Dec 31 2018

Dec 31 2018
You judge by human standards; I judge no one.

Jesus is talking to Pharisees, a group which was a political, social and religious powerhouse at the time. They studied the Torah, upheld its law, taught the people. They were doing their best to be God’s people, as they understood it.

I do the same. I try my best to be a person of God as I understand it. I follow what I believe to be the ‘right’ teachings. The problem with doing that though, is that if there is a ‘right’ teaching, there is inherently a ‘wrong’ teaching, isn’t there?

I don’t get to decide that this doesn’t apply to me; that my ‘right’ is really the true ‘right’. And their wrong is just.. wrong. I don’t get to think that my outlook on the world, my interpretation of the Gospel, my politics or my life choices are any more right than those who do the exact opposite. That’s judgment.

Maybe it’s not specifically what the Pharisees were talking about that Jesus (aka God) refutes. Maybe it’s the fact that as a people of faith, the Pharisees had drawn such a bright line in the sand to differentiate themselves, they’d forgotten that all people are people of God.

As humans, I think it’s safe to say that if we judge at all, whether it’s ‘right’ politics, ‘right’ actions, or ‘right’ beliefs, we are judging by human standards. We need to give up the judgment part and live our lives. My way isn’t right. It’s just my way. There is no us vs. them. There is no ‘right’. At least not to Jesus. Maybe someday we’ll all be judged. I’ll leave that one alone. I’ll live my life and live out my faith as best I know. More importantly, I’ll let others do the same.

Dec 30 2018 Hebrews 2: 14-15

This morning, I am struck by a few lines in the New Testament reading for morning prayer from the letter to Hebrews. It's written in lengthy run-on sentences, so here's my paraphrase:
The power of death is the power of the devil. Jesus came, died and rose (or un-died)  to free those from the fear of death (or the devil).
I'm struck that it's so clear that in this writing that we are freed not from death, not from the devil, but from the fear of death or the devil.
This resonates with me.  What I take from this is that yes, there is death. And yes there is evil. But through a God that can beat death, we are called to not be afraid. Not be afraid of death, of illness, of evil.  God wins.  Love wins. 
Sometimes hard things happen, and maybe it's the devil. Maybe it's politics, or dictators, or climate change, or the human body gone awry.  But we are called to not be afraid.  It doesn't win.

Dec 29 2018 John 7:37-52

The morning prayer readings for this morning are aligned with the commemoration of Thomas a Becket, who was martyred by fellow Christians because of well-intentioned disagreements, clearly with life or death consequences.

The reading from the Gospel of John occurs when the authorities are building their case against Jesus. Good old Nicodemus comes to his defense, reminding them that the law doesn't judge without first giving them a hearing. Their response is to scoff at him and his adherence to those pesky rules.

This reminds me of the situation we're in today. From our government laws and standards:
All men are created equal. Except when I think they aren't.
Innocent until proven guilty. Except when they've been guilty in the past.

And from our faith:
Seek and serve Christ in all people. Except if I disagree with their political views.
Respect the dignity of every human being. Except if they don't deserve it based on their actions.
Strive for justice and peace on the earth. Except if justice means I get less or have to give up what I worked for.

I don't think this is easy. And I don't do it myself all the time. But I believe these truths to be true. Always. And I believe that unless you start from a place of absolute belief, it's impossible to be true.

As soon as we are able to provide our own version of "except...", we're off the hook. As soon as we can make these commitments while crossing our fingers and counting the exceptions, we've lost.

Start with believing it's just plain true. Let the disonence be between your beliefs and your actions, not between your public words and private beliefs.

Dec 28 2018 Mat 18:1-14

Feast of Holy Innocents

This morning's Gospel reading offers a wealth of things to think about.
- The disciples again asking, "Who is greatest in the kingdom?"
- Whoever becomes humble like a child, is the greatest in the kingdom
- Whoever welcomes a child in my name, welcomes me
- If your eye, hand or foot cause you to stumble, remove them.
-If a shepherd of a flock of 100 loses one, he leaves the 99 to find the one.

Each one of these have plenty to chew on, to think about, to wrestle with. A few of initial thoughts include:
. Why does it matter who's the greatest? And was the disciple just asking for their personal gain?
. I don't know many humble children. They haven't learned to be self-conscious. That deserves more research into what that word means in this context.
. As a foster parent/adoptive parent, I love the part about "whoever welcomes a child...". It was read at a liturgy at my church when our then-foster daughter joined our family.
. I'd rather learn to not stumble, to train my eye, hand or foot to pay attention better, rather than to take them out. Again, more thought is needed here.
. What about the 99?

So each of those could take pages and pages, hours and hours of thought, prayer and writing. This morning I'm drawn to the rather gruesome feast of the Holy Innocents. This is the day where the church commemorates Herod ordering the death of all newborn children in Bethlehem to try to end the possible threat of a new Messiah. Joseph is warned of this, so he and the family head to Egypt before the genocide reaches them.

Why remember this bit? Horrible atrocities are still occurring throughout the world, with genocide, maniacal leaders, and families fleeing from one country to another to escape harm. And horrible things are happening in this country, or by this country.

We need to acknowledge them, know they're happening by us, and on our behalf. It is horrible. And like back then, Love will ultimately win. The collect (or collecting prayer) for today concludes with, "by your great might frustrate the designs of evil tyrants and establish your rule of justice, love, and peace".

May God fill us all with the power to help establish the rule of justice, love and peace.

Dec 27 2018 John 13:20-35

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

This is what I love about Christ, and about Christianity. To be clear, I'm not suggesting that other God-loving people don't love each other. But through Christ's "new commandment", there can be no question about our responsibility to each other. No question about who's in and acceptable or who's out and shunned. We are to love each other as Christ loved us. Period.

There was a time, not long after the last presidential election, when I was having a deep conversation about politics, faith, acceptance and love. There were those who were aghast at the results of the presidential election, and were using terms like, "morally corrupt", and "the new Hitler". I countered that we should love everyone, on both sides of the political aisle. That we shouldn't sit in judgement and decide who was more favored; that was God's job.

I was shocked to hear from fellow Christian clergy that yes, we could. Their particular perspective was more true to Christ's, so the others were patently wrong. A Rabbi told me that Judaism didn't frown on judgment; that was a Christian thing.

To be clear, I'm not suggesting these perspectives (or mine) are right or wrong. I am saying that I truly value and appreciate the no-judgment-love-all I take from Christ's teachings. The end of the new testament reading from John this morning concludes with the line, "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." How can that be anything other than love. all?

Advent 2C 2018

Advent 2C 2018

St. Matthew’s Eugene

First, I want to thank Patti for inviting me back. And thanks to you all, for the warm welcome. For those who are new, hello! I’m Carter Hawley. I currently work for Bishop Michael as canon for administration and archdeacon, and previously served here as deacon. It is indeed good to see you. And second, thanks for inviting me to preach during Advent. Forget rain drops on roses and snowflakes and kittens.  Advent contains most of my favorite things.  Prophets.  Hymns I love, and the word “harbinger”.

First you’ve got the general themes of advent. Preparing, waiting, watching. And while I’m good at preparing, waiting isn’t one of my strengths. But looking around in our culture, I’d suggest few of us are good at it anymore. Waiting is something that’s not only devalued in our society, it’s almost a sign of weakness. We’re living in times of immediate gratification, one-click ordering and one day shipping. To wait for something means you are wasting your time and don’t have sufficient resources to speed everything up around you. I love Amazon delivery. One click, and a bag of dog food is delivered to my downtown apartment. Easier than schlepping it on a bike!

And to be clear, waiting isn’t necessarily fun; it always indicates that someone else is in control of something important to you. Your order, your doctor’s appearance, the water to boil, traffic to let up.  We don’t like wasting our time,  and we don’t like being dependent upon someone else’s timeline and priorities.  It indicates that we are in fact, not in control. But instead of being frustrated, maybe we can look at it as a pause – albeit of someone else’s choosing. But when you’re waiting, you aren’t doing, running, or solving anything. Times of waiting can provide needed space, time to hear yourself think. 

Today we hear all about John the Baptist. Not only is the Gospel focused on John, but in the place of a regular Psalm, we hear another passage from Luke, known as the song of Zechariah. Zechariah was the father of John the Baptist, and this canticle, or song is all about John the Baptist. An angel came to Zechariah, explaining that his old barren wife Elizabeth would bear a son and they should name the child John. When he questioned the likelihood of this unbelievable birth, he was rendered unable to speak until the child was born and named.  When his son was born, he wrote a note that the child’s name would be John, and he could again speak. What he spoke was this song, the Song of Zechariah.  “You my child will be called the prophet of the most high” Tender words from an old unexpected father. 

So back to the Gospel. It begins with the lengthy run down of places and rulers and on first blush, seems not relevant. “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius. . . “  etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.  Why do we care who was in charge? There are a couple of reasons to care. The first is that this is how stories were told, to put the story in context of time (the 15^th year) and space (governor of Judea).  They didn’t have clocks and calendars like we know them, so this was a way to mark a moment.

But there’s another interesting thing this section does. It gives us a very clear and early picture of what Jesus cares about, where he goes, and who he serves.  We’re at a time where the Roman empire has brutally conquered this region of the world. They were not known to be benevolent or kind in any manner. The people were oppressed and tired. They’re waiting for their savior to ride in on a white horse and kick those Romans to the curb.  The seat of power of the Roman empire is, in fact, Rome. So if there’s going to be a change in this world, it’s going to take place in Rome, right?  And that’s how this place setting phrase begins. In the 15^th year of the rule of Emperor Tiberius – Rome. But then it continues. In Judea – but at least it’s a Roman in Judea.  But wait.  While all of these names are institutions of power, they’re getting further and further away from Rome and the Romans. By the end, we’re not even on the map. We’re in the wilderness, coming to a nobody. And this is who’s going to prepare the way? To usher in a new world?   Yes! Precisely.  And the same happens when Jesus arrives, in the backwater village of Bethlehem.  And it continues through Jesus’ ministry.  He loves all.  He dines with tax collectors and sinners. He heals the unclean. He seeks and serves the lost, the least and the last.  And he asks us to, too.  And John is sent to usher in this new world.

So what are to make of John the Baptist, with his animal skin clothes, insect diet, and wild hair?  What does it mean to be a prophet after all?  Culturally, there are two things I think of when I hear prophet, both of which are not entirely accurate, or at least don’t do John the Baptist justice. The first notion is that a prophet can see in the future. Truth be told, they cannot.  But what a prophet does do is to envision a world in the future that’s right and true. Using language from Presiding Bishop Michael Curry, prophets hold out for us God’s dream. That can be inspiring and promising, and comforting.  There is another way. 

The challenge with prophets is while some inspire and make real this vision of the future, other prophets are called to identify and name where we are now. Again, using Bishop Curry’s language, our human nightmare. Here’s where we are (hand down low), and here’s where we can be. 

That’s where the second image problem comes for prophets.  Once a prophet has identified God’s dream, and our human nightmare, a prophet identifies the breach – the gap between where we are, and where we might be. This is where we get the image of the bible-waving street corner prophet. You’re all doomed. Repent.  This kind of prophet, the John the Baptist kind of prophet makes us really uncomfortable. First, maybe their vision of the future is not my vision. And second, who do they think they are telling me I’m doomed?

To be clear, we need all kinds of prophets. Outlining the vision of where things can be, of God’s dream is critical and it gives hope.  And calling out the bad is also important, especially when society grows complacent. Someone needs to call out the wrong. The farther we are from God’s dream, the more we need the truth-telling prophets. It’s uncomfortable. John’s uncomfortable. And it’s necessary. 

John the prophet knows what this new world is to be like. He sees God’s dream for us.  And John also sees the human nightmare that people were living in, a nightmare of their own making. He called the out to turn away from those ways, and head towards the dream. 

We are all called to be prophets.  Not the scary condemning or freaky fortune teller kinds. I would challenge you this next year to give some thought to where you are called to be a prophet. Where do you see a human nightmare? Or of all of the nightmares you see, where are you most drawn?

And once you land on your nightmare, how are you called to be a prophet? To be the dream-maker, inspiring people to see and live into God’s dream for them? To provide hope and vision? Or are you called, like John, to be a truth-teller, to call out this human nightmare we are causing. Again, both are needed.  And because of that, maybe we need to find someone who’s the other kind of prophet, to go out in pairs.  To hold out God’s dream, and to call out the human nightmare. 

Whichever way you do it, be a prophet. As Zachariah tells you, “You, my child, shall be called a prophet of the most high”. 

Amen.  

                                 

December 4 #AdventWord #FOCUS

Today, I'm thinking about what focus isn't. It isn't multi-tasking. Other than when we're talking about computer processers, we should eliminate the concept from our vocabulary. Studies have found that humans cannot multi-task. We may be increasingly efficient at switching between one thing and another, but during that switch, everything suffers - time is lost as your brain re-focuses on its new task, and you have to quickly recall where you were with the new task. It's a dumb concept for humans. 

I'm striving to be less multi-tasked at work, in my brain and with my family, to actually focus on one thing at a time. Novel, huh?  

     At work, I have a ginormous list that I've historically flit through. Recently, I've identified the 3-5 things I need to accomplish today. Magically, when I focus on the big things, they are completed. When my 3-5 things turns into 10 because of a super-busy day, I lean on gimmicky-but-effective tools, like the Pomodoro Method, which work very well for me. 

     At home, I will keep the phone down at all times, except when I'm alone. or need to do something as a part of our conversation. I'll listen intently.

     In my head, I'm really good at pretending to multi-task. I think hundreds of thoughts, each of which receives about 3 seconds of my attention. That means they're all half-baked, both the bad and the good. Journaling in the morning has helped that. I spend 20 minutes writing. It affords me the time, and trains my brain to finish a thought; to focus on one thought to its completion. How else would I have had anything to say about Focus? And how else would I take time for thinking about faith and God?

For this new church year, I aim to continue to focus on where I am, what I'm doing, who I'm with. I'd like to increase my focus on what I think about faith, God and that dance I'm in with the Holy.