hope in the face of death.

Both Kyle and I were on facebook last night after the news of Osama bin Laden's death was announced. We were both fascinated by the variety of responses. And this is not just the case with our circles of friends, but across the country-- as you can see from reading the variety of celeb reactions to the news here.

I have to say for the most part, I was really deeply touched by the way most people I know paused and thoughtfully reflected about what it means to celebrate the death of a fellow human being, even if that person is a dangerous criminal. As my seminary Professor Rev. Dr. Jay Johnson put it, there is an important "distinction between not being sorry someone is dead and celebrating that someone is dead." With the relief that there is one less terrorist leader in the world, should also come the realization that many many human lives have been lost, and the death of one more may not mean the end to violence, but may suggest that we are only perpetuating a cycle of death.

I've seen many reflections on what a Christian response to this death might be, including a silent candle-lit vigil for all the lives who have been lost, and many beautifully written prayers for peace. I've read many voices raising up the importance of responses of love and peace, even in the face of death and violence. I've read reminders that the Bible calls people of Christian faith to love enemies, and never rejoice over a fallen enemy. Many others have reminded me that we are called to be people of mercy and restorative, reconciling justice, rather than people of hatred, retaliation, or vengeance. Many others have recalled the words of great leaders like Ghandi and Martin Luther King Jr. calling nations toward love and peace.

Another friend of mine who does not consider themselves to be religious, posted this wonderful article from the Huffington post. There the writer points out, "We will only have peace when we stop the cycle of jubilation over acts of violence." Which, I think is one of the most wise things I've read in the past 24 hours.

”I will mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that" is actually the quote I have seen re-posted more than any other by friends and acquaintances. That fact gives me hope for the future of our country. The thoughtful theological reflections and prayers that reveal insight into a Kingdom of God where death should never win, also gives me hope for the Christian church. And that so many people from so many different perspectives are taking pause to reflect, rather than celebrating death (even the death of a terrible man), gives me hope for the world.

Perhaps, love wins after all.

day 34 - threaded.

In a few weeks, I will be finishing my time at the church that has been my ministry setting for nearly two years. As I approach this ending, and look with anticipation and excitement toward a new beginning, I feel so deeply touched by the relationships I have been blessed with. The young people at Trinity Lutheran Church are some of the most amazing people I have ever met. I have been so lucky to laugh with them, learn and serve beside them, worship with them, listen to their stories, and just be a witness to the amazing presence of God in each of them.

Over the last few years, and most especially the last few weeks, I have been able to share some incredible experiences. What I've been noticing lately, is how it has so little to do with the program. I mean, it is important to put time in care into planning worship and other experiences so that they have meaning. Planning is a central part to any healthy ministry. But the real beauty is in the unplanned moments. Staying up late laughing and talking about nothing and everything with Jr. High girls in a cabin. Eating pizza at Cal's campus or exploring bookstores with the High Schoolers. Those moments over coffee where we somehow move from talking about our favorite movie, to a funny story, to the deepest parts of ourselves and our faith.

In ministry, I learn more and more that my deepest regrets are not the times that didn't go according to plan, but the times I planned too much-- especially at the beginning of my ministry. Like so many ministers, I felt so much pressure to find the right program... I wish I hadn't so often forgotten that packing in games and programs and discussion topics and worrying if they would be well received, achieves little compared to just being with people. Listening to them, laughing with them, learning from them. In the end, ministry is the relationships we built, not the program we planned. I seem to be learning over and over that E. M. Forster's simple words, "Only connect," is the deepest truth of all.

So, for two years we have journeyed together, and now our lives are threaded together. I will feel a connection with each of them even when we don't see each other, and even if we someday lose touch. Now we are a part of one another, and because of that connection I feel more whole, and more connected with God... as if by being in relationship and community we are embodying something of Divinity here and now. We are a living, breathing Kingdom of God.

"We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads..."

- Hermon Melville

day 33 - poems in the sky.

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky,

We fell them down and turn them into paper,

That we may record our emptiness.

~Kahlil Gibran

day 31 - go and tell.

This Sunday I started working with my High School youth group to plan our annual Youth Led Easter Sunrise Service. As we read the Easter story, the theme that came alive for us was "Come and See, Go and Tell." We talked about how the encounter with the resurrected Christ, changes you in a way that allows you to be transformed and share that encounter with others through the way you live. The resurrection isn't merely a personal, spiritual hope, but a life-altering world changing one. It doesn't just change your heart, it changes everything, including the way you live. You are now a part of the resurrection story, and as you go, your life keeps telling the story.

I think that the encounter with the resurrected Christ at the tomb changes us so radically because it reveals that destruction and death do not win. It gives us hope that we do not have to live under the law of death, freeing us to go the way of love. Fr. Steve Hassett shared this thought from Ghandi with me, and I think it summarizes the principle of Easter better than I ever could:

"I have found that life persists in the midst of destruction and therefore there must be a higher law than that of destruction. Only under that law would a well-ordered society be intelligible and life worth living. And if that is the law of life, we have to work it out in daily life. Whenever you are confronted with an opponent, conquer him with love. In this crude manner I have worked it out in my life. That does not mean that all my difficulties are solved. Only I have found that this law of love has answered as the law of destruction has never done."

Life persists. Love wins. This is the message we go with. This is the message we tell with our lives.

day 29 - the starry dynamo.

I just finished watching the film Howl. I loved it... mostly because I love hearing poetry read. The whole film isn't really a narrative, or a biography, as much as it is just a visual poem. The most poignant parts for me were not the trial it depicts or the interviews, but the moments where Ginsberg (James Franco) reads portions of the poem. The poem comes alive, and you are able to hear the rhythm and music of it. Parts of the poem are also illustrated by animation based on the illuminated poems Ginsberg published with artist Eric Drooker. The images and sounds evoke feelings and meanings beyond the words themselves. Spoken word is a powerful, powerful thing. The music of language seems to get somehow beyond the words themselves, digging beyond the surface of what is defined.

I hadn't read Howl in a long time, so in some ways it was like experiencing it for the first time. The musical chaos of Ginsberg's howling verse seemed to have power I didn't remember. He wrote, "angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night." And as I heard those words, I felt their yearning for that heavenly connection, I saw the blank eternal workings of night. I saw the wild beauty of the desperation with words like: "battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light." The words batter the listener with their sad, pounding song.

The film just reminded me of why I love poetry so much. How is can evoke desperation, passion, loss, drug-haze, hope, and anguish and all that is beyond words as well. You can listen to Howl in all it's homo-erotic, chaotic, drug-induced, obscene, passionate, creative, desperate glory below or read it here.

day 28 - like incense before you.

Growing up in the Methodist tradition, then attending a Pentecostal youth group in high school, I did not have much exposure to sung liturgy. I attended Catholic Mass occasionally when family friends were visiting, but I preferred the more relate-able contemporary worship. Then in college attending mass, hearing the words of the Eucharist sung in Catholic Mass suddenly communion was full of a deeper power and mystery. As the priest sung, "Let us proclaim the mystery of faith," I felt a beauty beyond language--as he sang those notes, I felt the mystery of which he sung.

As an adult working in Anglican, Lutheran and Episcopal congregations I have had many encounters with sung liturgy, even having the opportunity to lead it-- some of these experiences were deep and meaningful, and others fell flat. But I believe there is power in this ancient worship. That singing the same words again and again, and creating new liturgies that are put to melodies, creates a different experience than words that are only written or spoken.

One of my calls in ministry, I think, is to find ways of infusing worship, both contemporary and traditional forms, with presence and meaning. I believe that when we gather for worship as the body of Christ, we are really meant to embody Christ. We are called to be authentically Christ's presence-- mysterious, incarnational, miraculous. Part of this means that our worship should not be boring, but overflowing with passion, love, and life. Too often Christian leaders make the mistake of assuming that contemporary=relevant and traditional=boring. But presence infused worship can take many forms, and I think one of the most beautiful is sung liturgy. I am excited for all that I am learning about this tradition, and anxious to see how I can infuse elements of this tradition into Methodist worship.

As part of our Lenten journey, each Wednesday night at Trinity we gather for a short worship service of evening prayer from published by Holden Village. Over the past several weeks, I've been learning this liturgy in preparation for the worship I led last week. What I love about sung liturgy is the way the melody becomes embedded within you. While I'm doing the daily tasks of writing e-mails, doing dishes, reading, or grocery shopping, suddenly I find myself humming the melody, or silently thinking those words. This silent song becomes a prayer that shrouds my whole day, helping me to have a sense that all I do is prayer, that each moment is a part of the great song of God.

One of the melodies that I have been walking in the past few days is "Let my prayer rise up like incense before you." I love this line from the psalms, and how sensory it becomes when we lift those notes and they seem to rise and rise like incense. Images like this inspire me to infuse more imagery, poetry, songs, art and energy into worship. I dream of creating worship that allows people to feel themselves being lifted into the presence of the Holy in a mystical way.

day 27 - validation.

Tonight, I had a wonderful date night with my sweet husband. We ate dinner and and watched a movie.... and we parked in a garage where we got a little ticket that we had to get validated

and that made me think of this great video that makes me smile every time. I hope it makes you smile too. Happy Friday!