commonchange

Jesus refused to let others define him.

 He found who he was and he refused to let go of this.

Jesus refused to let go of his identity.

Jesus knew what he stood for.
Jesus knew who he stood for.

And Jesus refused to let go of this…

He refused to let go of those who he stood in solidarity with.

The poor.
The disenfranchised.
The sick.
The lame.
The blind.
The weak.
The women.
The children.

These people were the outcasts that the principalities and the powers of society did not stand with but against.

“For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world.” Eph. 6:12 KJV

Because Jesus stood with the outcasts he became an outcast.
Because Jesus stood with the outcasts—the principalities killed him.
Because Jesus stood with the outcasts —the powers buried him.

But Jesus knew something that would change everything—

Jesus knew he could be killed—but also knew he would not stay dead.
Jesus knew he could be buried—but also knew he would not stay in the tomb.

Because he knew the Truth of the Power he stood for.
He knew this Power stood for him and for all the people he stood for.

And it was this Power that rolled away the stone:

“God put this Power to work in Christ when {God} raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, ²¹far above all rule and authority and power and dominion…” Eph 1:20-21, NRSV

Nothing can contain this Power.
This is the liberative Power of freedom that rolled away the oppressive stone of the tomb.

“After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.

Matthew 28:1-10 


This is the same liberative Power of freedom that rolled back the stone is igniting across our globe:

            Tunisia, Egypt, Yemen, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Libya, Iran…

This is the Power that declares Enough is Enough.

That declares Dawn has Broken—
And the Dark Night is over.

That declares the Flood waters are receding.

This is the Power that the Dove carries back in her beak—
An Olive Branch…

“and the dove came back to him in the evening, and there in its beak was a freshly plucked olive [branch]; so Noah knew that the waters had subsided from the earth….” Gen 8 NRSV

This Power is let loose upon the earth. It cannot be contained.
But what did Jesus know of this Power that he was willing to die for it?
What did he know that Exploded forth from that tomb—the power that Rolled that monolithic imperial stone away?

He knew that this Power, this gift—
That this Branch of Peace springs forth with in each one of us…

“I am the vine, you are the branches.” John 15:5

That this seed, this yeast—that this salt of the Earth is US.

Each and every one of us.
No tomb could contain him because his Power lives in each one of us.
One person can be contained—But we all cannot.
This is the Power of the resurrection.

It was not just about Him….

But it is about US—each and everyone of US.
A stone has been rolled away for each of US—We have all joined in the Resurrection.
Look around to one another.
Look at each of those standing next to us.

Notice how the new, morning rays of light kiss the faces of our companions and friends.
Each of You are the Power of Christ.
The faces you look into are the Faces of Christ.

We are the Messiah’s we have been waiting for…

Standing next to you is the peacemaker—
The world changer—

And each of you each has been given the Power to Roll Stones away.

Our Brothers and Sisters in the Middle East are pushing against stones and they are beginning to move…

And so this Easter morning as we watch the morning sun move across the sky, as we celebrate rolled stones—

I ask what stone will you Move?
What Horizon will you break with new Light?J
ust as Jesus knew who he was and who he stood for—so too must we.

We must find our Identiy. We must find our Power.

And then we must Move—Not just stones but mountains.

In many ways life has gotten more complicated since we turned the pages of these books. This was entertainment: Turn to page 89 if you want to go through this door. Turn to page 93 if you do not.

Now a nostalgic laugh. Ahh…these books were child’s play, nostalgia from simpler times and remnants of simpler entertainment. Simple right?

Or not?

Could it be that these books were more profound than we thought? And they tapped into a deep wisdom we did not realize when we flipped back and forth through their pages, choosing our own adventure and customizing our own plot? The simplicity and depth of these books provide a profound and simple metaphor in the chaos of our  technological world: life is literally a choose your own adventure.

None of us are passive as we bump along through our lives. Each and every day in a myriad of ways we each choose our own adventure. Whether we consciously realize it or not we are always making choices and constructing our plots. Even if we are unaware of our choices we choose them nevertheless. This is not to say that events happen that our out of our control but it is to say that we always have a choice as to how we will deal with them. We can always choose something.

We are creators, writers, and choosers of our lives.

What page will you turn to?

and the 5th result is the following video:

Diana Eck & Kathryn Lohre: Common Ground in the Midst of Differences

This video happens to sum up what I am most passionate about…

“Diversity does not create pluralism…Pluralism takes effort. And this will take effort on the part of all of us: To create a society out of all this difference.”

It also goes on to see the role of the media in all of this. Again a key component of my work. What the premise of my work? Well it can be summed up nicely in part from a quote I took from the video description:

How can “society can find common ground beyond the theological”?

I can only say that this is far too succinct to be a mere coincidence. This is certainly a google synchronicity.

Time, Feb. 14, 2011:

“Grownup Rebels

If Egypt’s rebels behaved like responsible grownups, it’s because so many of them actually are. Thirty-somethings like Taha and Shawai, rather than hotheaded university students, have organized and led the protests”

After reading this article and reflecting on all of the recent protests around the globe, I ask who are the grownups in this world?

Who are today’s leaders?

Who gets the right to say who the grownups are?

Who determines this?

When I look around I see a world run by ‘grownups.’

I see
Male
Middle-age

Suit…

I see
Corporate Interests
Capital Interests

Privileged Few Interests…

Are these the grownups?

or

Are these the bully’s on the playground using whatever violence, fear or façade to maintain their waning power?

Who are the grownups in this world?

Who are today’s leaders?

It’s a pretty simple equation actually:

(Grownuups)=someone who is willing to:

(put down their guns)

(put down their injustice)

(put down their violence)

(say enough to this madness)

A grownup must assume their own responsibility and authority and say I am not going to wait for the same ‘grownups’ who got us into this mess to get us out of it.

I don’t care your
Age
Wealth
Gender

Privilege…

These don’t make grown ups.

Does your heart bleed for justice?
Does your soul scream out for freedom from tyranny?
Do you cry for the Earth—for her animals, plants, oceans, humans and landscapes?

You my friends are the grownups of this planet.

You are the stewards we need right now.

So rise up and find your voice.
Now is the time to beat our swords into ploughshares.

But it is going to take grownups to do it—

Tag you’re it!

Egypt has fallen!
Egypt has fallen!
Egypt has fallen!

Once again god’s people have been miraculously led to safety from the maniacal tyranny of empire. Once again the sea has parted and those chosen ones, those common ones at the bottom of the imperial pyramid have been led to freedom. Moses’ staff has been thrown down and transformed into the spiraling serpent of social media.

The end is near!
The end is near!
The end of empire is near!

The end of this cycle of human evolution is coming to a close.

Dear friends rejoice for the mighty have fallen. We can no longer be stopped. We have given ourselves the voice we need. And Now is just the beginning. Stand strong. Stay united. All you who cry out for justice and for mercy and for freedom. Your voice has been heard and you have been given a new voice–a new Pentecost has dawned. We can all hear and understand. You each hold the staff of Moses in your hand. Look at your laptops your smart phones your facebooks–these are the tools that will bring down the master’s house.

Take heart. Stand strong. We are one in our lust for freedom.

And we shall be free.

I am posting the sermon that I preached at the United Parish, this past Sunday, July 18th. The sermon is second part in a two part series. My friend Shannon preached the first sermon the week before. You can read that sermon here at her blog The God Pages.

————————————–––––––

In last week’s sermon, Shannon spoke about Evolution—An evolution from the world of poverty, injustice and warfare—the world that the prophet Amos spoke of and criticized. To an evolved world of the Good Samaritan. A world where everyone loves their neighbor as themselves—A true vision of the Gospels. To evolve into this Good Samaritan world Shannon explained in her sermon:

“The secret to [this evolution] is “seeing the sacredness, seeing “God” in everyone, in everything.”

Shannon’s sermon pointed to the need for Evolution. In the spirit of a summer sermon series, today I will dive deeper into this theme of Evolution. We know we need to Evolve—but how? How do we evolve our world from the world of Amos into the world of the Good Samaritan? What can I do?

The vision is simple but the Evolution is difficult.

As wars rage on, as injustice seems to outweigh justice, as our injured Earth continues to pour her blood into the gulf, we desperately ask—why is this evolution taking so long?? We wonder will this evolution every really happen? Is the goodness of the Good Samaritan really for our world? Or perhaps for a world beyond. Can we ever really hope to achieve it in the here and now?

Maybe to begin actualizing this world of the Good Samaritan we must start somewhere familiar.

Maybe this Evolution starts in the kitchen.

Continue reading ‘Evolution in the Kitchen’

“Is the Earth dying?” asked a six year-old friend of mine yesterday as he skipped rocks into the reservoir. He was asking about the gash in the Gulf of Mexico. “No,” another friend replied, “She has survived much more than us.”

The wisdom of a six year-old.

He knows what we have chosen to forget. Our home is not an inanimate rock. Our earth is alive, a sustaining and complex organism with an intricate web of ecosystems and energies that provide an amazing home for us, her children. We thrive on this biosphere, beneath the rays of our golden sun. Have you not felt the pulse of this magnificent Mother as you walk along the shore lines of her ocean, lay beneath the clouds of her sky, dig your toes into the mossy carpet of her forests? How can we know what has a pulse and what does not.

Who are we to determine what is and is not alive in this vast, infinite universe?

Our arrogance has caused a deep wound in the side of this great Mother. But we cannot wound her spirit. Her words echo another who once bore the gash of our ignorance and arrogance—”Father forgive them for they know not what they do.”

Mother forgive us. We truly do not know what we do. If we knew what my six year-old friend knew we would not do what we do.

Our Mother is a forgiving mother. She does not want retribution. In her bleeding patience she hopes we will finally wake-up. If not for the human blood on our hands than for her blood in our oceans. The time is now to awaken, to rise up and say enough is enough. To accept the responsibility for that which we do—and change.

The farmer is in symbiotic profession with Mother Nature. Theirs is a two-step of seasons, days and hours all to the rhythm of the weather. Time is different for the farmer and his Field. There is no time as we have gotten to know it. It is not 3 o’clock but a time to plow. It is not 6 am but a time to plant. It is not September 15, but a time to harvest. The farmer remembers what most of us have forgotten. We are dependent upon the moods and turns of this great Mother. We are at her mercy. When she says plant we plant. Tucked away in the fluorescent, urban spheres of our modern existence we do not know the farmer and we do not know what the farmer knows.

On that day, in early spring when the conditions, soil, air and moisture coalesce, it is time to put the seed in the ground. This is a day that knows no bounds. In the purple twilight of daybreak the farmer will begin to spread his seed into the dark, moist, fertile earth. It is his dance of new life. The dance continues through the afternoon heat and long after sunset. Guided by headlights and a deeper law, the farmer works until the earth is full, his seed is spent and the last beats of early equinox fertility dance reverberate into the star filled night. On that day there are no hours only dance. He does not sleep until his task is done.

We have forgotten our task—our dance. We have planted a world that is far removed from the truth of our existence and grown false constructs. We are plastic and corn syrup and artificial light. Our cycles consist of the next consumer season. Our dance does more than step on toes—it deeply scars one another and this Mother. Dissonance. We have much to learn from the farmer and his orientation—his dance. He knows our home is a field and our survival depends on our harmonious cultivation of this field. As the dance of distraction spins our minds from truth, our blue planet swirls and swims through the milk of our galaxy. Let us reawaken to this truth and in the purple twilight of a new spring begin the task of remembering—replanting—and let us not sleep until this task is done.

—————

This entry was inspired by a conversation I had with Jay Denny, an Ohio farmer. Thanks Jay.

The Chestnut Hill Reservoir is usually full. This winter it was half drained. The Park Maintenance officials decided to drain half of it in an attempt to kill an invasive algae species that had taken up residence on the shoreline. Perhaps a winter exposed would take care of this alien.

There is one spot on the back of the Reservoir where you get a view of downtown over the ripples of the water. I love that spot. We have our sunrise Easter service in that very spot—sunlight reflecting off of the buildings and the water, two Canadian geese flying over taking our Easter prayers, hymns and hopes beyond.

I go to that place. It is not Easter but still winter. I notice that in that very place on the now exposed bottom is a spring. I heard this reservoir was spring fed and now I see her. I climb down slippery rocks, sliding down ice and snow on my bottom. I walk over to her. She is surrounded by a square cement structure, her water pours forth from a large pipe at least 6 feet in diameter. I peer into her. Crystal clear depth—clouds and blue blending with the blue of her. I look up and see water and downtown spread before me. How many times I had looked over this view and not known she poured forth her life just below the surface. I dip in my hand blessing myself with Her holy water.

Sometimes, in the maintenance of our lives, we must purge ourselves of that which is alien inside us, that which has taken up residence and chokes out our true nature. To do this we need the draining harsh exposure of winter. It is in the biting winds of winter that we can connect with the springs of living water that ever pour forth just below the surface. The grace of winter is that Easter is never far behind, waiting to fill our clean shores with new life.