exactly what we heard about earlier with Phillip and the Ethiopian eunuch, a sexual minority. The eunuch heard the good news of Jesus and was moved. He asked if there was any obstacle to him being baptized. The eunuch was really trying to understand the rules with this church following Jesus. He was not permitted to be part of the Jewish faith, after all.Would this church be different? It was. There was no impediment for him being baptized. He asked, and there was no need to wait. Phillip and he stopped at the next river and he was baptized.  

 

For sexual minorities today, our being a Reconciling In Christ congregation has similarly cleared the way for them to be part of our church. This is a great first step. Please know that I am comforted by this, and grateful.

 

I look forward to what follows next — continuing to worship together and invite all to join us in our journey of faith. How many of you have noticed that our doors now have a signal on them to the LGBTQ community that drives or walks by? The little rainbow sticker may not have caught your eye, but I see it every time and it makes me smile. It tells that community that their sexual orientation or gender identity doesn’t impede them from being part of our church. Take pride in that every time you see it. We welcome the participation of all ages, races, religious backgrounds, sexual orientations, gender identities, socioeconomic, marital and family statuses, abilities, political affiliations and national origins. (If you haven’t noticed, I’m reading from our welcome statement.)  Our ministry is strengthened by diversity, and we welcome all to join us in worship, fellowship, learning and service. It is with great pride that I tell you that you are a child of God; you are welcome here.

 

There is more work to be done as we work on the next steps of our collective faith journey. As we do that, know that our being intentionally welcoming is powerful, and affirming. We are on the right path, and I look forward to walking it alongside you and others.

 

Amen.  

—–