Sarah

 

I don’t remember her name. 

I think it was Sarah, but I can’t be sure. 

But she made an impact on my life over 20 years ago,

And I will forever be grateful. 

 

I met her at an Episcopal retreat weekend. 

I had signed up for the retreat because I was a big fan of the worship leader.

When I got to the retreat center, though,

I learned that the worship leader wasn’t going to be there. 

The person we will call Sarah was in charge of the weekend.

She gave me the choice to stay or to have my money refunded. 

I chose to stay. 

Why not?

After all, I was already there. 

 

If I were pressed to tell you what the focus of that retreat was, 

Then I wouldn’t be able to do it. 

All I remember is that we shared communion on Saturday night, 

Passed the common cup, 

And drank real wine. 

It was the first time I’d ever had real wine with communion. 

It was disgusting! 

All the Episcopalians laughed with me at my face when I tasted it. 

They also all laughed when I was surprised that they were having beer and wine during their fellowship time. 

Alcohol on a retreat was unheard of for me, 

The lone Baptist. 

 

I don’t know if she felt sorry for me or what, 

But Sarah went out of her way to befriend me that weekend

And to make sure I was as comfortable as possible in unfamiliar territory. 

After the weekend ended,

Sarah and I kept in touch via email, 

Which I suppose is how she told me about Glory Ridge. 

 

Glory Ridge is a retreat center outside Marshall, NC, 

That hosts youth groups during the summer 

And sends them into surrounding areas to do construction work. 

There is a small camp staff each summer 

And they happened to need one more person in 2004.

Did I have any construction experience? 

No. 

Was I at all prepared to sleep on the dirty floor of a little shed with no running water, barely any electricity, and mice?

No. 

But did it matter?

No. 

Sarah believed in me and my gifts,

So I went to serve on staff at Glory Ridge anyway. 

And I had a wonderful summer.

 

That summer,

I learned that a shower is a privilege rather than a necessity. 

I was introduced to the concept of being present and living fully in the moment. 

I became a fan of wind chimes.

And I began an ecumenical journey that would eventually lead me outside the narrow confines of religion

And into the open arms of faith.

 

And it’s all because of a person whose name I don’t even remember,

But whose presence of kindness, generosity, and openness changed my life.

 

May we be a people whose names may not be remembered

But whose legacies are passed down from person to person,

Generation to generation.

 

May we be a people who open doors of faith.

 

Amen.

Voiceless Coughing

 

It only took one Friday night cough for me to know that

I wasn’t going to have full voice on Sunday morning.

One cough told me that a cold was coming to sit in my chest and take my voice away.

One cough dashed weeks of hopeful planning for singing a powerful duet.

One cough set into motion numerous measures to keep my voice from leaving,

But to not avail.

I woke up yesterday morning unable to sing.

Truth be told,

I could barely talk.

 

To say that I was aggravated is an understatement.

I had been at home all week,

Not around known germs,

Resting,

And I still got sick.

Again.

 

And I got sick on a weekend I was scheduled to preach and sing.

The entire sermon was inspired by a song,

Yet suddenly my voice was stripped away and I was left singingly mute.

I muddled my way through the sermon with fear and trepidation.

The last time I preached, I was afraid of a nosebleed.

This time, I was afraid of a cough.

Last time, the nosebleed waited.

This time, the cough did not.

I coughed quite a few times,

My nose ran,

Tears rolled down my face from watery eyes,

And I was left standing there trying to deliver the message that was burning in my heart

But that I couldn’t get out of my mouth with voice inflection or style

Because I was on the verge of coughing with every word.

 

Thankfully, my friend Jes stepped in and sang a beautiful solo.

As she sang:

“You can pour your soul out singing,

A song you believe in,

That tomorrow they’ll forget you ever sang,

Sing it anyway,”

I fought back tears,

Thinking,
“You can pour your heart out speaking

A sermon you believe in,

But the message will get lost in

Every cough,

Preach it anyway.”

 

Preach it anyway, with whatever voice you have.

Sing it anyway, even if the singing is in your head.

Show up anyway, fully aggravated or completely pleasant.

Love anyway, because you must.

Even when it seems your best is not good enough.

God still is…

Anyway.

 

Amen.

 

---

 

An excerpt from my sermon:

 

But, Deanna, we aren’t Jesus. 

And it’s hard to love

When someone speaks ill of us or someone we love,

When someone mocks all that we hold dear, 

When someone gives us the cold shoulder and refuses to work alongside us, 

When someone is flat out mean and seeks to destroy forward progress,

It’s hard to remember that they, too, are God’s child.

 

Yes. 

 

It is. 

 

But God created all humankind in God’s own image and 

Called humankind, 

At its core,

Good. 

 

And so Jesus challenges:

 

Love your enemies (because they are human.) 

do good to those who hate you (because they are human).

bless those who curse you (because they are human). 

pray for those who mistreat you (because they are human). 

 

You don’t have to like them. 

You don’t have to accept their bad behavior. 

You don’t have to remain silent in the face of injustice  

And you don’t have to endure abuse.

 

But Jesus challenges you to love.

To wish upon all people God’s higher good—

However that wish manifests itself in your life.

 

(pause)

 

Love them anyway. 

Stay the Course

 

One of my favorite games is Phase Ten Dice. 

It’s a cross between Phase Ten and Yahtzee 

And it is a combination of luck and strategy,

Although it could be argued it’s less strategy than luck. 

 

As the name suggests, 

There are ten phases that you must complete in three rolls each. 

You are rolling for a high score but

If a high score isn’t possible then you at least want to complete the phase.  

If you do not complete the phase, then you must try again and again until the phase is complete.

There is a 40 point bonus for finishing first. 

 

Time and time again, 

When playing Phase Ten Dice,

The person winning in the beginning is not the person who wins in the end. 

They will be sailing along, 

Completing phases, 

Getting high scores, 

And then come to a screeching halt when a phase trips them up. 

For my dad,

It’s seven of one color. 

It gets him every time! 

For me and my mom,

It can be anything.  

 

The point is,

You must stay the course. 

If you’re losing,

You cannot give up hope.

If you’re winning,

You cannot take your fortune for granted.

 

The game can drastically change in just one phase. 

 

You are not completely guaranteed a win or a loss until the game truly ends. 

 

So stay the course, dear friends—

Hunker down and persevere,

Even when hope is hard to come by. 

You never know when strategy and luck will converge to propel you forward, 

Out of whatever sadness and defeat you are feeling. 

 

As much as you can,

Enjoy the journey and

Share laughter with those you’re journeying with. 

Winning is nice, yes. 

But it’s the process that matters. 

And the process takes time.

And waiting.

And cheering one another on. 

 

Amen. 

Mimi

Salmon patties. 

That’s what I remember most about Mimi. 

Salmon patties and hummingbirds and talking really loud so she might hear. 

MiMi was Angela My Best Friend From

College’s grandmother. 

She died last Sunday at the age of 98. 

We celebrated her life on Saturday, 

And I walked away from the celebration with one burning question:

What can people learn about me from excavating my Bible? 

 

Mimi was a woman of faith.

Her theology was progressive and she supported women as pastors in Baptist life before it was a thing. 

She studied theology and read biblical commentaries simply because she wanted to.

She started an intergenerational Bible study at her church that outgrew all Sunday School rooms and had to meet in the sanctuary. 

Mimi was a student of the Bible and she evidently left clues in her Bible as to what made her tick. 

 

She underlined.

She wrote quotes. 

She stored poems. 

She shared wisdom. 

 

Her Bible was the Word that guided her life. 

 

Is my Bible the same? 

 

I will be honest and admit that I haven’t taken my Bible to church in years. 

My church prints the scripture readings each week so I don’t need it for worship, 

And when I study scripture on my own,

I read electronically on an online Bible platform. 

 

But after Mimi’s funeral, 

I began to wonder:

Am I missing something by not opening my Bible more often?

Am I forfeiting an opportunity to share with future generations what makes me tick?

 

My Bible has plenty of underlined passages from old. 

Might I need to update and underline passages of new—

New ways the Holy Spirit is helping me see and understand and live and be in this world?

Might I need to add new pictures and new little slips of paper with new quotes and new poems as bookmarks and reminders of people and places and events through whom God has spoken?

 

I think so.

 

Because if the Bible is the living word of God,

Then my Bible should show that much, 

Rather than serving as a time capsule from the past. 

 

Because if the Bible is the living word of God,

Then my Bible needs to be opened and read

Rather than just sitting on a shelf

Or riding around in the car. 

 

Because doing so would make Mimi proud. 

 

Because doing so is a privilege that I don’t want to take for granted

Any longer. 

 

May we each, like Mimi, 

Let God’s word guide us 

To be people of faith who

Do justice, 

Love Mercy,

and walk humbly with our God. 

 

Amen. 

Common Courtesy

 

Months ago, 

I was getting gas at the corner gas station 

When two guys drove up and asked the store worker 

If they could throw a large box into the store‘s dumpster. 

It was evidently a heavy box because it took both guys to throw it in the bin,

But they simply threw it away and left,

All while I was pumping my gas. 

 

I have no idea why I remember this moment so vividly. 

Yet every day when I drive by the gas station,

I think about it. 

 

I’ve never once questioned what was in the box, 

Although that might be an interesting brainstorm. 

I think I just thought it nice that they asked

Before throwing their trash into the dumpster.

I imagine that a lot of people have trash to throw away

That won’t fit into the garbage bins that trash pick-up companies use.

And I imagine that most people don’t have memberships at the dump.

So I imagine that a lot of people use commercial dumpsters unauthorized.

Yet, these guys thought to ask.

A common courtesy, I suppose. 

And I guess maybe why their actions stuck out to me so much. 

 

As a society, 

It seems that we’re moving away from common courtesy 

And into rugged individualism. 

We seem more and more concerned about ourselves and our own needs and rights 

Than the needs of those around us. 

 

It’s wearing headphones or turning the volume down when you’re in a waiting room and watching your phone.

It’s holding the door for someone behind you.

It’s asking someone their opinion rather than dominating the conversation.

It’s letting the person behind you go ahead of you in line if they only have one or two things and you have a full cart.

It’s not leaning your chair back completely when you’re on a plane.

 

It’s not posting your first response of anger or engaging in malicious arguments on social media.

It’s refusing to spread a rumor or deciding to set facts straight when misinformation is being shared. 

It’s realizing that you have room to grow and that there is always another side to the story.

It’s simple things that don’t necessarily cost money. 

It’s common humanity that doesn’t sacrifice the core values of love and respect. 

 

May we be people of common courtesy and respect

Who remember our common humanity 

And our call to be good stewards of the earth and of one another. 

 

Amen. 

Confession and Forgiveness

 

Each Sunday at church,

We begin our service with confession and forgiveness.

 

We pray something like:

 

Merciful God,

you speak blessing and compassion into the world.

Forgive us for the ways we act with judgment, cruelty, or indifference.

We ignore the needs of our neighbors;

we resist your call to oppose injustice;

we give in to scarcity and fear;

we assume the worst about one another.

Cleanse us from our faults and release us from their grasp.

Show us your loving-kindness.

Restore our hearts and repair your world, that we may live in Christ’s ways.

Amen.

 

And then hear words of forgiveness

That usher us into song.

 

Yesterday,

As we collectively read our prayer of forgiveness,

It struck me just how powerful it would be if

All proclaiming Christians, everywhere,

Read aloud those words together;

 

If all proclaiming Christians, everywhere,

No matter how pious and well-meaning,

Embraced the fact that we DO

Ignore the needs of those around us,

Resist doing what’s hard,

Give into scarcity and fear,

And assume the worst about the other;

 

If all proclaiming Christians, everywhere

Focused on the heart of Christ which was

Taking care of those around us,

(Not just our families and friends),

Fighting for what is right for all people,

(Not just those who look and think like us),

Living with the idea that there is an abundance when it is shared with all,

(Not just hoarded for ourselves or a minority of people),

And seeing the possibility of good in all people,

For all were created in the image of God and are doing our best to survive.

 

If all proclaiming Christians, everywhere

Focused back on the heart of the Gospel—

That Jesus came to serve rather than to be served,

That Jesus came to usher in the God’s Kingdom which is one of Love,

And that Jesus came to show us,

Once and for all,

That death and darkness and sin do not triumph,

Rather life and light and forgiveness emerge victorious in the end.

 

Reading those words each week

And embracing forgiveness

Is an act of humility and surrender

To something so much bigger than myself.

 

What IF all proclaiming Christians, everywhere

Were to demonstrate those same acts of humility and surrender

And allow God’s spirit to transform even the vilest of hearts?

 

What IF all proclaiming Christians, everywhere,

Were truly to follow Christ?

 

Amen.