conflict is a reality

I have now been a part of my church community for three whole years.  It is amazing how fast time has gone by and how much we have accomplished with one another.
As I reflect upon my time in ministry, I feel very blessed. We have been a family. We have worked together. We worship and study and minister. And through it all, there has been almost no conflict!

I have to admit... that last statement makes me a little uncomfortable.  In part, I feel like we have been "playing nice" with one another for some time.  I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I wonder sometimes if I have done too much comforting of the afflicted and not enough afflicting of the comfortable.

During this season of Epiphany we have been exploring Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians and it provided an excellent opportunity to talk about conflict.  While Paul urges the people to be united and not divided in heart, I wanted to make sure that my church heard that conflict, in and of itself, is not bad. It is a reality. We will have differences of opinion. We will have varying perspectives. That is a good thing. How we deal with conflict is what gets us into trouble. Paul's problem is not with the differences, but the fact that their differences have pitted them against one another; he urges them to seek a common unity in the cross of Christ.

As Christians, we have to be able to speak what we know. We have to be able to listen to what other people have to say. We have to dive into the Bible and let it be our foundation. We need to let the Holy Spirit guide us. All of these are good ways of handling conflict.

But we haven’t always let those things be our guide. And past conflicts have in many ways left this congregation tired and worn out. And so we choose not to engage anymore. We choose to be quiet. We choose to not participate.

I was reminded by a friend this week that what will destroy the church is not opposition from without, but indifference within. When we are content to sit back and let others make decisions… when we are afraid to speak the truth… when we don’t feel like we have anything to contribute… that is when the church should be worried.

While I am grateful for not having huge problems to deal with, I also want my congregation to know it is okay to speak up.

Speak up if we are going too slow or too fast. Speak up if you don’t understand. Speak up if you have a question. Speak up if you disagree. Speak up if you agree. Just participate. Be engaged. And know that every single one of you – from the quietest to the most outspoken – is a part of this Body of Christ… each of you are important and vital. Each of you has something to offer. Don’t be afraid.

I wrote those words a few days ago. And this morning, I have been glued to my computer as I watch the protests in Egypt.

Egyptians protest in central Cairo today.
Photograph: Khaled El Fiqi/EPA
(from guardian.co.uk)

A commentator on the live Al Jazeera English broadcast said that these protests are so unprecedented because for so long, the Egyptians sat back and were not involved.  They had become complacent and indifferent.

 

And then, they found their voice. A number of people have said that the Egyptians are no longer afraid. They are welcoming the tanks on the streets... it is a dare to continue protesting and they are taking up the challenge.

 

People from many different walks of life have come together today to protest the regime that has been in control in Egypt. Young and old, religious and non-religious, men and women have taken to the streets all across the country. There are men in suits and in jeans and t-shirts. Conflict is rampant...
 

Some are peacefully present.  Some stop in prayer. Some hurl rocks. Some shout. Even in the face of lines of communication being shut down, they are not afraid to speak and to continue to find ways to get their message out. What has troubled me today is how violent these protests have turned.  Years of pent up anger and frustration are being spilled out through fires and projectiles being thrown. Violence from the police and army and violence from protestors feed on one another. 

 

Today, the conflict that has erupted is good.  The greviances of the people should be heard. But let us pray that both people and government might find peaceful ways of resolving this conflict, of talking and communcating, of finding a way forward.

ka-clunk

My ghetto cruiser decided to fall apart on Saturday morning. I was stopped at an intersection about three blocks from my house (after driving to Des Moines and back on Friday and to my parents and back right before this incident) when I began to turn the corner. And heard a big clunk and felt the front right side of my car drop to the ground.

My stupid ball joint broke on the tire, which caused the suspension to fall to the ground and the tire to tilt periously within the wheel well. And then I got to sit there, in the frigid cold waiting for my husband to bring the phone book and then wait with him in his car while we waited for the tow truck and guarded my car - which was in the middle of the intersection.

I was secretly praying that it would be a major repair. if it was $1500 or more - I was going to say screw it and just get rid of the car. But alas, the ball joint costs only $50 and my dad is coming over Saturday to fix it with my little brother. I so desperately want a newer, more fuel efficient, potentially hybrid, vehicle. I'm the type of person who should be driving around in a cute little VW beetle or a Prius. Maybe that's a bit yuppy of me, but it just suits my personality so much more than this big black Lincoln Towncar with the chrome side panels. *sigh*

In other news, church went pretty well this morning. I had a pretty long teaching sermon on the Lord's Prayer that I think got kind of wordy and long. I would definately do it differently next time. We are doing a six week study on the Lord's Prayer based on "Becoming Jesus' Prayer" and this week was all about what the prayer teaches us about what it means to be faithful. Perhaps I could have broken the sermon into two sections, but then it wouldn't fit nicely into my Epiphany Season series. Oh well.

I did find a great children's sermon where we made a prayer sandwich - putting five themes of the prayer: praise, hope,depend, forgive, goodness - between two slices of bread. The kids really liked the silliness of it all.

Lectionary Leanings - Glimmer of Light

January 4
Isaiah 60:1-6, Psalm 72, Ephesians 1:3-14, Matthew 2:2-12

While our church year technically begins with the Advent season, Epiphany has always struck me as a time of new beginnings and fresh starts. Perhaps this is in part because of its close proximity to the New Year in the Gregorian calendar. But liturgically, Epiphany has the feeling of a beginning of a journey. A star had risen in the sky and a band of men from the east began an unknown voyage to discover its source. They probably had no idea how long it would take them to get there. They didn’t know what friends or foes they would meet along the way. In reality, they didn’t even know who they were looking for. They set out anyways.

In many ways, our journey of Christian faith is like that of the wise men. In each of our lives, there has been a moment, however small, however insignificant, that has led us to begin this journey. It may have been words of a Sunday school teacher that first caused you to follow Christ for yourself, like the faint glimmer of a falling star. Or perhaps it was a dramatic moment of hitting rock-bottom and having no where to turn but to Christ, like the glimmer of light calling out from behind an eclipse. Perhaps the call to follow has always been there in your life, from the very earliest memory, much like the multitude of stars in the night sky. We may not be able to name the moment or recite the date and time, but at some point in our lives, we began to take steps toward Christ.

Inevitably, there are times in our lives where we have strayed from that path, when we have let the cares of the world or the demands of family or job lead us in other directions. But just like the New Year brings with it a time for making resolutions, the season of Epiphany is a reminder of who we have promised to follow. In the words of Isaiah, “Arise, shine; for your light has come!” The path is still there, the light of Christ still beckons, and now is as good a time as any to begin the journey again.

first series of sermons: thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path... following Christ in the season of Epiphany

okay... so it's a long title for a sermon series. But I'm starting out this new pilgrimage with my congregation by inviting them on a journey - and the Light of Christ is our guide. Last week we talked about the star that led the wise men to the Christ Child. This week, we'll talk about the Spirit of God that came down on Jesus at his baptism - a light that lives within us and sends us forth into ministry. After that - we'll do the calling of the disciples and the reminder that Christ is the light which shines in the darkness, calling all people to him. Finally, the trip up the mountain, and the transfiguration... more light!

It all works out in my head, but figuring out how to incorporate all of the ideas I have into these worship services - especially as I'm brand new at this is difficult. I have all sorts of experience planning worship... but a much more informal worship. I like the traditional stuff... I like doxologies and liturgy and I want to do so much with the space we are worshipping in! But... baby steps... I'm trying not to do it all at once (for my sake as much as for the congregation).

Today I'm a bit stuck as I write my sermon... this idea of the interplay between water and light keeps dancing around in my head. And then I came across a Wendell Berry poem: The Gift of Gravity

All that passes descends,
and ascends again unseen
into the light: the river
coming down from sky
to hills, from hills to sea,
and carving as it moves,
to rise invisible,
gathered to light, to return
again. “The river’s injury
is its shape.” I’ve learned no more.
We are what we are given
and what is taken away;
blessed be the name
of the giver and taker.
For everything that comes
is a gift, the meaning always
carried out of sight
to renew our whereabouts,
always a starting place.
And every gift is perfect
in its beginning, for it
is “from above, and cometh down
from the Father of lights.”Gravity is grace.

The rain that falls upon us comes from God. And it washes us clean. It surrounds us and refreshes us. But the light comes as well. It dries us off and the water evaporates. It is a cycle necessary for life. "for everything that comes/ is a gift, the meaning always/ carried out of sight/ to renew our whereabouts,/ always a starting place." As we renew our baptismal covenants this Sunday, our whereabouts are renewed. We are given a new starting place. And we pray that the water and the light will lead us to God.