a greater risk

Tonight I am going to preach on the story of Jesus' first public miracle in John 2:1-12, "From Water to Wine." After a week of wrestling with the call to seek justice in our world through organizing and educating our religious communities, I can't help smile at Jesus' reluctance to perform his first public miracle. The Message version quotes Jesus responding to his mother's request for his help saying, "Is that any of our business?" Following it up with "This isn't my time mother, don't push me."

Jesus, I embrace your reluctance. I wonder if your compliance only a line later suggests that perhaps you too were hesitant (maybe even a little afraid?) to make a choice to publicly 'announce' your role in this world knowing there would inevitably be consequences. For, it seems very clear to me at this point that Jesus' miracle was much more than a simple gesture of hospitality but also a bold political act. A challenge to the current system of power. An announcement of the coming Kingdom of God which posed a direct challenge to the legitimacy of the Roman Empire and the authority of all earthly Kings.

On the final day of the Young Clergy Leadership Forum during chapel service we were all given an opportunity to lift up our prayer concerns during a time of meditation and communal prayer. As I sat in the short wooden pew the Spirit gave to me these words to lift up, "for all those who find in our denomination closed doors and closed minds, may they be granted justice." I sat there silent. Almost in tears because I hadn't really spoken up all week and now I feel like I should say this bold and potentially upsetting prayer request! "Good grief, Holy Spirit!" I couldn't do it. I didn't do it.

It seemed like a glaring absence of discussion throughout the week. The ongoing, purposeful discrimination of people based on sexual orientation upheld in our Social Principles as being "incompatible with the Christian faith." In that pew it all hit me at once that the only thing that was incompatible for me was the message the Spirit had spoken to my heart and the the discriminatory practices of a church claiming to have Open Doors, Open Hearts, and Open Minds for all of Gods people. In my silence I resigned to the truth that I did not want to face the consequences of such a statement...and in my privilege I confess that this is a choice I was able to make.

Rosa Parks once said that she had "learned over the years that when one's mind is made up, this fear diminishes." I bet that in some ways this is what happened to Jesus at the wedding. Thrown into a situation which was not intentional nor planned he decided to claim his ministry through action. In a similar manner, I believe what will be expected of us will be done in a space for which we can hardly predict and rarely prepare. It is in our ability to trust the nudging of our hearts and the movement of the Spirit towards a greater manifestation of mercy and justice in this world that I believe God will judge us on in this life and the Life that follows.

My prayer for myself as I ask for God's forgiveness for my inaction is that in this life and the next, although I may fail many times in my efforts to follow Christ's example, may the question "why were you silent?" never be words which burdens my ears. In the end, I believe what pushed Jesus into action is just what I have come to understand this week. That the greatest risk of acting alongside a God which is still speaking to us is not the ridicule of our peers or the rejection of our churches, but the disappointment of a God who relies on our willingness to listen and act that the Spirit's presence may remain visible in our broken world.

A Loud Silence

After spending three days with other young clergy from all over the United States on Capitol Hill listening to amazing speakers and conversing with one another about important social justice issues, I feel overwhelmed with what direction to go with my blog now. There are so many thoughts stewing in that crock pot part of my head just waiting to process. So many issues with so many consequences. As almost all our presenters stated in some way during their talks, if you start to talk about issues of justice you are sure to find some trouble in your congregations...

All the young clergy knew this was true before any of them said it. We may be young but we are not stupid. Looking across the room I knew everyone was thinking the same "oh, crap" thought as we willingly sat and absorbed the messages of justice and mercy being shared while simultaneously marveling at how in the world we would ever be able to effectively share all of this with our congregations.

All churches have positions on social issues. In the United Methodist Church these are organized into something called "The Social Principles." If you have never heard of them it is probably because at some point a clergy person(s) made a conscious decision to steer clear of controversy. And since The Social Principles are positions with political implications, they are inevitably controversial.

As we prepared to go home from the 'safe zone' of the Methodist building to our churches that Wednesday afternoon we all sat in the deep anxiety of what direction we should go next. Knowing that in our education and dialogue we had been made accountable in a new way to honor our calls to serve Christ and the church and that in this accountability we must now find ways to be true to all dimensions of our call, seeking justice included.

So as I sit here tonight reflecting once more on our call to seek justice here is my question:

When did we become afraid to speak for justice on behalf of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ? At what point did we trick ourselves into believing that we did not hold a political office? And what honor does it bring the sacrifice of his life for our salvation to neglect these social issues because of there political implications? To stand silent on issues of global poverty, environmental degradation, and the proliferation of violence in our world? Do we not see that our silence is also being heard? And that in this silence we are becoming invisible to God's creation?

I stand with you, my friends, also afraid. As a lamb among wolves I shutter to think of the consequences of advocating for justice when it will predictably outrage many and attract very few. Yet, I am reminded this past week of the cost of discipleship and of the power of God's grace and love on even the most hardened heart. And the call to walk forward with humility, to seek justice and to cultivate mercy with even the most un-like-minded of our fellow followers.