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.

Random Reflection on Love

There is a fierce independence amongst some Christians,

Yet God calls us to be the Body of Christ,

Intertwined,

Each with different functions,

All serving together toward one common goal:

Love,

For God IS love.

 

Love does not haphazardly

Discard differences or

Throw away challenges.

 

Love does not discriminate

By color or age or gender or status.

 

Love does not make swooping changes

Without considering long-term affects.

 

Love does not boast about its accomplishments.

 

Love does not gloat in hurting others.

 

Love is not red.

Or blue.

Or black.

Or white.

 

Love is not inciting battles that turn to wars.

 

Love is not money.

 

Love is not greed.

 

Love is not a business.

 

Love is people,

Real people,

With real needs,

And hurts,

And feelings,

Trying to make it in this world,

And, in America,

Trying to live into the creed

That all humankind is created equal.

Love is a choice.

And an action.

And an outpouring of a heart grounded in

Love that comes from God,

For God IS love,

And anything less than love

Does not come from God.

 

It is that complicatedly simple.

Gracious

I was recently talking to an old Christian camp friend about the

Hot button issues of

Immigration

The LGBTQ+ Community

Pro-life vs. Pro-choice policies

Racism

And

Sexism.

Fun, huh?

 

She made a comment that brought tears to my eyes.

She said:

These are the things my husband and I talk about.

We wonder aloud at how 160+ years ago,

The church was on the wrong side of slavery and

Ask ourselves if given a comparable space and distance,

We might discover that we’re on the wrong side of things now.

We finally settle on this thought:

When we get to heaven,

We would rather hear God say,

“You thought me more gracious than I am.”

Than

“You thought me more harsh than I am.”

 

I don’t know about you,

But in serving a God who deems himself “love,”

And throughout scripture welcomes the outcast

And loves the unloveable,

I would much rather be more gracious than I ought

Than be more harsh than I should.

 

The gospel of Jesus Christ is one of life-giving freedom.

We are saved from fear and damnation, and

Are given a glimpse of eternal life…

May we live as though we’ve been set free to love.

May we live as though God so loved the world.

 

Amen.

Grocery Store Stickers

I received a surprise piece of mail yesterday.

A couple of weeks ago, I was the caller for my school’s virtual Battle of the Books. The local newspaper wrote an article about the event, so I was in the newspaper.

I hadn’t seen the article. In fact, I’d forgotten that it existed.

Then mail arrived in my mail box.

It was a very nice handwritten note, along with the article from the paper…sealed with stickers from the grocery store! 😊

The whole thing made me smile…

And it made me wonder: When is the last time I went out of my way to send someone, literally or figuratively, a smile?

As I looked at the letter, I could imagine my friend ever so carefully removing her produce stickers so that they could be used on my letter. The intention of her action made me feel cared for and also gave homage to my friend’s sense of humor…

May we be a people who do not waste produce stickers—who reuse them in ways that make people smile.

May we send cards, write letters, compose positive comments, make phone calls, wear fun masks, offer eye smiles under our masks, visit when it’s safe, and act upon our positive thoughts of others in any other ways we can think.

May we be a people of love, especially in these days when love, respect, and belonging are so needed and overdue.

May love be our light and our guide. Always. Amen.

Bestowing Grace On The World

In preparation for a sermon that I delivered on Romans 12 yesterday, I reread a paper that I wrote in divinity school over a decade ago. One of my favorite parts of the paper is as follows (slightly edited):

In the English language, the word “gift” is defined as “a natural talent” or “something easy to do.” In Greek, the word for gift, “charism,” is defined as a “divine gratuity.” “Charism” denotes any word or action that brings concrete expression of God’s gracious outreach to humankind. In other words, a charism, or gift, is any word or action that serves as a means of grace. Spiritual gifts, then, aren’t just natural talents or things that we’re good at, rather they are words and actions given to believers to bring grace to expression in this world.

I love this.

I love knowing that all who are believers are gifted, through God’s spirit, to bestow grace upon this world.

Does it mean that we are all musicians?
Does it mean that we are all great public speakers?
Does it mean that we are all gifted craftspeople?
Does it mean that we are all capable of roofing?
Does it mean that we are all super intelligent?
Does it mean that we are all excellent athletes?
Does it mean that we are all super talented in ways valued by this world?

No!

It means that we all have a way through which we bestow grace upon the world.

Prophesy.
Serve.
Teach.
Encourage.
Give.
Lead.
Show mercy.
Generously.
Wisely.
Cheerfully.
Diligently.
FOR GRACE.

So sing those songs.
Bake those cookies.
Clean that building.
Work with those children.
Replace that sheetrock.
Construct that Etsy craft.
Make those speeches.
Plan those events.
Build that fire.
Coach that team.
Take charge of that meeting.
Pray those prayers. Out loud and silent.
Do what you do best,
What you enjoy doing most,
But filter it through the gift(s) that you have been given to bestow grace upon this world.
Amen?
And Amen.

It Takes Everyone

Confession: I am a Battle of the Books dropout.

For those who may not know, Battle of the Books is a trivia-like competition for students who enjoy reading. The NC School Library Media Association publishes a list of books to be read and studied each year. Various persons then write fact-recall questions about the books and different schools select teams of students to compete again other teams in answering said questions. Teams have no idea what the questions will be until they hear them at the competition.

I started reading this year’s Battle of the Books books at the end of last year. I read a handful of the books and had every intention of completing the entire list…but…I didn’t. I somehow managed to run into a brick wall of anti-reading, and I’ve yet to overcome the wall.

Not reading all of the books = disqualified from the Battle of the Books team = Deanna disqualifying herself as a coach. I, Deanna Deaton, am a Battle of the Books dropout.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t help with this year’s competition.

It sounds small, I know, and it really is small in comparison to the hours of practice that the team and coaches put into this year’s competition, but I provided the plants for stage decorations and the microphones for the sound system at this year’s countywide competition.

The coaches were hoping to rent some stage decorations, but the rental fell through. I always buy my mom plants for Mother’s Day, so I decided to buy the plants early this year and loan them to Battle of the Books. [Happy Mother’s Day, mom :-D!]

I used to sing in a band. At the height of our career, we bought our own microphones. I have six microphones that now sit in a closet at home. We have no decent microphones at school. I was asked to set up the sound system, so I decided to bring my microphones from home so that the sound would be consistent between teams. I figured that the microphones are much more useful at school for two days than they are in the closet at home.

Like I said, I know that these two things are really small in the scheme of the entire event. Yet they needed to happen. And I could fill the needs. So why not step up and play my part?

The truth is, friends, everything is a sum of its parts. None of us stands completely alone. Ever. Sometimes, our role in an event or happening is as big as coordinating or coaching. Other times it’s as small as providing plants and microphones. Regardless, we each have our roles to play—gifts and talents to offer—things that we can do to help those around us—support that we can give—solutions that we can offer if we will but take a few minutes to see what they are. And I don’t know why, but this truth is especially good news to me today.

I may be a Battle of the Books dropout, but I’m also a Battle of the Books supporter. I did what I could to lead to today’s victory for our school. That’s right—my team won! And I couldn’t be prouder to have been a part of it all.

“ For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully. Love must be sincere.” Romans 12:3-9

Cut From The Same Cloth, Yet...

Cut from the same cloth
Woven from threads of love, hope
Yet each one unique

You. Your neighbors. Your family and friends. Those you have yet to meet.
We are all cut from the same fabric of humanity.
Skin and bone, flesh and blood.
Fear and worry, hope and possibility.

So this Christmas, as you pause to reflect upon the story of Jesus joining the ranks of humanity, remember that you are part of something bigger and know that your life and work matter.

You are both cut from and in the process of helping weave the fabric of humanity.

May you feel the strands of Love that are woven into you and
May you weave strands of hope, joy, and peace into the lives around you,
Each one the same, yet each one unique.

Officially

If you are an introvert who does not like physical touch, then I don’t suggest a big ordination service. If, however, you are an extravert who craves physical touch, then go for it…because the touches you receive and the words that you hear will propel you through the exhaustion that ensues after months of waiting.

I’ve had a lot of people call me Rev. this week. I’ve smiled.
I’ve had a lot of people ask me if I’m still floating from Sunday night. I am.
I’ve had people tell me that I was glowing at Sunday night’s service. I was.
I’ve had people joke that I suddenly have healing powers. I don’t. Yet parts of me have been healed…or least taken steps closer to redemption.

It’s hard to describe. These thoughts and feelings that I have.
Nothing extrinsic has changed.
I’ve still gone to work at school each day this week and done my best to be patient and loving with my coworkers and students. I’ve succeeded. I’ve failed. I’ve landed in between.
I’ve still gone to church a couple of times this week and done my best to be encouraging and spirit-led with my coworkers, choir, and congregation. I’ve succeeded. I’ve failed. I’ve landed in between.
I did those things last week, too.
Yet I feel different this week.
I think it’s partly because my love tank is full to overflowing.
But it’s more than that. It’s just hard to explain...

I don’t know how long the line was for people to pray for me. And I don’t know how many people the line held. But I know that I saw a lot of faces and felt a lot of hands and I know that I heard a lot of words that came from people’s hearts.

One sentence really sticks out to me, though, and it’s from one of my dearest friends from high school. “This is what you’ve been doing all along,” she said. “Now it’s just official.”

I guess maybe that’s it.
It’s official.
Called out and affirmed by hundreds of people.
Publically declared that my greatest desire in life is to love and show God’s grace to the world around me—
Wholeheartedly, in great and small tasks, through music and words, by simply showing up…

People have shown up for me. They showed up Sunday night.
And those who couldn’t show up Sunday night were still there with me.
My dad’s parents were with me in the necklace that I wore around my neck.
My mom’s parents were with me in the ring that I wore on my finger.
Kay was with me in the angel plaque that lay on the altar in the sanctuary.

People have shown up for me.
So I want to show up for people.
Officially.
Wholeheartedly.
With everything that I am.
Extraverted, craving of words of affirmation, needing hugs and all.

Should Be, Could Be, and Is

I confess. I posted on Facebook during church yesterday. But in my defense, I was listening to the sermon for the second time and I had been pondering what I wanted to post for a couple of hours. I surprised myself when I posted, though, because what I ended up saying wasn’t what I had originally planned.

What I posted was this: “…There could be no us against them—no we versus they. There could just be us. There could just be people…”

My initial statement was this: “There should be no us against them—no we versus they. There should just be us. There should just be people.”

The difference lies in just one word; yet the difference is huge.
One of my favorite passages of scripture says: “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” (Galatians 3:26-28)
Another of my favorite passages says: “For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us.” (Romans 12:4-6a)

In short: We are one in Christ, yet we are diverse. We are one in Christ, yet we are different. We are one in Christ, yet we are not robots. We are one in Christ, for what we stand for and live for is the same: redeeming, amazing, life-transforming Love.

Most of us know this. Most of us know that we should live as one. Most of us know that we should live in openness and affirmation rather than secrecy and condemnation. Most of us know that we should build up rather than tear down. Most of us know that we should being willing to sacrifice our own desires for greater good if sacrifice is what is needed.

We should. We should. We should.

But we don’t.

Yet we could.

We could.

It would take hard work and perseverance. It would take self-examination. It would take tongue-biting. It would take humility and willingness to change. It would take prayer. And time. And space. And it wouldn’t be easy. But it is possible. And we could do it.
So yes.

“…There could be no us against them—no we versus they. There could just be us. There could just be people…”

Forget should. We know we should.

We could. Really really, really could.

So let’s make it happen.

Let’s make it: “There is no us against them—no we versus they. There is just us. There are just people…”

Images from Camp

Four teenagers walking down the road carrying buckets to gather water. The house we were working on had no running water. We were working in a neighborhood that is falling into disrepair as residents are getting older and the town is channeling money elsewhere.

An 82-year-old woman sweeping grass off of her sidewalk, allowing me to finish sweeping for her as she told me how grateful she was for our presence across the street. Talking with her inspired a sidewalk cleaning project that rallied our work crew and gave them a sense of purpose and accomplishment. The grass in front of the house at which we were working had completely covered the sidewalk. In fact, the soil had built up to the point that it was over a foot deep in front of the steps. When we left, the sidewalk was clean and plans had been made for the yard-keeper at the abandoned house two houses over was making plans to clear the sidewalk in front of that house as well.

A group of white teenagers gathering around a middle-aged African American woman, praying with and for her in an effort to release her from the hoarding tendencies that had almost gotten her house condemned and receiving a blessing from her because of the positive path they were choosing. This prayer occurred on Friday, just before we packed up and moved out, and it blessed everyone involved, including our homeowner’s husband who caught my eye and gave me a grateful thumbs-up and nod of affirmation.

The “body of Christ” being shared with each participant by a beautifully humble staff member who radiated peace and joy through her smile and intentional eye contact. Most persons didn’t look at her as she said, “The body of Christ broken for you,” yet she still saw each person and served them the “bread of life.” I imagined her saying a prayer for each person as he/she approached, and I realized that what was happening in front of me was a depiction of what often happens in ministry: we serve yet we are often not seen and sometimes we are even ignored; yet still, we serve, praying that love of Christ will shine through us. The whole experience moved me to tears.

Jesus. 12-years-old. At the temple. Fully alive. Fully himself. Finding his call. Going home. Growing up. Jesus went home to grow up.

Seeing the words “everyone’s welcome here, no one has to hide” projected onto the screen. Hearing the words being sung. Feeling tears streaming down my face as I realized that the words we were singing were words I want to believe but words that haven’t always been shown to me. Everyone is welcome at God’s table. Now it’s up to us, the church, to show it.

The Olympics, A Right Butt Muscle, and a Left Armpit

I had the privilege of leading my final 2012 camp staff Bible study last night. After a review of everything we’d talk about over the summer (love languages, personality type, Genesis 1, God as Creator, Psalm 139, God as big enough to handle raw honesty), we dove into a study of Romans 12 and what it means to live our lives—our uniquely created and gifted lives—as sacrifices of praise who pour love into this world. I’d led studies on Romans 12 before, but last night’s study hit me in a new way—a deeper way—thanks to the Olympics, right butt muscle, and left armpit.

For the past few weeks, my left armpit and part of my shoulder have been going numb when I sit on a certain part of my right butt muscle (gluteus maximus for those who want to use the technical term). I hadn’t understood this odd connection until I did some research and learned that when I sit on a certain muscle on my right (that happens to be the one that I sit on when I drive and sit at my desk), it affects a muscle in my left back, that affects a nerve on my spine, that causes my armpit to go numb. Really? Our bodies are that intricately connected? (Yes. I know that our bodies are intricately connected, but for some reason this particular connection has fascinated me.)

When we speak of the body of Christ, we tend parallel parts such as hands, feet, mouth, heart, and brain. But what about the pleasure organs, the waste removal organs, the belly button, the scalines, the white blood cells, the right butt muscle, and the left armpit? They are parts of the body, too, and, as I’ve learned recently, they are important to a body’s proper functioning, albeit some are more important than others at different points in life.

We need all parts to make the whole.

All parts.

And we need all parts to be most fully themselves, most healthily themselves, which means acting as themselves instead of trying to function as something else, in order to function at our best.

Like many of you, I watched parts of the Olympics over the weekend. I watched the opening ceremony in awe, and I flat out cried as the Olympic flame was lit. To see the torch carried by seven teenagers—by seven of the finest of our future—and to see them embraced by their mentors—by the older persons who had believed and continue to believe in them—and to watch them light individual petals that had been carried into the arena by each country participating in the Olympics—and to watch those petals seamlessly connect with other petals and ignite flames from around the world—and to watch those petals rise up to form one united flame…well…it was absolutely amazing.

I also watched Goksu Uctas, the first Turkish gymnast ever to compete in the Olympics, perform a perfect balance beam routine. Before Goksu, no one from Turkey had considered it possible to compete in Olympic gymnastics. Because she considered it, though—because gymnastics gave her hope and purpose after her life was destroyed by an earthquake—because she trained against all odds, sometimes even practicing outside—she made it to the Olympics. Even though her routine wasn’t complicated enough to compete with the powerhouse individual scores, she did her very best with what she had been given, and she made her family, her coaches, her country, and this American very proud.

Unity in diversity. Doing your best with what you have. Believing in those who have gone before and will come behind you. Understanding your life as connected with other lives and owning the fact that what you do—good or bad—affects the larger whole. Accepting the call to consciously live your life in such a way that you are a living example of sacrificial love…

Those are the things that struck me last night during our Romans 12 study…all because of the Olympics, right butt muscle, and left arm-pit.

What truths are striking you today?