The Waiting...The Hardest Part

The waiting is the hardest part

Every day you see one more card

You take it on faith, you take it to the heart

The waiting is the hardest part

From The Waiting by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers


Waiting sucks.

You know what I’m talking about. You pace around the bus stop wondering why the Circulator hasn’t pulled up like it was supposed to five minutes ago. You fiddle on your phone in an examination room, each breath growing heavier and heavier with impatience as you wait for the doctor to show up. You refresh your browser screen every thirty seconds wondering when that email will finally dance across your desktop. If waiting is a part of human existence, this is the part with which we struggle the most.

Jesus certainly did.

In Mark 9:19, Jesus walks in on a verbal skirmish occurring between his disciples and a man in the crowd. Jesus asks the equivalent of a 1st century, “What the hell is going on here?” and learns that the man has brought his son to be healed of an evil spirit but that the disciples have thus far been unable to offer any relief. Jesus, impatient with the lack of faith displayed by his followers, says, ““You unbelieving generation. How long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you? Bring the boy to me.”

Don’t ever tell me that divinity doesn’t have an edge to it.

In this season of Advent, we are invited to practice something that apparently even Jesus struggled with- waiting. Fortunately, we do have an example of someone who exemplified what it meant to wait with as much grace and elegance as any person could muster.

Her name is Mary and there’s something about her (I recognize that some of you are not old enough to get that reference and this breaks my heart).

Mary is the first Christian- the inaugural carrier of the Word and the faithful witness who fearlessly tells the story of God with ever inch of her existence. When visited by the angel Gabriel in Luke 1 and told that she will give birth to Jesus, Mary responds by saying, “I am the Lord’s servant. Be it unto me as you have said.” Mary does not flinch in the face of performing faithful discipleship. Rather, she demonstrates for us what it means to wait not just on the Lord, but also on our own selves.

Think back to when you were a teenager and the dreams you had then. Do you remember the places you wanted to visit? Can you recall where you wanted to live or which career you wanted to pursue? I’m sure that Mary had dreams; perhaps they were about starting a family and building a fulfilling life with Joseph. But whatever dreams filled Mary’s mind, certainly none of them included an unplanned pregnancy and becoming the headline of Galilee’s gossip columns. And yet, for reasons we are not able to fully understand, Mary puts her own hopes on hold and instead takes up the hope of God for her story. She walks out into the waiting room of her life and tells her 5-year plan to check out the magazine selection because it’s probably going to be a while.

As followers of Jesus, we’re in the unique predicament of being invited to take our cues from Mary and enter into this season of Advent with a willingness to have our lives interrupted by God’s hopes and dreams for us both individually and as a community. An old Yiddish proverb says, “We make plans and God laughs.” But perhaps it is not that God laughs but rather that God looks at what we’ve sketched on our life’s canvas and says, “Are you satisfied with those shades and hues?” Then, like a kind mother expanding her child’s imagination, God reaches into a box of crayons and starts to pull out new and captivating colors that utterly transform our understanding of beauty and brilliance.

In her novel Saint Maybe, Anne Tyler tells the story of a young man named Ian Bedloe who assumes responsibility for raising his deceased brother’s three children. This decision means that Ian must drop out of college and take a job in order to support the children and be free to spend more time with them. Ian’s mother is flabbergasted at her son’s ostensibly reckless behavior and becomes even more confounded when she learns that Ian’s decision springs from convictions gleaned from a new church he has started to attend. Ian’s mother attempts to counter her son’s choice by saying, “Of course we have nothing against religion; we raised all of you children to be Christians. But our church never asked us to abandon our entire way of life.” Ian spares no time before responding, “Well, maybe it should have.”

We want to be a community where we welcome folks to drop what they’re doing and answer the call of Jesus for their lives. We want to be a people who stop haggling with God for things we don’t even want rather than welcoming the things of God into our lives that we really need. We want to learn how God’s desires are disguised as our deepest desires if only we could name them properly. We want to be like Mary and declare ourselves to be the Lord’s servants, acting as agents of God’s peace and justice wherever we go.

Like Mary the mother of God (and Tom Petty!), we take it on faith and we take it to the heart.

Thanks be to God, even when the waiting is the hardest part.

A Prayer for Christians following the killing of Mike Brown and the events in Ferguson

Dear God,


We’ve managed to f--- things up again down here. The clouds of tear gas, the donning of riot gear, the haunting scene of a young man’s body lying dead in a street for four hours…Lord, in your mercy.


Your church is not handling this well. We are proving our utter ineptness at understanding the pain and suffering of others. Insulated within our segregated social circles we are unable to hear the cry of Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.


We refuse to challenge a system that has benefited so many of us because we are scared to imagine what abandoning such a system might do to our own well being, to our children, and to our power both real and imagined.


We are a people living in fear- Fear of bodies both black and brown. Fear of exploring how our own thoughts and feelings have been shaped by a long history of racism and oppression in this country. Fear of admitting that we do not have the situation under control and that in some way, our actions and inactions are part of the problem.


Forgive us as we rush to defend ourselves and explain to others why we have nothing for which to repent. Have mercy on us for being strongly pro-birth but abysmally pro-life. Rescue us from our positions of privilege that have come at the expense of our neighbors’ wellbeing.


Again, like with all of the other messes we have made, we depend on you to fix this as only you can. Comfort the victims and survivors who continually suffer as we struggle to get our shit together. Help us to create a world in which Rachel has no more reason to weep. Build your beloved community in us though it may cost us dearly.


Lord, in your mercy. Hear our prayer.

How not to do theology: Hillsong Edition

I think that Hillsong produces incredible worship music. From soaring melodies to poetic lyrics, Hillsong understands how to take the best of modern music stylings and marry them to heartfelt liturgies.

Their penchant for theological reflection, however, is troubling.

Hillsong’s New York pastor, Carl Lentz, created a stir by saying on a recent CNN segment,

"Jesus was in the thick of an era where homosexuality, just like it is today, was widely prevalent.  And I'm still waiting for someone to show me the quote where Jesus addressed it on the record in front of people.  You won't find it because he never did,"

Lentz went on to say, "We have a lot of gay men and women in our church and I pray we always do."

Lentz’s wife, Laura, corroborated her husband’s view by adding, "It's not our place to tell anyone how they should live, it's - that's their journey."

Christians eager to see a church more welcoming of members of the LGBTQ community might cheer at such statements. But trust me, undergirding these ostensibly inclusive statements is a troubling way of reading Scripture and a dangerous way of engaging in theological reflection.

To be sure, it is interesting to note that the four Gospel witnesses do not comment on same sex relations even though they follow the Pauline epistles in terms of their chronological composition. However, the argument that, “if Jesus didn’t say it publicly, we don’t talk about it publicly” makes for a poor way of both interpreting and understanding Scripture.

Whereas one might easily critique Lentz’s contention that Jesus “was in the thick of an era where homosexuality, just like it is today, was widely prevalent,” it seems wiser to bypass this ignorant and problematical assumption and instead focus on the dangerous implications of operating off of a “We believe only what Jesus says” mentality.

The obvious problem with Lentz’s statement is that there are plenty of things Jesus did not publically address that stand as perils to our modern world. Civil rights, equality between the sexes, bioethics, and nuclear proliferation just to name a few. Lentz’s statement is not to be confused with one of the central tenets of the Stone-Campell Restoration movement, “Where Scripture speaks we speak. Where Scripture is silent, we are silent.” Rather, it is a repudiation of the entirety of the witness of Scripture and introduces an unworkable hermeneutic that borders on Marcionism. Functionally, it creates a canon within a canon ala Thomas Jefferson whereby we manage our affairs solely off of the red-letter words.

I applaud Lentz for acknowledging that there are gay men and women in his church and praying for the continuation of that trend. I cringe at his wife’s words that said that it is not their place to tell anyone how to live. Besides the fact that such a statement is far from being a statement of welcome and instead functions as the most milquetoast type of tolerance, it also diverges away from God’s grace-filled gospel, and drives right into the realm of antinomian nonsense tailored for an era of feel-good sound bites. It should be noted again that Lentz's words aired on a CNN segment and I'm sure certain editorial liberties were taken. However, the problematical nature of the statement still stands.

Hillsong’s leader, Brian Houston had to clarify earlier statements he made at a New York Press Conference that led news outlets to suggest that he had articulated a more welcoming tone towards LGBTQ individuals. “I challenge people to read what I actually said, rather than what was reported that I said,” said Houston, “My personal view on the subject of homosexuality would line up with most traditionally held Christian views. I believe the writings of Paul are clear on this subject."

There we go. Clear as day. Well, maybe a cloudy one.

Houston is a smart guy, or at least one who is deeply concerned with keeping his global church from fracturing and his lucrative music licensing fees from drying up. His statement does two things of note: First, it says that his own personal view on the subject of homosexuality would line up with most traditionally held Christian views (emphasis mine). This statement is odd because one of the main arguments made by non-affirming Christians is that their view is the traditionally held Christian view, not simply the majority view. Second, saying that the writings of Paul are “clear” on the subject is unhelpful. The writings of Paul on the topic of women speaking in church also seem to be “clear” and yet Houston is a part of a denominational that proudly (and rightly) ordains women. This is a statement not intended for clarity but for diplomacy. In fact, it comes awfully close to skirting along philosopher Harry Frankfurt's definition of "bullshit" whereby the speaker is most concerned with making a favorable impression upon the listeners (both affirming and non-affirming) rather than the truth of what he's saying.

Houston’s original statements during a press conference on the issue actually come off as quite articulate and thoughtful (if not representative of a quick three point sermon). He eagerly references the fact that there are human lives at stake in this conversation and I do not doubt for one second his concern for these individuals. But if there are teenagers' lives at stake and if there are people battling depression over this, then why not make a definitive statement either way so as to at the very least let LGBTQ individuals know what they're getting into when they attend your churches. Houston's subsequent statement and the statement made by Carl Lentz should make those working for a more inclusive church feel wary about the way in which their lives, gifts, and graces are being so casually handled.

So yes, Hillsong church, this is an ongoing conversation and a terribly important one at that. But what this is not is an opportunity to issue clever sound bites that propagate potentially harmful ways of reading Scripture or to make statements in which you try to straddle a fence because you’re afraid of what other people might think of you.

Gospel does have a claim on us. It does tell us how to live our lives. And this ain’t it.  

Finding Home Away from Home

“Not much of my life makes any sense outside of God.”  Fr. Greg Boyle, S.J.

There are three moments in my life of which I can distinctively point to and say, “God did that.”

Celebrating my transfer into the UMC with
my friend,colleague, and fellow clergy
 Laura Markle Downton

The first was my adoption as an infant in Seoul, South Korea. After my birth mother left me in a hospital, I spent three months in foster care before a couple in Oklahoma City welcomed me into their home. God provided me with the family I needed even though they were on the other side of the world.

The second moment was my acceptance into Duke Divinity School. The richness of the theological imagination I developed there coupled with the meaningful connections and relationships I built in Durham have sustained my ministry thus far and shaped me in ways I am still working to understand.

The third moment occurred last Thursday at a church in Towson, MD where I was transferred into the Baltimore Washington Conference of the United Methodist Church as a full elder. After 31 years of being first a member and then an ordained minister in the Wesleyan Church, I said goodbye to a place I have long called home and entered into a new family and a future shaped by the loving hand of Christ.

It is not an easy task to leave a church that has raised you and formed some of the most intimate parts of your life. The Wesleyan Church helped me first perceive of the triune God and introduced me to countless women and men into my life who would serve as mentors, confidants, and friends. My undergraduate education was at a Wesleyan institution of higher education and over the years I have attended more Wesleyan conferences, summer camps, and youth conventions than can be recalled. If I have ever ministered, served, or cared for others with any note of distinction it is because I was raised and reared in a church that instilled within me a deep love for Jesus and the desire to exude holiness in my every day existence.

Now I find myself in a new denomination that feels strangely familiar and yet noticeably different. The attentiveness to John Wesley’s theological framework remains, and in some ways presents itself in even more ways than what I am used to experiencing. We read many of the same books, study similar theologians, and sing songs already drilled into my consciousness.

Yes, there are differences and those differences made the case for why I feel more at home being a United Methodist than a Wesleyan. But even as I settle into my new digs and begin getting used to having a bishop to report to, I’m reminded of a passage from Paul Ellie’s The Life You Save May be Your Own in which he recalls an interaction between Thomas Merton and Dorothy Day. Ellie writes,

“He (Merton) asked for her (Day) prayers and for those of the poor. She assured him that he had them. ‘Every night,’ she told him, ‘we say the rosary and compline in our little chapel over the barn, heavy with the smell of cow downstairs, and we have a bulletin board there with the names of those who ask our prayers. Yours is there.”

Over the years, I have asked countless people in the Wesleyan Church to pray for me. I am convinced that I am where I am today because these faithful individuals lovingly placed my name on the bulletin board of their hearts and remembered my request during their faithful deliberations with God.

Like Fr. Boyle, my life makes little sense outside of God and in some significant way, is similarly incoherent without the Wesleyan Church. For this I give thanks to God.  Amen.

Bringing Jesus Back

I’ve been thinking about Mary Magdalene’s words in John 20:13 where she says, “They have taken my Lord away and I do not know where they have laid him.”

The curse and blessing of living in a city is that you are constantly around people. It is a challenge to find a corner of the city in which you will not see someone you know, hear a horn honk or a plane flying overhead, or accidentally bump into someone on a crowded sidewalk. It is hard to be alone. It is easy to be lonely.

But as I’m around other people, I hear them say things that betray how they feel about God and the church and faith. Last night I listened to the story of a young gay man whose church left him in a place of profound pain and rejection. I wish that these were isolated incidents but we’re wise enough to know that this is not the case. And if it’s not a member of the LGBTQ community then it’s a person of color who discovered that while in Christ there may not be Greek nor Jew, slave nor free, there is among Christ’s followers a clear distinction between black and white. We subjugate women and tell them that because they do not have a penis they cannot stand behind a pulpit. We tell the poor that even though Jesus loves them, they need to stop being lazy and get a job like everyone else.

A charitable read of the situation might suggest that people do these things with good intentions. We’re just trying to read the Bible faithfully word for word, letter by letter. We’re just trying to listen to the Spirit. We’re just trying not to judge anyone, because that’s God’s job. We’re just trying to hate the sin and love the sinner.

Yet while all of our “just trying” might make us sincere, Stanley Hauerwas reminds us that sometimes this just shows how little sincerity has to do with Christianity.

Ann Lamott has said, “You can be sure that you’ve created God in your own image when God starts hating all of the people you do.”

And oh the people we've tried to make God hate.

Of course, we would never admit this because we don’t consider it to be hateful at all. This is just who God is and who God has called us to be. It’s not our fault if Paul said that he wouldn’t allow a woman to hold authority over him. We didn’t have anything to do with God creating Adam and Eve and not Adam and Steve. Who can hold us responsible for 2 Thessalonians saying that he who does not work should not eat? “Surely, not I, Lord?” we say without realizing who it is we’re starting to sound like.

In our zeal we have taken Jesus to a place where he does not want to go and my fear is that when we stop to drop him off, we will find ourselves standing there alone.

But God’s good news never fails. Whether we are weeping in front of the garden tomb on Easter morning or militantly marching towards Damascus to carry out what we perceive to be the “work of the Lord,” Jesus can meet us in that place. Jesus can gently call us by name, knock us off the donkey, blaze and banish our blindness and let us know that even though we may not know where to find him, he knows where to find us. For both the directionless and those who are all too confident in the directions they give, God’s grace covers all.

If the tomb cannot hold Jesus, then surely no invention of ours will be able to contain God’s wonderful work of resurrection.

Do not cry, Mary. We could not take your Lord away even if we tried.

A Heartbroken Remembrance

“My heart is broken within me; all my bones tremble.” The prophet Jeremiah

Today I learned that a child I knew died. He drowned in a dirty creek while trying to save his younger sister. The torrent of tributes attesting that he was a “great kid” will flow but the reality is that when I first met him, “great” is not the first adjective I would have chosen to describe him.

He was ornery and mischievous. The type of kid that made you worry about the metrics of your after-school program’s “success” rate.

As a pastor I sat in countless meetings with church members, school principals, and other colleagues hungry to provide care, support- anything they could offer, to partner with this child and his family. He came to my church. He attended the Summer Freedom School and evening mentoring program sponsored by my congregation. We launched an entire after school enrichment program with him and his siblings in mind.

Some days he would come to our programs and run up to one of my friends and give her a great big hug- a sign and seal of the abounding love he had to offer. Other times he would refuse to do homework, fight with another kid, or receive notice that if his actions continued, he would not be allowed to come back next week.

We thought that we never gave up on him but the truth is that he never gave up on us.

I think we’re often tempted to believe that the miracle was that we would break away from our busy week and invest time and talent into the life of a child not of our own blood. This is incorrect. The real miracle was that a child would trust a group of outsiders who knew little of his experience and let them into his world, forgiving them for never fully understanding where he was coming from or what he had to deal with on a daily basis. This is grace in its most raw form.

When I moved away from this community two years ago, I thought that he and his brothers and sisters would be okay because a few dedicated couples and two of my former colleagues in particular were deeply invested in sharing life with him and his family. What I didn’t realize then was that the real reason he and his siblings would be okay was that they had each other and a love that wouldn’t think twice before putting their own lives in harm's way if the situation called for it.

This did not make him a “great” kid. It made him a Christ-like one.

Godspeed, Randez.

Lord, in your mercy.