Tag: John

In the Name

Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29 salt
Mark 9:38-50

Every fall, I begin to get petitions from charities to donate money in the name of others for Christmas gifts, or to bring these charities to you all to take a church collection in the name of St. Michael’s. How does the UCC, or our church consistory, or I, ever pick which groups to speak about and which ones to ignore? Likely the same way you do: you look at the work they are doing. Well, most charities are doing good. So how to you further delve in? Maybe you look at how much of your donated money goes to the causes being served. Or maybe you look at all the stances of the organization and see if you agree with each one of them.

Whenever I do the last one, I begin to get upset. Some of the best international aid groups helping communities overseas also have stances against women being preachers. Or they believe in Bible to be literal in all things. Or they teach exclusion to divorcees, gays and lesbians, or another group they consider too sinful. Some only use the King James Version of the Bible and utterly ignore the scholarship of the Dead Sea Scrolls on our scripture. And some just flat out aren’t Christian. Can I support Muslim charity? A Buddhist charity? Where some of my funds help bring water to rural women, but some also provide non-Christian educational materials?

I see lots of cries to reject this or that charity from my fellow Christians. Don’t support the Salvation Army – they have a policy against gays. Don’t support the American Cancer Society because they provide funding to IVF (In-vitro-fertilization), abortion, and other fertility clinics. Don’t support the Humane Society of the United States because it doesn’t actually help humane societies, but is a lobbyist group formed to fight the Farm Bureau. I get overwhelmed. I just want someone doing good.

So I turn to churches. But this church over here with the great youth program teaches a theology that focuses on humanity as hopelessly fallen, filled with sin, and worms before God. And this church over there does wonderful work with elderly but believes baptism is only for believing adults and not infants. Here at Saint Michael’s, we donate to our association and its work, but not to the national church because some ten or fifteen years ago we disagreed with their national stance. What will we do when we no longer have associations but have all become one?

I know I can’t find a church that is working in the name of Christ in just the way I would work… anywhere.

What about Christians? Individuals? Can I find one person who is doing good in the name of Christ in just the perfect way? Who believes just as I do; who acts as I think a Christian ought; who has the time and energy and knowledge to do all the good they can, for all the right people, at all the ideal times?

Not even in the mirror can I find this Christian.

There is no charity, no church, no person I wholly agree with on all things – including myself.

How can we all be one when even a single person disagrees with themselves? How can we do any good in the world when every good is tainted with something we disagree with?

Jesus’ disciples want to know the same thing. Jesus is standing with them with a toddler in his arms and has been explaining that the toddler, out of all the disciples with their unique miraculous healing powers from Christ, is the most important.

The disciple John interrupts to tattle, “Jesus – someone is outside healing in your name. We tried to get him to shut up. He’s not one of us.”

The Greek pacing of Jesus’ tone is one of frustration and being interrupted. He explains to John, “Don’t stop him! For no one who does or receives good in my name is able to curse me. For whoever is not against us is with us. For whoever does good for my name – even if it is a cup of water – is rewarded.”

Jesus then slows his pace down and returns to his conversation regarding the toddler, but now adding in this non-disciple doing good. “Whomever puts a road block, a stumbling block, in the way of these little ones – these little children, these people new to the faith, these non-disciples who may yet become disciples – whoever harms their budding faith should be cut out of the Body of Christ.” I picture Jesus pointing to the disciples – these members of the body of Christ – and naming them. You are the foot of the Body of Christ. You are the eye. You are the ear. You are the hand. And as he goes down the line he tells each person, each body part, that you think you are essential. And yes, hands and eyes and feet and ears are essential… but none of you are the body. The body can survive without you. Oh but we want you! But the body is better off without you if you’re going around harming others in the name of the body.

If you’re going around in the name of Jesus preaching hate – you’re not needed. We’re better off without you.

If you’re going around excluding in the name of Jesus – it’s better if you were cut off.

If you’re going around harming, killing, in the name of Jesus – the body will survive by removing you.

But if you’re going around preaching love – the body welcomes you even if you’re not Christian.

If you’re going around including in the name of Jesus – we may not agree with your methods, or theology, or all your stances… but we include you.

If you go around healing, enlivening, bringing wholeness – doing something even as simple as giving a glass of water to someone – doing ANY kindness – then we’re of the same cloth. We’re of God’s Love. God’s body – because we are not against one another.

How can we all be one? Jesus says it’s by being united in love for God and one another. United. Not the same. Not all doing the same. Not all believing the same. Not all having the same theology, the same belief on stances, the same ideas on how to do good. Not all identical. But united in wanting and working for a more loving world for all.

While Jesus stands with his disciples and a toddler, Moses stands before God and with his elders. We hear how the Israelites hunger for meat. So Moses goes to God and says – God, these are the people you birthed and raised. Why are you not mothering them? I’m just one man! So God replies God will mother them and give the people more meat than they can ever eat, and will share the Holy Spirit upon the elders so that Moses has more leaders to help out with the large camp. We read how the Spirit comes upon the gathered elders in the center tent, and they gain powers of charisma and prophecy.

But two guys not in the center tent ALSO gain this. Like John, someone goes and tattles. Like John, Joshua tells Moses – stop them! They’re not with the in group! They’re not one of us! Moses, like Jesus, replies – let them be. Moses proclaims, “I wish that all God’s people were prophets – and that God would put the Holy Spirit upon them!” Moses dismisses the idea there is a competition among who is the best and proper follower of God and who isn’t. He dismisses the idea that God’s voice can only be found within established institutions, within churches. Moses says God will speak where God wills – and Moses wishes we all were given the Holy Spirit!

At Pentecost, we were! At our baptisms, we were! And God is limited by neither and will send God’s Holy Spirit to speak love to the world wherever people are receptive to receive it.

In these, our selves, our flawed selves, God speaks. In these, our institutions, our charities, our churches, God speaks. In our imperfect following of Jesus, in our imperfect ways of living together, in our imperfect good deeds – God speaks.

The name of God – the name of love – perseveres. And anyone speaking in love is an ally.

To your left is a body part of Jesus. And you are not that same body part. To your right is a body part of Jesus. And you’re not that same body part. That is good. We are different. But you’re both working for the same thing: working for love. Working in the name of Love. Working in the name of Jesus. We are not enemies. We are family. We are one body.

We are salt. Salt brings out the best in food. It makes sweets sweeter, savory dishes more savory, and even makes cold dishes colder.

We are salt. Salt heals. Salt water rinses help the body heal itself. Salt brings balance to the body’s ions and helps electricity flow from one member to another.

Salt is essential to life. Animals gather around salt licks and lick the salt off our sweat because salt is so essential to well living. It tastes amazing. Our bodies crave it.

When we stop being salt, what are we? I have a box of salt at home. It reads: Ingredients – Salt. That’s it. Nothing more. When I remove the ingredient salt – what is left in my box?

Nothing.

When we stop being the sprinkle of salt that brings out the best in others, and in the world around us, what are we?

Nothing.

When we stop being the radical lovers, the generous givers, the includers, the ones saying ‘more the merrier!’ and throwing open our doors to all people, all races, all genders, all sexes, all ages, all who want to live in the name of Love – who are we?

Maybe just a social group. Or a family reunion group. Without the love of God, love of our neighbor, love of ourselves, and love of all strangers – we cannot say we’re the body of Christ. We cannot say we’re salt that brings out the best, the flavor, of all.

You’ll never agree 100% with any human, including yourself. You’ll never agree 100% with any denomination, any church, any charity. But you never have to agree 100% to appreciate the good they do.

Go and be salt. Be the church. Be love.

Amen.

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Angry Christians

angerEphesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51

I get irrationally angry sometimes over the most silly, trivial things. I was parking the other day. There were only 2 spots left in the little lot. One in front of the other. A car went down the first lane, I went down the second. Now we’d both have the last two spots.

The lady decided to pull through – and take both spots.

I was more angry with her than the situation called for. I broke into tears. I usually cry when I’m angry. And my body tenses up. Sometimes my body shakes as my blood pressure rises. My heart beats fast and I get a sweat. I feel it all over me – do I fight, or do I flee?

It’s like I’m threatened.

I feel threatened and angry. Threatened not by the other person – they bothered me – but threatened by my own body.

My own body is betraying my emotions. It is threatening to make me yell. Threatening to make me cuss. Threatening to — I don’t know. Explode? Roar?

Lose my smile, I think. And lose my calm exterior. And lose my control.

That’s it.

I can’t control my feelings.

I get angry! And then my body reacts, and I can’t control my body. My body betrays my emotion of anger! With one unthinking park job, this woman ripped all this control from me.

I can’t be Christian and be angry, can I? For Jesus in Matthew says, (5:21-22) “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.”

I’m liable to judgment for being angry. And it would have been better to give her a one-finger salute than to have called her a name like You Fool, You Pea-Brain, or You… [ fill in your favorite insulting title that I’m not going to say from the pulpit.]

Even today Paul tells us in scripture to put away our wrath and anger, wrangling and slander, and malice. That these things grieve the Holy Spirit. (Ephesians 4:30-31).

So what sin have I done in my anger by sitting in my car staring at that woman, angry, crying, and asking, “What in the world is wrong with you? Learn to drive, you fool!” Am I going to hell?

Maybe I should have picked up my cross, kept my mouth shut, not gotten emotional, been serene, and kept it all inside. It would be torture. It would be somehow mastering feeling only the emotions I want to feel. I think it would be dying to myself.

I know plenty of Christians who try to live this way, and teach others to live this way.

Bottle that anger up. Better – don’t even feel it in the first place.

That’s real fine and dandy until someone takes your parking spot and you roar in your car.

WHY did I explode inside? Why did I feel so much anger? It happened so fast!

I think because “never be angry” is not possible for ANY human at all.

God gave us anger. God gets angry, a lot, in the Bible. Jesus got angry. Prophets and people got angry. Our church mothers and fathers got angry. Anger is an emotion all complex creatures feel — from the anger of a rat having their food stolen to the anger of God – and everyone and every creature in between – we get angry.

Often, the Bible talks about righteous anger. So maybe Christians ought to only have righteous anger and not selfish anger. I’ve heard this argued, lived, and preached too.

The woman taking my spot wasn’t an affront, an insult, a sin against God. So my anger wasn’t justified. Had she done something truly heinous (like purposefully harm someone, steal money out of greed, blasphemy against God )I should be righteously furious. But since this was just taking my spot, I didn’t have a right to be angry. It wasn’t right – righteous – anger.

I should be righteously angry at injustice – just like God. I should be righteously angry at evil – because that is the opposite of our good, loving God. I should be righteously angry at everything that perverts, blasphemies, harms the relationship of any with the Holy. Scripture, especially the First Testament’s stories, speaks often of God’s anger getting provoked and God taking action. But it also speaks of God being “slow to anger, and rich in love” (Psalm). And James has the popular phrase “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” (James 1:19).

Righteous anger is an anger that is educated, controlled, slowly comes to be, but quickly passes as soon as forgiveness is petitioned. An anger based out of love.

I didn’t have righteous anger over where I wanted to park my car. Was my anger the sin Paul tells us today to not have? The sin that Jesus says makes us liable, prone to, hell?

Although many Christians would say yes, I think otherwise. And I didn’t always think this way. It’s been a process of change.

As a child I saw when my parents got angry. We all do. My mother believed the Christian thing to do when angry is to not say a thing if you have nothing nice to say. Or, in Paul’s words today, “Let no evil talk come out of your mouths.” So she kept her anger inside. An icy, steely silence would fill her when she was angry. She still smiled. She still nodded along. Usually the person she was speaking to had no idea they were crossing a line. I knew! I saw it in the way her smile was tight and thin. I saw it in the stiff way she walked. This internal anger simmered and brewed inside of my mother never expressed.

I learned to bottle my anger like she did. This or that person would minorly insult me, and I’d bottle it up. I’d not say anything. Then they would do it again. And still I would smile and say to myself I was forgiving their trespass by not speaking a word. But over time, angry drop by angry drop filled up my internal bottle. And the person I was growing more and more angry with never had a clue. Because I kept smiling. I kept it to myself. My silence was my anger. My tension in my body my anger.

I began to say little things to OTHERS about being angry with So-And-So. Over coffee. In the parking lot. Over Facebook. But not to So-And-So’s face. Oh no – I couldn’t. This wasn’t righteous anger, so it had to be sinful anger that I – as Christian – am not allowed to have.

And then one day, something happens… like my parking spot is taken… and all that anger that’s been pushed and shoved into a bottle inside me goes off like the cap on a shook bottle of New Year’s campaign. And I get irrationally angry over something stupid and silly. I get way more angry than I ought to be for the situation. I lose control of my emotions, my body, and after roaring — then sit in grief and self-hate at my sinful anger.

Sinful anger, I used to tell myself. What do you do with that? Shove the anger into that now empty bottle… and repeat the process.

Does this sound familiar to any of you? Are you a bottler of anger? Are you carrying about a lump in your stomach, or a tightness in your shoulders, that is all your pent up anger you won’t let yourself feel, or express, or even acknowledge?

I had a pastor once hand me a phone book. A big, thick one. She said, “I get angry. I get alone. I sit on the floor and I rip out big chucks of this and shred it. I yell. I do this until it all passes.”

I thought about yelling. I had a friend whose family yelled when they were angry. Loud, abusive language would flow from their lips. Insults and curses. These often were followed with belts, or hands, or sticks. While my house shoved everything into little hard diamonds of bitterness and grudges… my friend’s house spread anger to the four winds and over every relationship. Alcohol made it even more explosive there. It was a constant walk on eggshells.

Was this pastor telling me to just wallow in anger – to welcome it and throw it around like that household did? Telling me to be the pastor of a congregation ran this way?

No. Not at all. She told me a Buddhist teaching is to accept emotions as they come, feel them, and then let them pass. So when she got angry she recognized she was angry. She identified why she was angry. She felt the anger – ripping out some phone book pages – and when the anger was exhausted, she let it go.

No longer angry.

Nothing bottled.

Now she could address WHY she was angry. She could go ask the person who insulted her to not say such a thing again. She could try calling customer service again. She could look forward to her next sermon or meeting or visitation even if that was with the person who made her angry. She could re-enter a hospital situation where she has no control, cannot fix it, and is feeling nearly hopeless… and go into it being centered.

She told me today’s passage. “Be angry, but do not sin. Do not let the sun go down on your anger.”

Be angry.
We all get angry. Over righteous things and over unrighteous things.
We all get angry.

But do not sin.
Don’t harm your relationship with God. Don’t harm your relationship with others. Don’t isolate yourself and remove yourself from the community; and don’t scream profanities at others or name call or slap them or harm them.

Do not let the sun go down on your anger.
Don’t bottle it up, day after day, week after week, until you become a pressurized bottle ready to crack open over something silly. That bottled anger turns to bitterness, and grudges, and hate. The devil, writes Paul, settles into that pent up anger and encourages us to sin, to separate ourselves and others, more. That unspoken anger breaks relationships. The person you’re upset with may not even know what she or he is doing is bothering you. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. Speak about it. Speak the truth. Address the issue. And do something to express the anger.

And then let it go.

Paul doesn’t write anger is evil, or sinful. Anger just IS. It’s an emotion, an emotion God has given us. And we are full of many emotions.

Emotions cannot be controlled.

We do control what we do with those emotions.

Psalms tells us that to control our anger — not by never being angry, but by being able to feel it, express it, and let it pass — is more impressive than conquering a city. A huge feat. It takes time and practice.

Paul advises we practice doing no evil with our emotions.

Evil is what harms, what intentionally causes hurt for the sake of hurt. Evil is what tears down the body of Christ…

Anger can be good, or bad. Holy or evil.
Anger can build us up.
Anger may be the words of grace we need to hear.

That woman who took my spot saw my expressed anger. I was more angry than I ought to have been… as I said, it is a process to learn to healthily express ourselves. But she saw my anger and backed up to give me room to park.

She saw my tears and asked me if I were okay.

I could have bottled it up. I could have continued to lie to myself about how I feel and lied to her. But I said the truth, “No. I’m not.”

That blessed stranger invited me to talk. So I did. I told her how I was there to euthanize my cat, and this was the final two spots, and the whole week had been full of stress and anger, and I’ve been trying not to express any of it, and…

In the end, I was given tissues, and volunteers like the woman in the lot helped me through my day. I was given grace and hospitality. Kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving… building one another up.

We’re instructed to do these things. Instructed to embrace one another just as we are, with all our emotions, all our feelings, and then help one another towards shalom.

Shalom is being healthy, inside and out, body and mind and soul, being whole. Shalom is peace. True peace. Not the peace of steely silence. Not the peace that is so thick you suffocate. Not the peace of a house walking on eggshells.

But true peace.

The peace where we understand and support one another. The peace where we are free to express our emotions – without judgment. The peace where we can speak truthfully to one another and, because we are in covenant, not fear one another will gossip, slander, or react with malice. Peace where we are authentic with ourselves, with one another, and know we are forgiven and loved and welcome.

Peace, Jesus tells us. Peace. Take time to savor the Bread of Life, to release the shaken up, and return to peace, to shalom.

Be angry, but do not sin – and don’t bottle it up and let the sun go down on your anger.

Amen.

Abiding Bread

Ephesians 4:1-16 breadoflife
John 6:24-35

Meno. It’s an ancient Greek work that John uses all the time. 33 times, actually, more than anyone else in the Bible. It means to remain, abide, to sojourn, tarry, not to depart, to continue to be present, to be held, kept, continually, to continue to be, not to perish, to last, endure, to survive, live, to remain as one, not to become another or different, to wait for, await one.

As in — Do not work for food that perishes, but for the food that “meno” to eternal life.

The food that sojourns with you to eternal life. That waits with you for eternal life. That does not perish, that is kept, that is held, that survives, that lives, that does not waver or faint or change but is faithfully staying and remaining and enduring with you.

Food for the journey. Food that journeys.

The disciples ask Jesus for a sign, a miracle, proving they can trust his words. They clearly missed the miracle on the other side of the sea. Jesus even says as much – you’re here because you want food. Not because you saw the signs. The sign the people ask for is something like manna – like bread from heaven, just like Moses gave on the wilderness journey.

Jesus corrects them – God gave you that bread from heaven. Moses was your prophet, your mentor or pastor or leader. But the miracle wasn’t from Moses. It was from God. God gives the food. God sets the table.

And God now gives you the true bread of heaven. The meno bread. The everlasting bread. The life of the world. The bread of life.

This sojourning bread keeps you going, gives you life, keeps and preserves you. This surviving bread doesn’t perish over time like the manna did. This ever-living bread is ever-filling you up.

This is the same sermon Jesus gives to the Samaritan woman at the well about her water and Jesus’ water. Here is it bread. There it is water. Always it is about how God grants us abundant life through Jesus the Christ.

Paul’s letter today is an example of that. He is a prisoner, literally, for preaching Christianity. But he keeps living abundantly, writing, loving, and growing. He doesn’t give up. He keeps eating the bread for the journey and drinking from the overflowing cup.

This overflowing cup and meno, abiding bread, gives hope. Optimism. Determination. Resiliency. A higher purpose. Positive self-image. Truthfulness. Self-awareness. Community minded. Loving others and feeling loved. These are things that our faith gives us. Things that the medical fields and scientists note truly influence our lives.

A person who has a “will to live” tends to bounce back from setbacks more easily than a person who doesn’t.

A person who knows Jesus is with them – no matter what “lower part of the Earth” – what hell – they find themselves in is a person who is more likely to persevere than a person who feels utterly alone and isolated.

We meno, we endure and survive and live and sojourn together because of the meno bread, the bread of life, we share.

As we come to the table today, reminds yourselves that this meno, ever abiding bread unites us in one eternal (meno) life, into our one ever present (meno) God, so that we all continually (meno) are built into one body with Jesus as our head.

Amen.

Nothing is Lost

broken-bread-crumbs2 Kings 4:42-44
John 6:1-21

Lives get shattered. Broken.

And when they’re broken, they are like hard barley bread and crumbs, pieces and flecks go absolutely everywhere.

Tragedies break us. Unexpected, awful, unfathomable things. I remember the feeling of when I was ripped in two. How the world slowed to nothing. How the realization of what had happened – the unspeakable – curled in my stomach. It felt like I was falling. I did fall. It felt like I was unable to breath. I wailed. I kept trying to think and yet my brain was free spinning and unable to pick up any thought for more than a second or two.

Broken.

When Jesus took the bread at the Passover supper with his closest friends, he held it up and broke it. “This is my body, broken for you.”

Shattered. Scattered. Broken.

At a previous Passover, according to John, Jesus sat in the wildness. On a mountain or high hill. As he looked up from praying and resting, he saw the valley becoming full of people. A crowd had followed him. They’d followed the signs and seen all that Jesus was doing for the sick. Rather than staying home and celebrating, or going to the city to visit the Temple and sights, for the holiday these people have utterly left all they know and followed Jesus into the wilderness.

Jesus sees this, and turns to Philip to ask, “Where are WE to buy bread for these people to eat?”

Not – where are they going to eat? Where are they going to sleep? What will shelter them in the heat of the noon sun? How could they be so stupid to come this far unprepared? How did they let themselves get into this mess?

No. Jesus takes responsibility of his flock. WE are going to feed them. But how? WE are going to care for them. But how?

This is not asking them to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. Jesus sees they don’t even have those. These are the desperate. The forsaken. The leftovers of society.

The “undesirables.”

But WE are going to welcome, and care, for them.

Philip looks at the mass of crowd and is bewildered, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” We don’t have money to even properly feed ourselves – we’ve been living on charity. How are we going to feed everyone?

Philip realizes how broken the crowd is. Each of their lives are shattered in different ways.

Some are besot by the demon of mental illness. This is long before antidepressants, mood stabilizers, and psychologists. And then, just as now, people’s brains could be born with or develop illnesses. Then, as now, a stroke could steal your loved one’s memories, or even personality. It could break the family up one chunk at a time. Then, as now, Alzheimer’s Disease worked the same way. Then, as now, PTSD brought flash backs and hallucinations and panic attacks. The crowd is asking to be whole again.

Others in the crowd have been broken spiritually. Inside. In their souls. Women were told only men can work in the official religion. Men ought to be the leaders. Were told if they got unwanted attention from men, it was because they were dressing wrong. Or speaking wrong. It was never the man’s fault. Children were told to be seen but not heard. That they were too young to participate but must act like adults and sit still. They were considered the most easily replaceable. Men were told they could not cry, or show ‘woman-emotions.’ They couldn’t spend too much time with their children and it was their responsibility to protect the family. How do you protect the family from tragedy? From car accidents? From senseless accidents? The crowd came seeking to be recognized as who they are. Valuable just as they are. Loved, without needing to prove their worth. Spiritually seeking to be whole again.

The Bible tells us many sought physical wholeness. Being able to see again, or walk again, or even be alive again. How many elderly came seeking relief from arthritis? How many brought worn out hips, cavity-filled teeth, sugar issues, and suspicious growths? How many brought children born with deformities, teens suffering broken bones, and workers missing fingers or hands? Our bodies break. Shatter. We glue them back together, but with each gluing, the fragile clay pot gets weaker and weaker. People came to Jesus seeking their physical bodies to be whole again.

And instead of telling all these people to heal themselves, care for themselves, put their lives back together… Jesus says WE are going to help facilitate their healing. WE won’t send them packing. WE will feed them.

But how?

Philip is at a lost. There is so much need and so little ability to help. Who am I to take on an issue like AIDS, or homeless, or domestic abuse? How can I do anything? If I gave up 1/2 of my year’s income, these problems would STILL not be cured.

A little boy approaches and offers his basket. Andrew brings the group’s attention to the child, “This boy has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?”

There is a kid I know of selling lemonade and giving the money raised to Children’s Hospital for coloring supplies for the kids. But what are five dollars and two cents among so many hurting kids? Will they each get a postage stamp piece of paper and a little snippet of broken crayon smaller than their pinkie nail?

And Jesus replied – have everyone sit down. And Jesus took what was offered in the little basket, and he gave thanks. Thanks to the boy for his generosity. Thanks to God for lovingly providing for us. And then Jesus handed out the bread and fish. Miraculously the five little barley dinner rolls and the two fish not only provided a feast for 5,000 people… as much fish and bread as they could handle, until they were fully satisfied, but there was bread and fish left over, too.

How?

Some have argued the generosity of the boy inspired everyone else to share their food.

Some have argued this is a story people began to tell about Jesus later, and it didn’t happen exactly this way. As we heard in our first reading, a sign of a prophet – a man of God – is they can multiply food and feed many. Elisha does that in our first reading. He even has leftovers, just as Jesus does.

And most Christians argue Jesus fed the 5,000 with a miracle – with the power of God. If you heard, when the disciples see Jesus walking ON water – rather than parting it like Moses – they ask “Who are you?” And Jesus answers “It is I.” Or, translated another way, “I am.” I Am is the name God identifies God’s self to Moses in the burning bush. I am. I be. I was. I will be. The Great I Am. The miracle is possible because all things are possible for God.

And God is known through Jesus to us; God is known as the one who won’t turn away any who seek God; God is known as the one who will break God’s own body, God’s own heart, to feed us… much like how a loving parent or grandparent will make sacrifices to provide for their child… or how a earnest hearted little boy will give up everything in his basket for a crowd of strangers.

God is generosity. And God is wholeness.

12 baskets of leftovers are picked up after the feast. 12 is a number of wholeness, plenty, the number of Israel’s tribes in the Bible. 12 is how many disciples there are. After the miracle, each disciple has in his own hands a basket of provisions when before they had nothing to eat. When one gave his bread, his body, his life, for others… everyone had more than enough.

Whatever is in our baskets… if we share, God multiplies that goodness, so that all our needs and others’ needs are met. Call it inspiring generosity. Call it a guiding myth. Call it a miracle. Call it whatever you will, but when we live our lives serving others, we gain our lives. We gain wholeness. We gain just what we came out to the wilderness seeking from Jesus: healing. Completeness. And we come away with our baskets heaped with more goodness and wholeness to share with others.

Broken lives find Jesus. Broken people. And Jesus gathers us up. He is concerned that not a single thing is wasted. No experience. No thought. No life. Nothing is lost to God. Everything is gathered up, every little bit, and put to good use.

The little crumbs and fragments of when our lives shattered Jesus tenderly gathers and says, “Let’s put meaning to this.” “Let’s bring good out of this.” Not that being broken is good. Not that bad things happen for good reasons. No… but rather… let’s take this awful thing, and through the miracle of God, choose to bring something good out of it. Choose to take it, just as it is, broken and fragmented and leftover, and work with God to bring about wholeness, healing, and hope in the midst of the chaos.

The child giving a coloring book and box of crayons to Children’s Hospital isn’t going to give one to every child there through their lemonade sales. But to a single child – they have given the world. Our community is not going to cure world-hunger by supporting Heifer International. But to another community, we have ended hunger. Nothing but Christ’s return shall ever bring back my daughter, but I offer my brokenness, my leftovers, to Christ and beg they be gathered up and used for good. Even if that helps just one other life.

And they are. Miraculously, God brings forth goodness out of evil. Healing out of brokenness. Connectedness and community out of isolation.

We’re asked to offer what we have now in our baskets, even if we know it isn’t enough to help EVERYONE. It will help SOMEone. Offer it to the person before us now… and trust God will work miracles.

And God does.

And then nothing is ever truly lost.

Amen.

Breaking Down the Dividing Wall

Ephesians 2:11-22 ArizonaBorder.jpg
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

Let me tell you what’s in the news –

– Ah. I see winces. You don’t want to hear it. It isn’t the news you want to hear.

It’s news about how our nation is being made great again. It’s news about non-Citizens suffering wanton abuse from government officials. It’s news of traitors, protests, uprisings, capital punishment, corruption and refugees and job woes and trade wars and unfair taxes and …

These are the headlines… from 62 AD.

Into this mess, Paul writes the Ephesians a letter that makes them wince and look over their shoulders with fear.

He writes, “Remember, at one time you were immigrants by birth, called illegal immigrants by the citizens – a status given to you by humans and not God – remember that you were at one time without Christ, being an alien to the land of God’s people, strangers to its laws, and without hope, and without God. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.

For Christ makes our nation great again. He is our peace. In his flesh, he made both immigrant and citizens into one group and broke down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments of who is or isn’t a citizen based on birth, that Christ might make in himself one new nation in place of two, thus making the nation great again, thus the peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. So Christ came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off in other lands and peace to those who were near in this land; for through Christ both of us have access in one Spirit to the same God.

So you are no longer strangers and aliens to one another. You are no longer countrymen and women of this human nation or that. But you are citizens with the saints and also members of the house, the nation, of God, built upon the foundation of the non-citizen apostles and the citizen prophets, with Jesus Christ as your cornerstone. As your president. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple, a holy place, in God. You, listening to this letter, are also built together spiritually as one into a dwelling place, a home, for God.”

Does it make you as uncomfortable in 2018 AD as it made the Ephesians in 62 AD? It should. Paul is challenging Caesar and his claims of making a great nation built on peace. That peace is built on the back of murdering people, such as Jesus. It is built on having citizens who can do as they want to non-citizens. It is built on corruption, deception, hostility, and lies.

The Spirit is challenging our nation and its claims of making itself great again and a land of liberty. This liberty is being built on the back of murdering people who are like Jesus: who are our fellow Christians. It is built on having citizens living safely in homes while non-citizens lie on concrete floors, with aluminum foil for blankets, in rooms kept at 62 degrees or lower. It is liberty built on corruption, deception, hostility, and lies.

I am uncomfortable. Like the Ephesians, I am looking over my shoulder and wondering who else just heard what Paul wrote. Who else heard Paul claim my citizenship — which lets me tuck my daughter into bed at night — and my skin color — which lets me drive without being at risk of a cop shooting me — and my flesh — all this who I was born as — Paul is claiming my flesh is nothing. God has taken it away. I’m wearing the flesh of Christ.

I’m wearing the flesh of a Middle Eastern man who is challenging my government.

A man tortured and killed by my own government.

Paul’s news is uncomfortable. To we readers in 62 AD and in 2018 AD.

He tells me that the wall of hostility I was born into is false, wrong, and ungodly. In Christ there is only one flesh. If I am truly born again in Christ, then my body is Christ.

My citizenship is Christianity.

My brothers and my sisters are all who are Christian.

My cousins are all who follow God.

My neighbors are all of humanity.

For all who were baptized into Christ have clothed ourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female. Or, there is neither Hispanic nor American, impoverished nor affluent, male nor female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus.

There is a wall of hostility we are called to oppose.

We are called to break down walls that divide us. Physical walls – barrier walls – border walls. And social walls – walls preventing access to medical aide, equal rights, security. We’re called to break down spiritual walls – the kind that make us hate seeing a hijab or star of David, or making room for other faiths in our schools, and jobs, our homes, and even our churches. We’re called to be citizens of a new nation that abolishes all the old laws with a new law of love. We’re called to be citizens that give up our nationalities, our own flesh, our own births, for a new nation in Christ’s body through being born again in the Spirit.

We’re called to love our neighbor.

Love our selves.

And even love our enemies.

For we are known as Christian by our love.

What does this citizenship of God look like? All we have to do is look to Jesus as our role-model to see.

Jesus today makes more political commentary. Shepherd is the image of the leader of the land. The person who keeps the sheep, the people, safe. He or she is who provides peace, provides good food and clean water, scares off the wolves, and lets the people multiply. In the reading before today, we met ancient Israel’s shepherd, Herod. He foolishly takes his sister-in-law as his wife, and promises their daughter anything she wants. To fufill this promise, he has to murder the prophet of God, John. He fed his heads of state but served his sheep John’s head on a platter.

Out among the people, Jesus sees they are desperate. They have run from all the towns and villages around the sea of Galilee dragging and carrying their sick loved ones on mats and rugs, and on their backs and in their carts, laying them out in the center of the town begging Jesus to let them just touch the fringe of his cloak so they can be healed. The center of the town is the marketplace. The place of affluence. The sick are the outcasts, the homeless, the foreigners and supposed to stay away from the rich. But they overwhelm the shops, choke up the streets, and fill the air with their petitions.

Picture if the stock market had to be closed because the trading floor was filled with the family, friends, and neighbors of people targeted by ICE all begging for their children to be reunited, their loved ones having access to food, water, and a lawyer, and asylum. There would be anger from the elite who don’t want to be bothered by this. Chaos. Government officials calling for the ring leader of this ‘protest’ to be arrested, or shot. That ringleader is Jesus, and the Spirit.

Picture the highways now in Chicago – filled with black women begging the government to stop persecuting their sons as guilty criminals until proven innocent.

Picture the 99% protests.

These are people whose mortal shepherd has failed them. And Jesus has compassion. Jesus goes among them bringing healing. Tangible healing – such as attending a protest, or paying for a sitter or sitting kids so another can go to a protest, or donating money to organizations like HOLA Ohio to bail out mothers who have sat in prison for TWO MONTHS after being picked up here in Ohio…

And Jesus brings intangible healing along with the tangible, touchable, healing. Jesus we’re, told, begins to teach the crowds. He gives education.

Education such as… did you know that HOLA Ohio has found the rules to bail someone out is different every day? Currently: “Bond can’t be posted on the same day as court for the Michigan women; bond can’t be paid after 3 p.m. in the Cleveland office; bond must be paid with one cashier’s check, not two–even if both are addressed to U.S. Dept. of Homeland Security for the same individual on the same case, and were accepted that way last week, and so on and so forth.” (HOLA Ohio July 2018 Facebook Update)

Education such as… RAICES “staff and volunteer pro bono attorneys arrived at the Karnes detention center to meet with clients and were told they couldn’t meet with anyone as Karnes was empty. Around 3:45pm two of our pro bono attorneys watched as a bus was loaded at Karnes with mothers and children. Having been lied to all day, they decided to follow the bus from Karnes to see where they were being transferred to. An hour in to the drive they call our Comms Director to let her know they had been pulled over by 3 state troopers in SUV’s for “illegally” following the bus and demanded to see their client lists. They were held for 15 minutes by police, and now continue to follow the bus which looks to be headed to Dilley detention center.” (RAICES July 2018 Facebook Update)

Detention centers where children are ordered to stand, “No sitting on the floor, no hugging your siblings, and it’s best not to cry.” Or face bleach in your water, and guards kicking you if you sit during the 16 hours a day you must be awake. Where over 1,000 reports sexual abuse have been filed against ICE agents. ((https://www.nytimes.com/2018/07/14/us/migrant-children-shelters.html?smtyp=cur&smid=tw-nytimes; https://theintercept.com/2018/04/11/immigration-detention-sexual-abuse-ice-dhs/))

Education such as even though the government is purposefully trying to prevent lawyers and help to the refugees, groups like HOLA Ohio have volunteers who have “been spending up to 6 hours a day in the ICE office to post bonds, [paid] eight bonds to date, six bonds of $2,000 each and two bonds of $1,500 each, and arranged transportation through a network of volunteers for nine women to be reunited with their families.” A dozen more hearings are happening this week.

The Spirit of God is in us, because of our anointments in baptism in Christ, “to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Luke 18-19.

The Spirit of God is in us to tear down these dividing walls and be the good news to the poor. Be the ones paying bail. Be the ones teaching our family and friends and neighbors to open their blind eyes to see the hurt happening to the body of Christ — their own bodies. We are to use our privilege as citizens to the benefit of those oppressed. We are to proclaim the year of God’s favor — that God’s reign is now — the kin-dom is now — the nation of God is now — and no Mexican, Canadian, American, Russian, British or any other human government is going to stop us from loving one another.

Because we are citizens of heaven. Our leader is God. Our God is love.

Amen.

Who Shall Go?

Isaiah 6:1-8img_20180529_120549549
John 3:1-17

A hundred years ago, it was easy to get a job no matter what your education level. Indeed, having a high school diploma was something fancy. I have one framed in my basement from about 1920. It is huge! 18 inches by 24 inches, all gilded up and painted, and stamped. I bet our high school graduates did NOT get a diploma like this. I think they got a nice one – but they didn’t get their name in three-inch-tall calligraphy.

But eventually, a high school diploma didn’t cut it for the average job seeker. In my generation, to get an entry level job, you usually have to have a college degree. What college degree is in doesn’t really matter- English majors and math majors both pour coffee the same way- but if three people apply for a job and two have high school degrees and one has a college degree… the college person is getting the job.

I’ve heard it rumored that a master’s degree is going to be the next bench mark for my daughter’s generation.

What’s going on?

Having those diplomas are short-hands. Easy answers for employers who don’t know you personally, and don’t have time to know you personally. They look at their big stack of resumes and cut out the ones with the fewest diplomas first, and then the second fewest, and so forth, until there is a short enough list to manage.

Why?

Some may say “This is how we’re getting the smartest workers.”

Yet, I know people who didn’t graduate from high school, barely read, and yet – run massive, successful, businesses. And, the doctor student who graduates the first in her class is still called the same thing as the student who graduates dead last: Doctor. And some schools practically pass every teen; and some make it hard and competive – even though they are both public high schools.

Intelligence and a diploma aren’t actually tied together, when we think about it.

But a diploma is shorthand for knowledge.

In today’s story, picture Nicodemus as a heavily doctor’d up man. Nicodemus knows a lot. A lot of a lot. He can read and write, he can teach; in fact, he teaches the teachers. He knows his scripture forward and back, and is famous enough to be called the leader of the teachers in this area. Number one. Their representative. Their smartest guy. His wall is full of diplomas from all the prestigious schools.

When he comes to Jesus, he chooses to go under the cover of darkness. Maybe he’s ashamed.

Maybe he doesn’t want anyone to lose their confidence in him – he, who has all the answers – who now is going to someone without a formal education. It would be like the surgeon general asking a cashier about how to do brain surgery.

Maybe Nicodemus comes secretly wishing for knowledge, more insight, into Jesus.

We don’t know his reasons. We do know he comes in the dark, symbolizing in John’s book ignorance, and Nicodemus leaves again still in the dark… still befuddled and not understanding.

I’m not really sure if Nicodemus is complementing Jesus by telling him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God…” or if he is insulting Jesus.

As a complement, it means Nicodemus is willing to concede Jesus is godly, and an equal or greater — for the greatest teacher is calling Jesus teacher, Rabbi. And Nicodemus is setting the stage to ask Jesus how it is he must be from God, however… he has no formal education, no temple background, and is a homeless wanderer. You’re doing miracles, but – you were born in a barn. Really! What’s up?

This leads us into thinking maybe Nicodemus is being patronizing instead of complementing. Into Nicodemus talking down to Jesus, without even realizing it maybe. In today’s lingo, Nicodemus is rabbi-splaining. Explaining something in a manner that belittles the other person.

Jesus – let me tell you just who you are: you’re working signs, so you must be coming from God. I think Nicodemus would go on from here to quote lots of scripture to Jesus to explain just how Jesus must be coming from God.

Nicodemus is listening to himself laud himself on his own knowledge, and thinks everyone ought to listen to him and to how he knows better.

It’s an awful habit anyone who gets to be a specialist may begin to do.

With a shiny new high school degree, every teenager knows SO much more than their younger siblings. They can’t be right on anything of importance. Leave it to the graduated ADULTS to understand.

With that new college degree, every young adult knows just how naive, silly, and uneducated those with ‘only’ a college degree are. It’s insulting to compete against them for the same entry-level jobs!

We get big for our britches real fast.

We all do.

And then, we think we know best and don’t listen to what others know, or experience, or have to say.

Nurse: “I think this patient needs a different medication,”

Specialists: “No – no. I read about this condition in a medical book at med school – where I graduated with honors – and I know best.”

The nurse is ignored because of the perceived differences in rank. Just imagine how much the patient is ignored by this specialist!

Nicodemus the Specialists begins to tell Jesus just who Jesus is and what Jesus is about.

So Jesus begins to talk about who Jesus is – giving us these images of God our Parent sending Jesus our Brother to bring the kindom, all about us, which we can live into now through the Holy Spirit.

This was not the conversation Nicodemus was intending.

To Nicodemus’ credit, he stops trying to explain things to Jesus and asks for clarification. THAT is the amazing part to me. So many people refuse to ever become the student! They’d rather fight tooth and nail to remain the specialists, the teacher, the one in charge.

I think this is why at the end of John’s gospel, Nicodemus shows up again – this time in twilight, symbolizing he is coming out of the ignorant dark – to bring an offering to Jesus’ tomb. He’s willing to learn. Willing to teach and to be taught.

And so Jesus teaches him.

Jesus elaborates – explaining how those in the kindom are born of both water and Spirit. You and I are born of both baptism and the Holy Spirit. Or born of flesh, and then reborn with the Spirit in them. Both human and divine. Both a normal human, and yet a reflection of the living God.

And Jesus speaks of the Spirit, the Wind, like the wind outside. We don’t know where it started or where it will end. It goes where it will. It is mysterious. We don’t see the wind, but we see the effects of the wind. We see tree leaves rustle and we see deadly tornadoes. We feel the soft kiss of morning breezes and we feel the bitter wailing winds of winter. The Holy Spirit is the same – alighting, awakening, the great and the weak alike. Appearing in strange places, in strange people – unpredictable. We can’t see it. We can’t touch it. But we see what the Spirit does.

Nicodemus is flabbergasted.

Jesus childes him – why are you flabbergasted? I thought you were the teacher of teachers! I thought you were coming to teach me a thing or two!

As we mentioned, Nicodemus leaves in the dark. But the little light Jesus has lit in him grows and grows until Nicodemus begins to understand. Begins to accept there is more to this world than what is in our books. More in this world than what our science can explain. More to our faith than what can be contained inside a book — even a holy book like those of the Bible.

It takes being teachable to see it.

That’s really what a diploma represents. It isn’t intelligence – it is a symbol of teach-ability. It is a sign that this person with a diploma, by hook or by crook, knows how to learn.

Intelligence is hard to measure, for geniuses think uniquely.

But we can measure a person who is able to learn by giving them things to learn, and then testing how much they retain.

Really, what jobs are seeking are employees who are willing and able to learn new things.

Our first reading was Isaiah’s call story. It is a wild vision where Isaiah stands in the temple of God. God is so awesome, so terrifying, so massive and uncomprehendible that the hem of God’s robe fully fills the temple. Flying snakes that breathe fire – seraph – attend to God.

And Isaiah is scared to be here. He KNOWS he is a sinner! He KNOWS whatever he says is going to be the wrong thing. And he begins to apologize. He’s not here to argue why he isn’t a sinner, or explain to God just who God is.

Isaiah just says “Woe is me! I’m not holy enough to be here!”

So a coal is brought to his mouth, to burn him, and cleanse him. The seraph tells Isaiah that his sin is now gone.

Meanwhile, God asks the seraph around him, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”

The very first words out of Isaiah’s cleansed mouth are: “Here I am! Send me!”

I picture the surprise in the temple, in the world, in heaven. God was asking the angels about God which ANGEL should go… and instead, this little human volunteers. After our reading today, God tells the little human how badly the human’s mission is going to go. And tells him about how everyone around the human will have dull eyes and plugged up ears – and will get even more dazed out after hearing the prophet. No one wants to hear or understand the message from God. No one is teachable.

But Isaiah’s mission is to teach anyways.

To be a prophet anyways.

And his prophecies are some of our most treasured words.

In them we hear the coming of the Messiah, and the full reign of God on earth as God reigns in heaven. In Isaiah’s prophecies we hear things that have happened in the past, and things that will happen in the future.

Because this man was humble, and teachable.

We’re asked to be the same. Asked to never hold ourselves so highly that we forget to listen to one another. Asked to be teachable, willing and open to the prodding of the Spirit within us. We’re asked to remember that God doesn’t call the equipped. God equips the called. Nicodemus wasn’t asked to be a first disciple, although he well knew his scripture. That teenage fisherman Peter was called among the first. Scholars are pretty certain he couldn’t read or write.

We’re asked to be teachable. Willing and ready to go when God calls us – knowing God will equip us for the mission. And also willing and ready to volunteer – knowing that we are called to live in love.

What are we called to? Where should we volunteer to go?

The Spirit within you is ready to help you discern the will of God, if you’re open to it.

Amen.

Teeched in the Head – Pentecost

John 15:26-27:16:4b-15 Farmer.png
Acts 2:1-21

Jesus promises his disciples the Advocate, someone to argue in our favor and speak council to us. It will be a Spirit of Truth that comes from God and will testify, speak, words on Jesus’ behalf. This Spirit will guide us into Truth.

But when the Advocate came, after Jesus was gone, it sure didn’t look like Truth. The Holy Spirit took over the early Christians and they began to testify in many languages, babbling like at Babel, but instead of meaningless confusion, they speak meaningful stories of miracles and forgiveness and new life.

Some of the crowd sneers, “They’re drunk!” Drunk, and speaking nonsense.

As we heard, Peter counters, “They’re not drunk! Rather, ‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.”

But did you know, prophecy and senselessness come from the same Greek root meaning. Mantis is a seer, a prophet who foretells the future in ancient Greek; and mania is senselessness, madness.

In the ancient world, great oracles tended to have a temple where they put their head over a volcanic crack in the ground, or drank chemically tainted spring water, or consumed oleander, or one way or another got high. And then, in their drugged state, they spoke of the visions they saw.

In the Bible, John the Baptist is either a maniac or a mantis. He is in the desert, eating honey and bugs, dressed in camel hair. He is also foretelling the future, speaking of God’s coming, and calling people to return to their faith.

Unorthodox. Not normal. Offensive. Crazy. Insightful. Humanizing. Challenging. Touched by God.

Teeched, is what we said back home. Someone is teeched in the head by God. Touched in the head by God. And we meant they were not normal. Mentally ill, mentally different, or somehow unorthodox.

It was a bit derogatory, just like the people in the crowd speaking about the apostles “they’re filled on new wine.” “She’s teeched in the head.” Dismissive. Those people don’t matter. They’re insane. They need counselors and medication and maybe an asylum.

I carried that negative attitude about mental health and abilities with me out of my home village.

And when I became depressed, I refused to get help. I’m not teeched. I don’t need medication or counseloring. What good does it do anyway? It’s just talking. I can talk. Besides, nothing is wrong with me anyways.

I poured myself into my job. And my classes. The harder I worked the less time I had to think about my own worries and sadness and anger.

The more anxious I got, the more it felt like I was choking when I went to eat. So I stopped eating.

Soon I was working full time, going to school full time, getting straight A’s, and losing weight and looking great. What could be wrong?

The thing about depression is it shows up in many different ways. Sometimes, it is sadness and sleepiness and weight gain. Other times, it is hyper activity and sleeplessness and weight loss.

I kept saying I was fine.

My employer knew better. A faithful Christian, and motherly, she took me aside and told me she knew how much was going on in my life, and she’d witnessed me working more and more hours, eating less and less, and my grades doing great… “And I think you need someone to talk to.”

NO! No! I’m not teeched! I’m perfectly normal and orthodox and ignore me!

So she rephrased it, “Until you talk with someone, I don’t want you working because you’re using it to avoid thinking about your troubles.”

So I went to go talk with someone. And sure enough – she said I was depressed; and needed medication, and meeting and talking. I was angry. I was … ashamed.

Ashamed. Embarrassed.

There’s such a stigma around mental health! Whether we are born with mental health concerns, like those we took an offering for at Hope Homes today, or whether we acquire them over time, like I had, either way… our society dismisses and disapproves of psychologists, counselors, and anyone who has mental health concerns.

If someone takes a “mental health day” we consider them weak.

If someone needs counseloring or medication, we consider them unfit for some jobs, and to own some items.

The stigma has us trying to hide such people away from society… and when there is no money to do so, we kick them onto the streets for short, hard lives.

Most homeless people have mental health concerns. And, poor, unable to get the medication to help them, they self medicate with street drugs and alcohol.

But it’s not just homeless people.

It’s also farmers.

Out of all professions, farmers have the highest suicide rates. We work long hours. Often lonely. And the margin between profit and loss is so slim… that every little movement made in Washington DC, every rain storm and frost and sunny day, every deportation and disruption of migrant workers’ lives, changes if it is a win year or a lose year. A 12 year low for crops is predicted for this year due to international sanctions and bans; the crazy weather; and changes in the Farm Bill. One of these changes is revising or removing crop insurance.

And farmers are killing themselves. Dairy farmers. Crop farmers. Small time farms that struggle against factory business farms are getting so deeply in debt that death looks like the only way out.

And in rural areas, there are few social workers, few counselors, few psychologists, and a great stigma against being ‘teeched in the head.’

… I know. I didn’t want help. I would have rather worked myself to death… and if a certain day the pressure was just too much… just find a way to relieve it. And end my life.

Religion was the bastion, the home, of original mental health help before there were counselors or psychologists. And many counselors and psychologists are deeply spiritual, but keep it from their practicing life unless the client invites such to not offend the person visiting them.

And almost every pastor sees a counselor or psychologist.

Our physical health is important. If we break an arm, we go and get it set.

If we are spiritually hurting, we reach out to a pastor or fellow Christian and ask for prayer.

Why do we deny ourselves mental help for when our minds, our emotions, need assistance?

Just stigma. Just not wanting to be seen as drunk on new wine or teeched in the head.

Well, it’s a bit too late. Just as your body and your soul needs tending, so does your mind. And we’ve all got the Holy Spirit within us. We’re all teeched. All Touched by God.

We’re all already the drunk ones, already the ones the world thinks are not normal, already dancing to the beat of a different drum.

Whether we call that mantis, and prophesy, or mania, and senselessness, is a matter of perspective.

A matter of whether we will embrace our mental abilities, and care for our mental health… or whether we will ignore it, deride those who seek help, and separate ourselves further into isolation.

This is a stigma the world places on us. Not the Bible. In the Bible, it is a very good thing to be touched by God and teeched in the head.

Amen.