Talkin' 'bout JC - A Free Write

Folks, I've been absolutely overwhelmed with work. It's that season of life, as you might expect. I am in the final sprint toward my masters degree. I am wrapping up programming at my job (at an undergraduate college). But, perhaps most importantly to me (right now, anyway)  am working on my Candidacy paperwork for PCUSA. These are the statements of faith and belief that will make or break me (well, for the time being). Articulating why this statement or faith claim is important - or why I fall down on the side that I do is WAY more complicated that one could initially imagine. One of my free-write-anything-you-want-to-get-the-juices-flowing session yielded an amusing, but also insightful look into what I think about good ol' JC. No, not John Calvin, or even Jimmy Carter, but the One and only Jesus Christ! I include it below as a sign of both my thoughts on our Lord, but also as a sign of my (maybe unhinged?) mental state. And the effects our three cups of coffee in less than an hour. Be warned - there is a bit of rough language. It is a free write, after all.

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Jesus is…kinda a big deal. Like seriously. A Big mother fucking deal. No joke, dudes. He’s a big deal because he’s, like, God. Not like, but actually God. The God. The God who spoke the world into being. The God who led the Israelites out of Egypt and parted the Red Sea. The God who called for justice and righteousness through the prophets like Jeremiah, Isaiah and Hosea. This majestic, benevolent, merciful yet justice-oriented God is the same God that is fully present in the human being Jesus Christ. That’s a big deal. A really, really big deal. Why? Well, for one thing, the God of the universe took on flesh – took on the weakness of a newborn babe. The awkwardness of a teenage boy – complete with zits and growth spurts and the like. Took on the vulnerability unto death. That all by itself is pretty damn remarkable. But what is even more remarkable is that this God became incarnate – took on human skin and limitation and finitude – because this God loves us. God moved toward us, in our wayward, unfaithfulness. God abided with us in the most intimate way. God covenanted with us and redeemed us through this incarnation.

How is this love? How is God’s incarnation a loving act? Well, if the whole, creator-of the-universe-in-human-flesh-to-be-closer-to-us doesn’t come across as loving, then maybe the fact that Jesus is the eternal sacrifice to redeem humanity from sin will. Yep, Jesus Christ, that wandering fool from Nazareth who is secretly God incarnate (do you see a pattern – God incarnate), is also the paschal lamb- the redeeming act of grace confirmed upon a sinful humanity across all generation for all time. Jesus didn’t just exist historically (although, that’s part of God’s whole coming to earth as a human being thing – being limited to historical finitude), this act of reconciliation of creation (not just humanity!) to the Godself (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) is an eternal act, existing both in the singular, profound moment in historical time, and also eternally happening.

This is why Jesus is a big deal. Jesus is the example of what true humanity should be – what it looks like to have a “right relationship” with God (one characterized by freeing the oppressed, eating meals with sinners, redeeming the “impure” and generally living in a way that is ABSOLUTELY different than EVERY expression of Christianity around today. Yep, all of us are far, far short of the example Christ gives us). Jesus is a big deal because in him we come to know God, that wholly Other, fully different, majestic and profound God who breathed all creation into being. In Jesus, God accommodates the Godself to our limited understanding. God “condescends” as Uncle Karl (Barth) would say, to humanity. God moves to us. Not, of course, because God has to, or needs to. God is NOT lonely. God does not NEED anything. God is whole. God is complete within the trinity. But God is a God of self-giving love. That that, my friends, means God loves us so fucking much that God become a creature (do you get that, the Creator became a creature), to show/prove/emphasize this unwavering, inexplicable, undeserved love for us. That is why Jesus Christ, God incarnate, Word made flesh, is a great big, fat deal.

Reflection on Ash Wednesday

Last year on Ash Wednesday, I watched as the Body of Christ was fractured. I listened as a one clergy member’s theology took the Holy Bible and turned it into a weapon. Slings and arrows in the words of Joel. “Sound the trumpet” he proclaimed. Alert Christendom ! There are Gays among the clergy! There are Gays among the ordianands! And these homosexuals are not welcomed  - not just in our seminaries, or holy orders, but in the very Church, the universal Body of Christ.

My memory of that early morning Ash Wednesday service is one of an embodied kind of pain. It is the kind of pain that I remember feeling deep within my bones. I looked at the faces of the gathered community and saw the shock, horror and disgust with the so-called “proclamation.” We gathered as an ecumenical group, attempting to bridge not just denominational divides, but political and social divides. We gathered as an ecumenical community to say that evangelicals, “high church” folks, “low-church” folks, main-line, emergent , traditional and modern Christian could celebrate the season of Lent. A visiting Anglican Bishop from Uganda shattered the trust that we as a diverse and often disagreeing community had pieced together over nearly a year of shared worship. He disregarded the history of God who moves toward us in love, who seeks to make the Godself known to all regardless. He ignored the holiness of the season of Lent, using his invitation to preach as a bully pulpit to articulate a political and theological message of hate and exclusion. Never have I felt such collective pain embodied in the these muscles, down cast eyes and utter brokenness as I saw that morning. I couldn’t look the priest who gave me ashes in the eyes. I felt used, violated, victimized. I felt that the Church, the precious Body of Christ, had, too, been violated, blemished, debased with these arrogant and unloving words.

But that was last year, 2011. That was England. This year was different. This year, I watched as a university chapel filled with Christians of all flavors, all socio-economic class and all stages of life. From protestant professors and their wiggling children, to nervous students who hadn’t been to chapel since Christmas, to tired-looking staff members we sat together as four ministers representing different traditions celebrated the beginning of Lent.

Susan Henry-Crow, the Dean of the Chapel at Emory and a United Methodist minister, president over the imposition of Ashes. Father Natal, the campus Catholic Priest, gave the homily. Mother Mandy, an Episcopal Priest and campus chaplain, proclaimed the gospel. And, Rev Saul Burleson, a Cooperative Baptist minister, helped ash the students. Together, across wide traditions, we collected ourselves to celebrate this new liturgical season. I sat next to a Methodist from Denmark, who had only celebrated Ashe Wednesday once before. This holy, whole, peaceful celebration was the exact opposite of the shaming, hurtful, broken ritual that I had participated in the year before. This space was the diverse, yet united Body of Christ. It didn’t seek to make us the same, but to bridge the spaces of difference to celebrate God’s enduring love.

My journey as a Christian, and more so as a seminarian, has been tides of unity and brokenness. I have seen the joy of the Church together. And, I have felt the painful fractures of the Church apart. In the face of division in my denomination, my Presbytery, my community, I pray that this season of Lent is a season of unity and celebration of diversity.

Boundless in 2012

We are often asked to step outside of ourselves for the sake of the Word. God’s love is boundless, and we are asked to push past the artificial boundaries imposed by our culture and community to be an expression of God’s love.  This “Holy Discomfort” is exactly how I started my New Year.

Welcome 2012! The End of the world looms, if you’re Mayan. If you’re not (or at least, not concerned about End Times prophecies a la 1 Thessalonians 5:2), then another year rolls on ahead, full of it’s unique challenges, joys, burdens and blessings. For me personally this is a year when I finish seminary, and creep fearfully into the Big Bad World of Actual Real Life Adults. Not particularly exciting if you ask me. A Ph.D looks more and more appealing the closer to May 15^th (the day after graduation) I get. Let me not get ahead of myself too much. Because New Years Day started off with a band (sort of).

Now I had Epic Death Cold the whole week after Christmas. And even went so far as to stay at home of New Years Eve in my pjs drinking tea and watching an NCIS marathon (I’m a winner!). You might say “Brekke, why didn’t you just power through?! Tough it out for one night!” Except that A) I’m really broke and couldn’t justifying spending my hard earned (or loaned-out) money on drinks that I couldn’t taste anyway, and B) I had to get up early on Sunday morning. Why you might ask? Oh, because I accepted an invitation to preach on New Year’s Day, like a good little seminarian. So December 31^st, 2011 was spent tweaking a sermon, and trying desperately to get over the Death Cold before I had to preach at 11am the next morning. I am happy to report that God answers prayers and I got over the Death Cold in time to preach (although, I’m still waiting on the mysterious inheritance from a kindly old person to come my way…).

I didn’t just preach anywhere. I preached at a quaint, little community church in Lawerenceville, Georgia to a congregation of mostly over-40 adults (and literally 4 kids) who had the commitment to not just come to church the day after New Year’s, but to come listen to some strange seminarian who isn’t even a member of their denomination. Yep, not even a member of their tradition. Someone outside their boundaries (not that this church seemed to have particularly thick boundaries). Amazing Grace Lutheran Church, part of the ELCA (clearly, since I’m a lady-preacher), welcomed me with open arms and warm smiles when I came to preach. I was “reformed enough” as a Presbyterian, and although I was hopelessly lost during much of the liturgy (thank the Good Lord for the Cantor), my sermon and prayers at this “dry Mass” were kindly received.

Prepping at the Pastor's Desk - all official and stuff

 

They had me “robe up” – something way beyond my comfort zone. I wore an alb (and felt rather holy and also completely inept at the same time), which is the first time I’ve ever worn liturgical robes in any form or fashion. I felt a bit like a nun instead of a preacher.

 

I preached on the Holy Name – one of the more obscure selection for the first Sunday after Christmas (my Feasting on the Word commentary didn’t even have it listed!).  And while there were moments that I was scared out of my mind (like the three seconds before I started my sermon), I knew as I opened my mouth that it wasn’t about me and my feelings of inadequacy. It was about the Word of God, the movement of the Holy Spirit, and the redemptive love of Christ.

Children's moment - each name is especially chosen!

It is so easy in this world to forget our chosenness. To forget that God knit us together in our mother’s womb. That God calls us by name.

Jesus' name was specially chosen too - in Hebrew it means "He Saves"

 

For the first time I saw myself in local parish ministry. I know that it’s not the life-long calling that some people feel, but it is a calling of mine. To preach, to teach, to touch the lives of individuals with the boundless love of God. This is a brand New Year – a year that started off with the Word proclaimed, a year of “Holy Discomfort”, and a year of great change. Hopefully I’ll muddle through, and y’all will be along for the adventure!

That Parament is providential

Pride!

Friends! It’s been ages. I know that I am quite on the edge of failing, but there has been much mayhem afoot (and good things too).

I am trying to get two videos edited, but my camera – the trusty little red camera which survived Europe and Cambodia, died upon returning state-side. Terribly sad day. I lost all the footage of my last week in England, including London pictures, video of my last, epic party, and snap-shots of my dear Wesley House friends. There has been a part of me which has been loath to update out of protest (even though that’s just silly, but hey – that’s me, right?). 

I am, however, updating from a few of my more recent adventures, because y'all should know that just because I’m back in good old Atlanta, I haven’t given up adventuring! There’s much to do here – And I am going to attempt to do it ALL!

This past weekend was the 41^st annual Atlanta Pride march through Midtown. I walked for the first time, and oh my goodness it was amazing! To be surrounded by hundreds (thousands?) of people who were cheering and rejoicing in all the love and joy of honest and authentic self expression was amazing. And, to represent a divinity school – a population so often considered to be non-affirming, was a gift. On many levels being apart of this celebration was as much a religious experience as carrying the Cross to Walsingham at Easter (I promise to write a post about that too!). 

I'm pretty in pink representing Sacred Worth!

Atlanta Gets Festive!

Megan is shy...and all the Emory kids decide to match (except me)

A float of amazing drag Queens and a timeline of the AIDS pandemic in America...moving in so many ways

 I didn't take pictures of the enormous crowds, but I wish I had. There were thousands of people lining the streets, cheering and clapping. Several of the churches we passed had members (and clergy!) handing out water along the roadside to walkers. It was like Christmas, and Mardi Gras, and Halloween and Purim and all sorts of good times rolled into one march. And it was empowering. To know that all people are affirmed and surrounded by the love of God and neighbor is powerful. It was my first time being at Pride (and as I like to do - I go all the way or not at all, so of course I walked it). 

It is a beautiful reminder of why I came back home, no matter how far I stray: Atlanta, for all it's craziness, is a place of hospitality and welcome. May I strive to open the arms of welcome to all people, near and far. For, I like the Hebrews, have been a stranger and a strange land, and profoundly respect the need for a little love and generosity.

 And all God's people said, Amen.

Return of the Sojourner

Friends, I have been living in the proverbial whirlwind! This has been a season of coming and going, of packing and moving, and of catching up with life. I am safely back “home” in Atlanta and can report that my flight across the pond was thankfully uneventful. I have spent the last three weeks attempting to adjust back to Southern American heat and humidity – with only mixed success.

I have many more adventures to tell y’all! There is still my Easter pilgrimage to Walsingham and my trip to Scotland and North Umbria which have yet to be related. I have yet to bring you the joyous story of why I came home in June instead of July (which includes my ginger auntie, a purple wedding dress and a really awesome jazz band). And – most recently – I have stories to share about the Conyers Presbyterian Church summer mission trip to Gulf Port, Mississippi.

There is SO MUCH left to tell, so many adventures which are owed a bit of internet space. And, my hope is that I will continue to have adventures to share with y’all. I may not be living abroad any more, but that is no reason for the stories and escapades to end. So I’ll be here – hopefully more regularly than I have been these last several months – updating about my travels near and far, and maybe even telling a good joke or two to boot.

Cheers y’all!

Top C hallmates, 2011!