Signed, Sealed, Delivered...

 

I'm working on a sermon today, sitting outside near my apartment at the local coffeeshop.  Across the street from me is Railroad Park, an amazing green-space in the middle of the city.  Railroad park is always a hopping place with people riding their bikes and running.  I've seen a yeti doing yoga, kids tossing bread to the fish and turtles in the ponds, there's a place for skateboarders and renting scooters.  It's this amazing mix of people and personalities, from the rich sports-car drivers to the familiar faces of the homeless men joyfully petting all the dogs.  In the fall and spring, this was the place for students to get their homecoming and prom photos, all spruced up in their tuxes and looking like princesses.  There are food trucks, too and of course that dreaded ice-cream truck playing a never-ending loop of The Entertainer. It is from here that I have seen the most beautiful sunsets that remind me of the beauty of home.  This bustling place also reminds me of who I think God has called us to be as the Created.  

Of all the goings-on, there is one guy that rises to the top of my favorites list.  It's this guy.  He has a motorized skateboard and for hours each weekend he goes up and down the road as fast as he can.  The best part though, is that on his back is a big speaker from which he blasts great 80's music. What a guy! He brings a smile to face every time he speeds by because I know he is living so comfortable in his skin. 

     

Tomorrow I'm preaching on Ephesians 1, and it is chock-full of sermon material.  Perhaps what's brought this full-circle today is his blasting a little Stevie Wonder's, "Signed, Sealed, Delivered..."  Here's a snippet of the Scripture passage from The Message version: 

11-12 It’s in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone.

13-14 It’s in Christ that you, once you heard the truth and believed it (this Message of your salvation), found yourselves home free—signed, sealed, and delivered by the Holy Spirit. This down payment from God is the first installment on what’s coming, a reminder that we’ll get everything God has planned for us, a praising and glorious life.

Gosh, these words are powerful...not only are we chosen and invited into God's unfolding redemptive purpose in the world, but we've been sealed by the Holy Spirit.  Marked uniquely in God's image, authentically created with purpose and creativity.  This offers us such reassurance that even at our messiest, God is right here in it all with us, continuing to work in and through us.  We humans spend so much time trying to fit the molds and meet the standards we perceive others require from us, when in reality God just wants us to buckle up, throw on our helmets and put ourselves out there in the world and love people.   

So there you have an overly-simplified, 5-minute Saturday night sermon.  I'm mindful tonight of my colleagues who may be taking hold of new pulpits in new places tomorrow, of the eagerness I feel in my own spirit to get back to doing what I know and love...and the anxiety that comes with wanting to do it all well.  Regardless of the vocation to which you have been called, my prayer for all of us is that we don't let anything get in the way of God's purposes for us and that we truly bring our authentically sealed-by-the-Spirit selves to this world.  

I wonder what songs you would blast while zooming along railroad park on your skateboard?  

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Devon

 

68 Days

 This is me.  Tonight on the porch sitting in the humid, AL air feeling just plain thankful.  I turn a year older in a few days.  I have bags under my eyes now, which I tried to blame on N-95's and hospital air...but honestly, even those remind me of the cost of choosing to really live.  A year ago I was not sure I would ever stand behind a pulpit again, having lost the joy and feeling of Divine-connection that had always been present in those moments of proclamation.  

Many of you reading this have been on a spiritual journey of your own since we met. My prayer is that my influence on that part of who you are has been a positive, challenging, and affirming one.  You know that's the most amazing part of being called to ministry, right? No matter where I find myself I have been given the real gift of walking alongside persons as they discover and claim their God-given gifts.  Everyone has these gifts and I believe with all my heart that when we come together in the sharing of these gifts we begin to see a glimpse of the Kin-dom of God.  Every single person we meet has something to teach us about the identity of God, and that makes me really love people...and really get excited about ministry.

So tonight as I sit here pondering the last year-with Al, my roommate's cat, I realize that I have learned the most life-changing lessons during this time of CPE.  There were so many moments last fall when I would sit in my room and wonder with fear if following my heart meant that my life would never have purpose again, if I had let God down, and if it was even possible to figure out the path ahead.  Slowly, the process began to take hold and as a mirror was held up to those false narratives I had lived by my whole life I was made to stay in the hard and to give words to emotions I had never let arise. I began to embrace the reality that being the real me is way more fun than being that person trying to figure out how to be what she thought everyone else wanted her to be.  

Friends, many of you have been my companions in the truest sense this last year. You've checked in on me, you've prayed for me, you've encouraged me, and you've shown me grace.  To be honest, thank you doesn't seem to express adequately how my heart and eyes overflow when I think about it.  I cannot wait to be able to spend time with many of you...only 68 days left in AL!

Here's the most exciting part of tonight, I have been dying to share...as of today I have been officially appointed as the Associate Pastor to The People's Church of Lansing.  In this capacity I will get to do lots of things I love, like work with college students at MSU and be in ministry with young adults, I'll get to preach and teach and work alongside an amazing Senior Pastor.  The best part for me is that this interview process felt more real, more authentic, than any interview previously, and the person they chose was the realest version of me I have ever been.  This is going to be fun!  

So...if any of you fine people have a lead on a place to live in Lansing...please let know! 

Thanks for being a part of my journey....you matter to me!

Devon

On my heart, and in my head.

I just got off a zoom tonight with some good people.  After it ended I scanned Facebook and read of yet another shooting of a black man in Minneapolis.  Ten miles from where George Floyd's murderer is on trial Daunte Wright was shot "accidentally" when the officer went for a taser, only to fire a pistol.  I started to share the news piece on my FB page expressing my weariness with this constant cycle of injustice and murder, wanting to stand in solidarity with the people of color in my community.  

Then I remembered that last week the white evangelical world got ahold of a prophetic prayer of lament written by Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes that was published in Sarah Bessey's latest (and amazing) book, "A Rhythm of Prayer."  You should totally buy the book, but here is the link to Dr. Chanequa's prayer and commentary on how it came to be: https://drchanequa.com/blog.  The prayer, entitled, "The Prayer of a Weary Black Woman," details how she wants to hate the white people that perpetuate the hatred, weary from being filled with a hope that one day "we" will get it, but consistently being disappointed by our lip-service followed by inaction.  She is crying out to the God that she knows is beyond the broken systems, the One who claims her as Beautiful Child.  Unfortunately, the loudest white evangelical Christians, the very ones who take verses out of the Bible literally and completely out of context, have done the same thing to this prayer.  The first line really stirred them up, and must have left them unable to read the rest and embrace the reality of which she writes.  It is vulnerably raw and beautiful.  And this reaction only shines a spotlight on the double-minded thinking that keeps us complacent, stuck in this systemic oppression allowing our fear to prevent us from speaking up and taking action. It is scary when the people you think are "yours" suddenly reflect something with which you can no longer agree, or perpetuate harmful rules by which you can no longer abide.  

So how could I dare share another post with a hollow nod to "thoughts and prayers" for my minority siblings, naming the injustice layered into so many aspects of my everyday life when I am certain that I perpetuate these systems on a daily basis? 

What is a black woman to do when we don't even allow her the the opportunity to voice her lament? What is a black man to do when the entire nation continues to argue whether a police officer should be allowed to murder a black man (ANY black man) by kneeling on his neck while his life drains from his body?   We acknowledge the pain racism causes but fail to put to death the racist systems that continue to make it difficult for minorities to vote, have access to decent healthcare, feel protected by law enforcement....and the list goes on.  We keep making THEM do the work.  And we wonder why anger shows up as riots in the streets when we close our ears to the cries of the oppressed. 

I almost did it again this evening.  I keep relying on BIPOC folx to teach me, show me, enable me to do better...but it's NOT THEIR JOB.  If I can think of anyone whose job it might be to get at the root of all of this and begin to change it, it is the job of white Christians.  So many of whom say they believe in Jesus the Christ but take not the first steps in repenting, confessing, or transforming or own biases. Afraid to recognize the privilege that seeps in simply by being born with white skin, claiming that "we were here first," while we detain immigrant children in cages, while every single Native American can tell us the story of our own immigration and their peoples' demise.

White Jesus-followers, we can do better, we must do better.  This is the very call of Christ - abundant life for ALL of God's children, freedom from oppression, truly loving persons because they bear the very imprint of God.  How in 2021 can continue to justify denying basic rights to persons because of the color of their skin? 

But honestly, I understand much of this with new vision these days, and I write mostly to remind myself that everyday I live as a follower of the One who turned the oppressive empire of His day on its head.  And I want to stay meek and humble, I want to continue to learn....because as I know better I can be a more prophetic voice, a better citizen, a kinder friend, generous and just. 

...more like Christ, I suppose.  

My prayer this evening is simple: 

Compassionate God, you are slow to anger, compassionate, abounding in steadfast love.  Teach me.  Offer me wisdom that my privilege might lead to change, my confusion and despair lead to powerful understanding, that I would move closer to those that I do not yet understand, trusting that as I do I will be transformed by their humanity, by their power and by the beauty they behold. Amen. 

Vulnerability is Scary.

 

Someone I love sent me this picture a couple days ago.  I have to admit that it made me pause.  I look so purposeful, cool, calm, and collected.  But the truth is this woman was filled with overwhelming fear.  I remember that day, those weeks, those months.  Some still say that the pandemic caused me to lose focus, but in all reality it called me to re-focus.  On what really matters, on what I really want out of this life.  We only get one, you know.  

I held the pulpit that day weary to my bones.  Burned out and unable to find the depth of joy I had always experienced. Grateful for hard lessons learned only by grieving life's foundational people, loss that led to loneliness, that led to soul-searching, not settling.  Fear that the rhetoric inside me was true, lifelong thoughts that incessantly reminded me that people would really only love me because of what I accomplished, the hours I worked, the lengths I went to grow and love and move people out of complacency.  

Little did I know that a new journey was about to begin, in all the ways.  I began to recognize the power of Love - the kind that I preached and taught, so everyone else would find it in themselves, the kind I had failed to realize was surrounding me, too.  It started with sympathy cards offering grace and kindness, cemetery meetings with people who shared the hardest parts of their lives through tears, funeral directors who'd laugh and cry and send me on life-altering adventures, and friends...I mean, REAL friends who let me sit with them and share the hardest truths I've ever spoken or felt, certain that they'd bail, and overwhelmed when they loved me right where I was, just as I am. Friends who've said "we're in this together," and have meant it every single day.   

I didn't know that day that what I longed for the most God had brought right to my doorstep.  The kind of soul-love that I always knew existed so would never settle for less. The kind of love that turns impossibilities into possibilities, that requires more brave than I ever knew I had in me.  The messiest, hardest, and painful beginnings of a forever love that I thought I would never find, found me, and she has changed and challenged me to be the best version of myself.  My "no, this can't be, it will mess up my whole life," slowly turned into "God, is this it? What I've prayed for so long I'd given up on?" Day by day, text by text, my guard came down and profound love planted its seeds.  

My entire life I have focused on one thing, being the best at what I knew I was called to do.  For a time in my life that was to be an athlete, then it became my goal to be the best ordained Elder in The United Methodist Church that I could possibly be, to love people genuinely and do whatever I could to make sure that all the people with whom I come in contact know that they are loved by a God who knows them.  This focus took precedent over everything else, including my family.  And it was good and valuable, and I kept telling myself that "this is enough."  Until it wasn't.  Leading now to this moment when I am confronted by the reality that who I love might just prevent me from doing what God has created me to do.  That is best kept a conversation for another time, I suppose.  

You know these dots, right?  The ones that just keep moving as someone types, the three little dots that make you wait for someone's reply?  For months I have been living in this space, sharing with the people I love the most, the ones who I want to know the truth, writing letters, making phone calls, and then waiting as the three dots just hang on the screen...as I wait to see if who I have fallen madly in love with means persons in my life no longer want to be there.  I wait and ponder if the people who loved me as a pastor will now decide I cannot possibly be called to preach and teach in their churches.  I wonder who will let me know of their disappointment, who will make sure and let me know that I am sinful or eternally doomed.  

The funny thing is this...in this moment right now I am the healthiest version of myself that I have ever been.  I am learning so much about ministry this year as I hold the hands of the sickest, most isolated Covid patients, and so much about myself as I process and form new foundations for self-understanding and care.  My heart is filled with gratitude for this gift that God has given to me, someone to share my life with, someone who makes me better.  I have always been an ally for the lgbtq+ community but I severely underestimated the amount of fear and vulnerability that comes with the process of truly coming out, living authentically.  If you are a part of that community, I am so sorry for not being bolder and braver on your behalf.  

Friends, I share this with you not to ask for your permission, or to apologize for potentially not being who you want me to be, but because I am done living in fear.  I am not going to let fear win anymore.  Instead I am trusting God all the way on this one, day by day, moment by moment, forward step after forward step.  And even in the midst of professional uncertainty about what will be next following this chaplain residency year, I am most grateful to be loved, really fully loved.  

Should our journey need to end here, I understand.  If you need to ask questions, do. If you decide to hang in there with me, I hope to write more often, especially for Lent.  If there is one thing I hope we have learned this last year, it is that we are all in this together.  Life's just too short not to be lived fully.  

Blessings and love, friends. 

Devon