A Lutheran Says What?

Sermons and random thoughts on God, the world and the intersection of the two

Hosanna! God Save Us Now! March For Our Lives #enough March 26, 2018

*I was unable to go to the March For Our Lives, and I didn’t preach on Palm Sunday. But this has been rattling around in my brain all weekend and what I would have preached. Mark 11: 1-11
“Hosanna! God save us now!” Can you hear it? Can you hear the crowds chanting this mantra over and over to anyone who will listen? When Jesus and his followers entered Jerusalem the crowds were chanting these words, “Hosanna,” which translates to “God save us now”. To our modern ears these words seem pious, docile and quaint, but listen carefully, these words are anything but. These words are charged with emotion, charged with hope and charged with political drama. This was a not an impromptu holiday parade that the people had created, no, it was a political demonstration. It was the rallying of people who were tired of not being heard, tired of not having a voice, tired of being dismissed, and mostly just tired. This rally was an effort to bring real change. The messiah is coming!
The messiah coming means nothing will be the same. Now, the people who were in this rally 2,000 years ago were just as confused as we are today about what the coming of the Messiah means for us and the world. In Jesus’ time, the coming of the Messiah meant a military overthrow of the empire and the government who had been oppressing not just the Jewish people, but anyone who didn’t fit into the cultural norms. The Messiah would basically “kick ass and take names,” and the people who were rallying around Jesus on this day shouting “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” were not looking for a prayer meeting but a coup d’état. They wanted life to be different, safer, more equable, and more just and by any means necessary.
Today we think of the coming of the Messiah in the culturally popular end times concepts such as from the Left Behind series or a literal reading of the book of Revelation (FYI Revelation is not meant to be read literally). We think that Jesus will return in clouds and thunder and earthquakes and catastrophes and tornadoes and cows tipping over and pigs flying. Oh the drama and the number of people who will wish that they “had been right with Jesus”!
Turns out, the people 2,000 years ago were disappointed and we will be as well. Jesus is indeed the Messiah who arrived in Jerusalem but not with military might, but with peace. The protesters who shouted “Hosanna!” were correct to do so, for God was indeed saving them, but not how they anticipated. God was saving them through Jesus who would indeed overturn the powerful and the entitled and the rich but not with violence or swords, but a death on a cross. Turning violence into peace, hate into love and intolerance into inclusion. “Hosanna!” Can you hear it? Will we listen?
Can we hear it? Will we listen to the shouts of “Hosanna” in our world today? On Saturday hundreds of thousands of people, led by youth, marched, shouting “Save us now!” They are tired, they are tired of being afraid, tired of being ignored, tired of money speaking louder than people, tired of death. If we’re honest we all are and we shout to God “Hosanna in the highest heaven! God save us now!” The massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, FL was a catalyst, one step too far over the line of acceptable, the veritable straw that broke the camel’s back. These young people are begging us to show them the Messiah, to reveal Jesus at work in our world. Not just to end school shootings, but to end innocent people who happen to be of color from being shot 20 times in their own backyard as Stephon Clark was brutally killed. To speak up and shout “Hosanna! Save us now!” from systemic racism that fuels such incidents as well as our school to prison pipeline, poverty, profiling, white supremacy, unjust incarceration of our black and brown brothers and sisters. To speak up and shout “Hosanna! Save us now!” from patriarchal systems of gender and sexuality oppression where women and LBGTQIA people are not heard, are harassed, targeted, viewed as less than and objectified. To speak up and shout “Hosanna! Save us now!” to the systemic myths of ableism and see all people with all abilities as valuable and gifted. To speak up and shout “Hosanna! Save us now!” from whatever keeps us from truly listening to one another-conversation face to face for the sake of seeing each other as beloved children of God-each one of us created in God’s own image.
Jesus comes into our lives, our world, hears our shouts of “Hosanna! Save us now!” and offers us himself. All of himself freely, unconditionally, lovingly and mercifully. Jesus hears us, and through the cross, draws all us close so that we can hear each other too. When we hear one another all shouting “Hosanna! Save us now!” we realize that Jesus calls us to be this same selfless love to each other. The promises of God to be with us always is not for us individually, but for all of us collectively. Jesus is here, in the protests of our youth, in the protests of our black and brown brothers and sisters, in the protests of women and LBGTQIA people, in the protests of people created with unique gifts to share-Jesus is here. Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem and in our hearts is indeed triumphant, not because of bringing military and worldly power, authority and privilege, but is triumphant because Jesus’ arrival in our hearts and in our lives brings mercy, tenderness, openness, forgiveness, selflessness and true love of neighbor more than ourselves. When Jesus’ arrives all is overthrown, our own ego, pride, resistance, prejudice, bias and hate. Are we listening? Can we hear it? “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven! Hosanna! God save us now!”

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Intersectionality and the Reality of Hope April 16, 2016

Swirling around us on Facebook, television, and all other media seems to be the conversation on intersectionality. Yes, this word will be underlined in red by Microsoft Word, but trust me, it’s a real thing. It’s a word that delves us deep into complexity, brokenness and uncertainty and yet, I believe is also the source of our healing amidst great divisiveness. Intersectionality names all of the places where pain can be inflicted, where we must confront our own biases, privileges and where truth can be named. I’ve been personally drawn into this sacred space in the past couple of years as I wrestle with white privilege, gender bias, and all of the “isms” in which I live and I am deeply complicit. To name my own privilege: I am white, upper middle class, well-educated, heterosexual, married woman, who happens to also be ordained clergy in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. This gives me great privilege and a voice in our culture in ways that I know some of my brothers and sisters of color do not share. I am compelled as a follower of Jesus to name my brokenness, my division from others and yet risk my voice and privilege for the sake of those without.

While my “whiteness” affords me great privilege, my gender (especially in my vocation) often, in subtle and not so subtle ways, can be where I experience the brokenness of humanity. I have my fair share of stories of seemingly benign comments and “joking” remarks by male colleagues, people in the pews and in the community at large, that I won’t bore you with, but trust me when I say that misogyny is alive and well in as well as outside of the Church. It may not be overt as in catcalls or outright, blatant denial of my “right” to be seen as equal, or as “good as the men” but it’s much more subtle, nuanced and  so much more difficult to call out without be “a bitch” or “one of those feminists.” (By the by, a feminist is someone who believes that men and women are truly equal and deserve actual parity in every sphere of everyday life. Feminism is good for men as well!)

But I want to turn back to intersectionality for the rest of this post. I see white males writing posts about the “Black Lives Matter” movement and adding their voice to the conversation. This is a very important dialog in all of our communities and is, in my opinion, one of life and death for our brothers and sisters of color, as well as the whole of society. (We are inextricably bound to one another as the body of Christ and when one part of the body is not honored and treated with respect, we are all damaged.) White males lending their privilege and voice to the “Black Lives Matter” movement is crucial and one that I applaud. But here is what I wonder: why do these same men not affirm that their male (and often heterosexual) privilege is also an issue alongside their white privilege? I’ve had many a conversation with white males who say things such as “I can only deal with one thing at a time, and I’m going to deal with my whiteness first.” That statement alone is so steeped in entitlement and privilege that it makes my head spin. White men can and do wake up every morning and decide which aspect of their privilege that they will deal with today. Is it being white? Is it being male? Is it having every privilege known in the free world? Why not all three? Oh, because that’s hard, complex, overwhelming  and may require giving away too much of themselves. So, they can compartmentalize their privilege and go about their day. (I want to add that white women are also writing and contributing to the “Black Lives Matter” conversation but they often do not separate it from gender bias. But yes, some do.)

What about the black woman who also is gay? A Latina woman? Or an Indigenous woman? Or a transgender woman? She does not get to wake up and say, “Today, I will only worry about being oppressed as a black person.” Or, “Today I will only have to worry about being female in all my interactions.” Or, “Today I will only have to deal with being gay.” NO. She is all of those things each and every day and cannot choose how society will view her or how others will treat her. I can only imagine that it’s overwhelming and exasperating. Intersectionality requires these women to be conscious each and every second of their day all of the ways that they are seen when they walk in a room, speak up at a meeting, or even drive down the street. They do not get to compartmentalize themselves. They bring the whole of who they are into every situation. (Thanks be to God!)

At the church I currently serve, we are in the nascent stages of conversation around radical inclusion. A large part of our wrestling has been around where to begin and the reality of intersectionality.  Do we first enter into this call from Jesus with only one population, dealing with only one area at a time, such as people who are differently abled or white privilege? Is it too much to try and think about the physical and cognitive differently abled, racism, gender bias, LBGTQI biases, socio-economic differences, etc. right from the start of this ministry? Should it even be a separate ministry as it’s actually who we’re called to be as people who follow Jesus Christ who shows no partiality and includes all people, in all times and in all places in God’s love? What if  Jesus’ definition of intersectionality is different from ours?  If so,  what if this is where we find our hope and our voice going forward?

God intersects with humanity in the person of Jesus Christ; coming to humanity, being human, suffering human sorrows and experiencing human death. Jesus intersected with those whom the rest of society threw away, thought of as second or even third class. Jesus didn’t only focus on one marginalized population, but gathered women, gentiles, lepers, tax collectors, the unclean into his mission of redemption, love and complete wholeness. Jesus didn’t compartmentalize God’s redemption to one step at a time but intersected with all of creation with risky leaps and unfettered bounds. The cross is the place where this intersectionality of God takes on its deepest meaning and continues to draw us into intersections with one another. It is only when we are caught in the intersection of relationship in the Trinity and God’s work of redemption in the world that we can truly know radical inclusion, healing, peace and restoration of our divisions, our brokenness and our fear of the other. This relationship with God, requires us to die to our own privilege, our own false sense of security and safety and trust in the promises of God that ALL truly means ALL in God’s wholeness (salvation). It requires us to be in deep relationship with all whom God gathers. When we rest, trust, find our life, breath and purpose in that promise, we don’t worry that lifting up our brothers and sisters (all of who they are as created in the image of God) might diminish who WE are. We expand our idea of “we” and know that we are not “us” without whom we might now label “other.”

This is difficult work, this is risky, potentially life-ending work.It’s the end of our false identities given to us by a fearful world and the beginning of living into our true selves as people of God, wholly created in the image of pure love for sacred relationship with God and one another.  It’s where we are confronted with the reality of God’s vision for wholeness and our own fears and need for control. It’s where we find that there are more options than in/out, included/excluded, me/you, and us/them. It’s where we find the third way in the cross of Christ: hope in radical oneness, gifted with beautiful, messy and  God-created diversity.