Lean in.

I have to admit that I never really understood the significance of Maundy Thursday until I started serving a local church.  It is a significant step that we must take toward the cross and the events of Good Friday, but aside from Communion it never really meant all that much to me.  My first Maundy Thursday as an appointed pastor changed my mind about this day, and has forever marked it as one of my favorite ministry opportunities ever since.  

So today has been a bit strange, because normally right now we'd be gathering around a beautiful table serving one another Holy Communion and sharing about Jesus new mandate (which is where Maundy comes from), or commandment found in John 13:

 "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. 

Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.  

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

My favorite part of this passage of Scripture (John 13: 1-17, 31b-35) is actually the moment that Jesus gets up from the table where his friends and companions had gathered for the last time, takes off his outer robe, ties a towel around his waist, and pours water into a basin.  For men who had been walking the dusty streets, this was a pure offering of service and hospitality.  He kneels down and one by one washes their feet.  Peter, who I often relate to most, is certain that Jesus should not wash his feet, and when pressed he then decides he should wash all of him.  Peter is always a little bit more excited than the rest of them.  Jesus models servant leadership and then challenges them to do the same.  

I have big feet.  I have feet that have played lots of basketball.  These feet are not pretty feet.  In fact, the most nervous I have ever seen church folks be is when you tell them you'd like to wash their feet.  People actually SKIP church because they don't want to have their feet washed.  Lots of churches have gone from washing feet to washing hands, because that is easier for people to engage.  Getting your feet washed makes you vulnerable.  What if your toenails are too long, what if you have sock lint between your toes, or you've had shoes on all day and you're afraid your stinky feet will clear the room.  The list of reasons why this is a bad idea seem to spill forth rather quickly when a foot washing is suggested.  

The most amazing gift I've been given as a pastor is for someone to trust me enough to wash their feet.  It is intimate in a way that is so humbling because it is raw and real and feet can tell us something about people.  I've washed feet that were rough and rugged, feet that were manicured and beautiful, children's' feet dirty from play, teenage boy stinky feet just because, 93 year-old feet, and infant feet.  It's not the feet that matter, it is looking up into someone's eyes and helping them to realize that the love of Jesus is just as real for them as it was for each of those disciples that night.  It is a reminder that the powers and principalities of this world can never overpower the life-altering servant-love that leads to eternal life.  It is about letting down our guard enough to place our trust in each other's hands knowing that we will be held in a divine embrace as water is poured, feet are washed and dried.  And as we rise up from this space we remember that we are called to go and serve not of our own will, but out of the love of Christ alive within us.  

Perhaps these last few weeks has taught us something about servant leadership, as nurses and doctors with ears raw from elastic show us the reality they face day in and out.  We witness this at the post office, at the grocery store, gas stations, when you pick up takeout it is in the eyes of small-business owners who are filled with fear about the impact of this on their lives.  Servant leadership is in the folks delivering groceries and medicines to high-risk persons, in the actions and words of pastors who have become internet evangelists, it is in the first-responders ready to help at the ring of the phone, and in teachers who are doing everything to stay connected  and help teach children that they miss.  These folks may not be kneeling down with a basin of water, but they are opening themselves up, being vulnerable and real in order that others benefit.  

One of my current favorite podcasts is Brene Brown, and in her book Daring Greatly, she wrote: "Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.  Truth and courage aren't always comfortable, but they're never weakness."  

In this time of uncertainty we have come to terms with the reality that we are all vulnerable.  Vulnerability might look like fear about your feet, it might look like an emotional rollercoaster right now, it might feel bad when our current situation starts to bring up things from pasts that have been dealt with long ago.  Vulnerability is messy and hard and takes a a lot of trust in self, others, and God.  But when we can go there, really allowing ourselves to be as authentic as God created us to be, just think how courageous the Body of Christ will rise in the end.  

So if you're feeling awfully vulnerable right now....lean in.  This is right where Jesus meets us, takes hold of our feet and tenderly reminds us who we are, and Whose we are.  It's not really about your feet, after all.

Pastor Devon

Normal

Last night I got my head and heart into a space that just longed for something normal.  To be clear, I have nothing to complain about because I am not working on the front lines like our grocery store clerks and medical caregivers and workers.  But nothing right now is normal.  Everything that has brought my soul such joy in the past few months has changed.  The ministry that I know how to do can't happen, and I've been thrown so far out of my comfort zone that I can't even see it anymore.  My #2 Enneagram wiring wants to help, help, help...and I find myself home by myself more than I have been in years and years.  Do you long for normal? Will normal even be normal anymore when this is over?

Today I had a glimmer of normalcy.  I was able to be with people as they buried a loved one.  It meant getting dressed in my pastor-power clothes, actually doing my hair, and being present in a semi-normal, 6ft away kind of way.  As much as I wanted to hug all the people we kept our distance, said our prayers and goodbyes.  Life has a funny way of shaking us up once in a while, and this has certainly done that for me in all sorts of ways.  But there's one thing that I've known for a long time that has only been affirmed in these weeks.  While much of organized religion can be difficult, the one thing we have to offer that the world needs is the power of community.  Sure, you can join a club or meet up with friends.  But the power of a whole group of people praying for you and lifting you up can't be beat.  That's the gift of the church - even when we are social distancing.  

This Scripture from Hebrews 12 came to mind this afternoon:  

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us,  looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart.

I sometimes think about this "great cloud of witnesses" and see them sort of cheering us on down here.  Maybe that seems silly, but all these people who for generations have lived their faith and poured themselves into their lives, shaping faith communities, encouraging young people, and trusting that running the race is worth every moment, even when it's hard - they make me realize that we must continue to put one foot in front of the other, because it might lead to one more person encountering the transformational love of God.  

We are heading into the most moving part of Holy Week, where we remember the outpouring of love on the cross.  And though it is far from a normal week, we must travel this road, recognizing that sacrificial love is key to our receiving the hope of resurrection.  May we run with perseverance, this race to which we have been called!

Be Well,

Pastor Devon

A Grain of Wheat

There were some Greeks in town who had come up to worship at the Feast. They approached Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee: “Sir, we want to see Jesus. Can you help us?” Philip went and told Andrew. Andrew and Philip together told Jesus. Jesus answered, “Time’s up. The time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. “Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real and eternal.   John 12: 20-25

Within these last days of his life, we are surrounding by images of life and death in Jesus' words and actions.  This time it is when Jesus is confronted by these Greek-speaking visitors.  The passage is much longer than these few verses, but as I read these tonight I got to thinking about this analogy of the grain of wheat.  Now, I am not wise about any kind of farming or gardening, but this analogy is one I can understand.  As long as a grain of wheat is a kernel in the head of a stalk of wheat, it remains exactly that.  Only when it separates and falls to the ground, getting buried can it then produce more grain. According to all things internet (which MUST be true, right?) one grain of wheat can produce eight or more heads of grain, with over 40 seeds per head.  

Jesus doesn't just answer with a simple yes or no about these visitors, he uses this as an opportunity to teach Andrew and Philip.  I wonder how they processed this teaching.  You can't get very far these days without being confronted with images of life and death, and hopefully resurrection too.  We see people in masks when we have to venture out to the store, we see images everyday on television that remind us of our mortality, and when we get outside and look around we see the promise of resurrection as the little green plants work to spring up from the dirt.  All around us are the images of Holy Week and Easter.  

Jesus challenged them, and continues to challenge us to embrace new life that comes in relationship with our Savior.  It is not about simply laying down the old and taking on the new, it is about being planted in the dirt, and allowing the presence and love of God to transform us into the kind of love that multiplies over, and over, and over.  It often takes darkness, difficulty, and struggle for us to find the strength to bear fruit in the world.  Perhaps that is what is happening these days, as we journey closer to the cross in this rather eery existence and separation.  

I have spoken to many people who are finding this week exceptionally difficult.  It may be because we'd hoped to be through this by now, it may be the rainy weather, it may just be the emotional weariness that comes with all of the anxiety and loss of control in our daily lives.  I wonder tonight if we can think of ourselves as being planted, rooted in the knowledge of resurrection, but allowing ourselves to just get covered in the dirt, without jumping ahead to the flowering.  Daily reaching up a little bit more, as we rediscover who we are, and what it means to be journeying with Jesus this Holy Week.  Perhaps that can be our prayer tonight, to simply allow ourselves to be present where we are, trusting that God is tending to our needs, and preparing us to bear fruit.  

May it be so.

Pastor Devon

Extravagant Love

"Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.  Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume." John 12:1-3

Since it is Holy Week, I thought we would focus on Jesus' journey to the cross, by taking a look at the daily lectionary readings.  Here we find Jesus in one of his favorite places, with his friends.  He's reclining at the table with Lazarus (who has just been raised from the dead).  We find Martha putting her gifts of hospitality to good use.  That's when Mary not only anoints Jesus' feet, but wipes them with her hair, filling the room with the earthy smell of nard.  

Last year I read an article about this passage that has stuck with me ever since.  It talked about how Mary's extravagant gesture of love may have been what gave Jesus the courage to face his future.  After his time in Bethany, Jesus headed into Jerusalem and faced betrayal, trial, and crucifixion.  I wonder throughout all of it if he remembered the love he felt in this moment from Mary.  It may have been this love that carried him with strength into his future.  

I got to spend some time with a few of our church kiddos today on Zoom.  They're such characters and so much fun.  They are taking this all in stride, but are definitely aware of what is happening in our world right now.  I wonder what it means to love our children into their futures, especially in the midst of this social isolation.  How can we love our young people so extravagantly that they feel safe and confident to be who they are, even in the midst of fear?

Have there been people in your life that have loved you into your future?  Persons who may have seen something in you that you had not recognized?  People who have encouraged you, stood by you, and embraced you when things were difficult?  Maybe even persons who's strength you have relied on when you were facing uncertainty? 

These are the kind of people we all need, and perhaps this moment with Mary was one of the most intimate glimpses we get into Jesus' humanity.  I wonder if he thought about this as he knelt down to wash the disciples feet later in the week?  If he recognized the same loving face at his feet as he was crucified?  

Is there someone in your life that you can encourage in this way?  Are you needing some extravagant love?  That is what this Holy Week is all about, encountering the life-changing, extravagant love of Christ.  

One of my favorite old school Casting Crowns songs is called Your Love is Extravagant. You can listen to it here:   Your Love is Extravagant.  It's such a beautiful reminder.

Have a good night, everyone.

Pastor Devon