Lenten Poetry: Day 20

Hallowed

I could live in the prayer's beginning
HALLOWED HALLOWED HALLOWED
encircled in the symphony of a holy choir
whose singing has no end,
but all too swiftly
I am beyond that
and asking:
GIVE GIVE GIVE
and more than daily bread.
Where do the words come from?
How does my voice insinuate itself
into his prayer?
O Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,
hold my hand...

--Ann Weems

By faith...Moses

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. By faith…Moses. Yes, Moses, the little baby who was placed in a basket by his mother and sent down the river. His mother hoped for a better life for him. Moses, who was found by the daughter of Pharaoh down river. Moses, who fled to Midian and was taken in by the priest of Midian. Zipporah, one of the daughters of the priest, is given to Moses in marriage. And while Moses was keeping watch over the flock the angel of the Lord appeared to him through a burning bush. Yes, a burning bush. And God spoke to Moses, telling him to remove his sandals because he is standing on holy ground. Then God proceeded to tell Moses that he is being sent to Pharaoh to bring the Israelites out of Egypt.

Often I have wished for a burning bush. Yes, a burning bush. I went to college thinking that I was called to ministry. I declared Religion as my major. And so on my very first day of college I went to my Religion 100 class. I was blown out of the water. My professor had some pretty “out there” thoughts in relation to my Sunday school upbringing. So as I struggled through that class I did some discerning. I decided that if I could barely make in through a Religion 100 class I probably wasn’t called to ministry. So I changed my major to Communications and went on my merry way. In the back of my mind I still wondered if I was called to ministry. So I often prayed that God would show me some sign. And I wanted a sign that was easy to recognize. Sometimes I even prayed that God would send me a burning bush or a billboard. Well, to this day I have not stumbled on any burning bushes or any flashing billboards telling me what to do with my life.

However, I have stumbled upon some pieces of holy ground. Like Moses there have been some times when I needed to take off my sandals, because the ground on which I was standing was holy ground.

It was the fall of 2005. I was doing relief work in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina when I met a man who had lost everything to the water damage and mold in his house. He had lost all the photos of his wife. He had lost all his daughter’s mementos. Yet, through the dirt and the water and the pain this man still had faith. I heard God saying to me “remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

It was the summer of 2009. I was doing my clinical pastoral education at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN when I met a woman in her 40s who had just found out that her body was filled with metastasized cancer. She was recently divorced and the mother of three teenage daughters. I sat with her while she told her daughters that their time together was limited. And then in the midst of doubt, uncertainty, and anger she asked me to pray. I heard God saying to me “remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

It was the summer of 2010. I was asked to officiate at my cousin’s wedding. The ceremony was beautiful. I was so blessed to be pronouncing two people as husband and wife. And in the midst of all of their wedded bliss they took time at their reception to honor our grandmother who had died nine years prior. As a family we all released balloons, so that she could be a part of their special day. And as I watched those balloons float to heaven, I heard God saying to me “remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

Moses stepped out in faith. He removed the sandals from his feet and stood on holy ground. Then after several attempts to barter with God he followed God’s call for his life, to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. We, too, are called to step out in faith. We are called to remove the sandals from our feet and stand on holy ground with those we love and with the God who loves us. And like Moses, we are called to follow God’s call for our life, even when it may seem difficult, unpopular, and even when God’s call doesn’t come in the form of a burning bush. Amen.

Lenten Poetry: Day 19

Winding Down

We run around the world and church
like wound-up toys,
looking for a way to get to Easter
without reading the instructions.
When we wind down,
we lie on the floor
on our faces,
unable to move.
Perhaps, in the still and the silence,
God will give us the courage
to see our souls
and give us the chance
once more
to choose Life:
faith, rather than frenzy.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 18

Shaking The Dust From Off Their Feet

He asked them point blank
why they didn't stop by anymore.
At first they responded politely
that they'd been awfully busy,
but would certainly be calling
one of these days real soon.
Pressed, they spewed it out:
Despite their efforts
to care and to comfort,
he refused to see
any stars in his dark skies.
The community could no longer stay
waiting for his eyes to see,
but had to continue, as always,
in search of Light.
You know, they said,
where you can find us.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 17

The Way To Jerusalem Is Cluttered

The way to Jerusalem
is cluttered
with bits and pieces of our lives
that fly up and cry out,
wounding us as we try
to keep upon this path
that leads to Life.

Why didn't somebody tell us
that it would be so hard?

In the midst of the clutter,
the children laugh
and run after stars.
Those of us who are wise
will follow,
for the children will be the first
to kneel in Jerusalem.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 16

The Last Shall Be First

Along the way the pilgrims heard
that a group of people
had set out for Jerusalem
without a map.
Since each of us owned
our own map
and read it daily
and even then
had difficulty knowing
which way to turn,
we were amazing
that they would set out
on their own...
amazed and alarmed.
Many a day we had
prayed and consulted
over choices
in the road.
This news presented
a greater dilemma:
Which of us would go
in the rescue part?
Whoever went would
most certainly
not get to Jerusalem
on time.
Distraught,
we prayed.
Then it was we realized
that the ones who went
in search of the lost
would be the first
to arrive in Jerusalem.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 15

Careful Consideration

Certain in-charge church people
expound upon the finer points of doctrine
while the disenfranchised await the verdict.

Meanwhile the holy fools rush in
and touch the outcasts,
creating Good News once again.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 14

Forgive, O Holy One

Stressed and anxious,
the people come
to be comforted
and are put in committee.
Forgive, O Holy One,
our weariness
with your world
and with your word.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 13

A Listening

Going through Lent
is a listening.
When we listen
to the word,
we hear
where we are so
blatantly
unliving.
If we listen to the word,
and hallow it
into our lives,
we hear
how we can so
abundantly
live again.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 12

God's Graffiti

We've splashed our rules
all over the sanctuary walls...
so many rules we don't have time
for dancing...
our graffiti
defiling the house of God.
God's graffiti is different:
God writes LOVE
upon our hearts.
Some night, let's sneak in the sanctuary
and paint over the rules
and write God's graffiti
all over the walls...
LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 11

Churchgoers

The man sat down and said,
"This pew is too hard!"
The woman sat down and said,
"This pew is too soft!"
The child sat down and said,
"This pew is just right!"
Some get in the habit of denigrating
when it's just as easy
to get in the habit of celebrating.

--Ann Weems

Great Love

John 3:1-17

Today we encounter Nicodemus. And in order to get to the most popular verse in the whole Bible we have to understand this story of Nicodemus just a little bit. Nicodemus was a Pharisee, a leader of the Jews. And on one particular night, in order that his colleagues might not see him, he came to Jesus with a few questions. He was curious about being reborn. He thought he would literally need to be born again. He thought he needed to put his finger on the exact time, date, and place when he was born again. This is where Nicodemus made the wrong turn. He misunderstood Jesus. Jesus was not talking about a literal rebirth. He was not talking about a physical rebirth. Jesus was talking about being born from above. He was talking about a spiritual rebirth. Being born from above is not about what individuals do. Nicodemus could not give birth to himself. Being born from above is about what God does. God breathes life into us and gives birth to us from above. Through God’s action we are born into eternal life. God’s action is an action of love. It is an action of “great” love. God’s love is so great that God sent Jesus, God’s only son to show us “great” love.

I would like to share with you a story about “great” love. There was a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare & serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. He hesitated for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes I'll do it if it will save her." As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as everyone else did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away?” Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.

This is “great” love. This little boy loved his sister in such a way that he wanted to save her, regardless of what might happen to him. He was willing to die so that she might live. This little boy is an example of how we can strive to love in a way similar to how God loves us. God loves in a way that God sent God’s ONLY Son into the world to live the life of a human and to die on a cross for OUR salvation. “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” Jesus died for YOUR salvation. Jesus died for MY salvation. Jesus died for the salvation of the whole WORLD.

Jesus gave his life in place of ours. He took on the death that we deserve. In order for the world to be saved Jesus NEEDED to be “lifted up” on the cross, “lifted up” to resurrected life from the tomb, and “lifted up” at the ascension when Jesus returns to God. This was done out of God’s love for the world. This was done out of “great” love.

If you are an avid reader of the New York Times or a watcher of CNN you may have heard some news about Rob Bell over the past week. According to the New York Times, Bell is one “of the country’s most influential evangelical pastors.” Rob Bell is the pastor of 10,000 members at Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, MI. He is also a writer and has a video series that our High School Sunday School class uses. His appearance in the news is over his newly released book “Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived.” If you haven’t heard all the hype about this book, you may be wondering what the big deal is. The big deal is that some readers think his book is headed towards universalism. Universalism suggests that everyone goes to heaven and there is no hell or if there is a hell it is empty. The idea of universalism is not very popular in the evangelical circles and his colleagues have spoken very loudly about their displeasure with Bell’s new book. Now, I have not read the book yet, but just the title “Love Wins” speaks loudly to me. It speaks loudly about God’s love. Whether there is a hell or not. Regardless of if it is empty. Bell’s title argues that love wins…God’s love wins. And that is the truth. Whether or not we agree with the other messages of his book, that is the the gospel message for today. God’s love wins.

John 3:16, arguable the most popular Bible verse in our society today, says “For God so loved the world.” In this manner God loved the world. God loved the WHOLE world. God loved in a way that God gave. God did not give to condemn, but to save. And ultimately, God’s love wins. Throughout the Lenten journey much emphasis is placed on the sinfulness of humanity and the need for repentance. However, that is not the only reason we are on this journey. We are journeying to the cross. This journey is not about what we have done or left undone, but about what God has done. This message of love is not an if/then message. It is not about how many good works we do in order to inherit eternal life. It is a because/therefore message. Because of the “great” love God has for us we love others in response. It was out of love that Jesus came among us, stood beside us, died with us, for us, and saved us. It was out of “great” love. May we be bold enough to share that “great” love with others. Amen.

Lenten Poetry: Day 10

Memory

We sit in memory,
chocolate on our faces,
receiving
love in an Easter basket
and
hope in a Red Letter Testament.

For that time,
it was more than enough.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 9

Belonging

Full communion in the church
doesn't mean what it used to.
Even those who belong don't belong
if they don't have the rights
and privileges of the others.
The list of nonbelonging belongers is long.
If you're included in the list
(which means you're excluded),
you know it,
even though you've been assured
that the belonging believers
have compassion for your plight.

Fortunately, you know from
the scriptures and confessions
that you belong where it counts.
You options include
turning the other cheek
and assuring the belonging believers
that you have compassion for their plight.
Blessed are the poor in privilege,
for they belong to God.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 8

The Way

The way to Jerusalem
looks suspiciously like Highway 40,
and the pilgrims
look suspiciously like you and me.
I expected the road to Jerusalem
to be crowded with holy people...
clerics and saints...
people who have kindness wrinkled in their faces
and comfort lingering in their voices,
but this is more like rush hour...
horns blowing, people pushing, voices cursing...
This is not what I envisioned!

O God, I've only begun and already
I feel I've lost my way.
Surely this is not the road
and surely these
are not the ones
to travel with me.
This Lenten journey calls for
holy retreat,
for reflection
and repentance.

Instead of holiness
the highway is crammed
with the cacophony
of chaos.
Is there no back road
to Jerusalem?
No quiet path
where angels tend
to weary travelers?
No sanctuary
from the noise of the world?
Just this?
Can this hectic highway
be the highway to heaven?

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 7

Walking Rainbows

A rainbow is not just a symphony of colors
sent to calm the storm in our souls;
it is a talk with God,
a mysterious, miraculous conversation with God,
heart to heart,
the very heart of God saying to our hearts:
"I remember I am your God.
Be my walking rainbows,
so that the whole world
will know to whom you belong,
for I am the God who keeps promises,
and I have not forgotten our covenant."
This is the hope of the church:
that God keeps promises.
The mission of the church is to
walk among the suffering and give,
for we are covenant keepers,
walking rainbows,
bringing the hope of the good news to the poor.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 6

The Visit

I went to visit her,
but dreaded seeing
her body cancer-filled.
What I saw upon her bed
was a small bag of yellowed skin
full of bones.
She faced the window
away from the door I entered,
and I heard her whisper
this prayer:
"Thank you, God:
I had a nice time."

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 5

The Disciples

Hurting, they came to him.
Healed, they followed him.
Grateful, they gave to him
what they had and what they were.
Blessed, they became a blessing
and went out to all the world
in his name.

Those who are hurt
and healed
grateful
and blessed
still move among us
in his name.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 4

Put Away The Tinsel

When Lent comes,
you have to put away the tinsel;
you have to take down your Christmas tree,
and stand out in the open...vulnerable.
You either are or you aren't.
You either believer or your don't.
You either will or you won't.
And, O Lord, how we love the stable and the star!
When Lent come the angels' voices
begin their lamenting,
and we find ourselves in a courtyard
where we must answer
whether we know him or not.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 3

The Walk

Those of us who walk along this road
do so reluctantly.
Lent is not our favorite time of year.

We'd rather be more active--
planning and scurrying around.
All this is too contemplative to suit us.
Besides we don't know what to do
with piousness and prayer.

Perhaps we're afraid to have time to think,
for thoughts come unbidden.
Perhaps we're afraid to face our future
knowing our past.
Give us the courage, O God,
to hear your word
and to read our living into it.
Give us the trust to know we're forgiven,
and give us the faith
to take up our lives and walk.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 2

Lent

Lent is a time to take the time
to let the power of our faith story take hold of us,
a time to let the events
get up and walk around in us,
a time to intensify
our living unto Christ,
a time to hover over
the thoughts of our hearts,
a time to place our feet in the streets of Jerusalem
or to walk along the sea and listen to his word,
a time to tough his robe
and feel the healing surge through us,
a time to ponder and a time to wonder...

Lent is a time to allow a fresh new taste of God!

--Ann Weems

Ashes

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Today we receive ashes. These ashes aren’t just any old ashes though. These are not the ashes from a campfire. They are not the ashes from a dilapidated building. They are not the ashes from the burned text book of the class you didn’t like in school. They are not the ashes from a volcano. These ashes are made from the palm branches we used last year on Palm Sunday as we shouted Hosanna. These ashes carry the reminder that our hopes of triumphal parades can very quickly turn into betrayal, persecution, and burial.

I have seen my fair share of ashes. I spent four summers working at Bible camp. I have sat around close to 240 campfires. That means I have seen a lot of ashes. I played my guitar as the community sang songs. I listened to the gospel being proclaimed. I prayed to God the creator and sustainer of all things. And at every campfire there were ashes. The ashes were the product of the burning logs and branches. The ashes were the leftovers of the fire. They were the waste after the heat and light was gone.

The ashes we receive today are a reminder of who we are. We are ashes. We are people of the dust. We are dusty people. We, who were formed from the dust, will once again return to dust. God, who loved us enough to form us out of the dust of the earth and breathe the breath of life into our bodies, will at the end of our days on this earth welcome us into our eternal home, leaving behind ashes in this, our temporal home.

I saw another kind of ashes at camp. We also did a confession that resulted in ashes. We would invite campers to put their sins on a piece of paper. Then they brought their sins forward and placed them on a nail at the center of the cross. After everyone’s sins were placed on the cross we would start the paper on fire and let the sins burn away. The ashes that remained were in the shape of a rose at the center of the cross. The ashes were the product of the burning sins. The ashes were the beautiful reminder of our forgiveness on the cross.

In the same way, the ashes we receive today are a reminder of repentance and forgiveness. Lent is a time when we are called to repent and change our ways. As we repent we are mournful for the hurtful things we have done to ourselves, to others, and to the world. But today we are reminded, that even though we are dust, we are also God’s children. God has claimed us as God’s own through the cross, and today, in the ashen cross placed upon our foreheads, we are again marked with the cross of Christ, and reminded that we are forgiven. We are stamped as children of God through the cross.

I saw a third kind of ashes at camp. I saw ashes of broken relationships. I saw ashes of abuse. I saw the ashes of hate. I saw the ashes of neglect. I saw ashes of girls that cut themselves. I saw ashes of boys that had attempted suicide. I saw the ashes of being a young person in the world today. I saw the ashes of death. I saw the ashes of life. Sometimes I felt like I was completely surrounded by ashes. And as I sifted through those ashes, I remembered that God was in the ashes and I reminded the young people around me that they are loved. I reminded myself that I am loved.

The ashes we receive today are a reminder of love. At baptism we were marked with the sign of the cross. The ashes that are placed on our foreheads are a reminder of our baptism. They remind us whose we are. We are Christ’s. We are loved. He died that we might live. And not just live, He died that we might have everlasting life.

Ashes. You are dust and to dust you shall return. Do not sound a trumpet before you when you give alms. Do not be the like the hypocrites when you pray. Do not look dismal when you fast. And do not practice your piety in a showy manner. Yet, come and receive ashes. Come with a humble heart. Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. And when you leave this place be reminded of who you are – a loved and forgiven child of God marked with the cross of Christ forever.

What then is our response to the ashes that will be smeared on our foreheads? Will you simply wipe them away pretending nothing has happened? Or will you wear them as your tattoo—your ink for this journey? Eventually the ashes will fade away, but the cross will still remain. We will always be loved and forgiven children of God. We will always be marked with the cross of Christ. We will always be dust.

Today we are invited to a campfire. We are invited to sing hymns. We are invited to listen to the Gospel proclaimed. We are invited to pray to God the creator and redeemer. We are invited to place our sins at the foot of the cross. And today we are invited to receive ashes in the shape of a cross on our forehead. These are ashes of sadness and mortality, of belonging and life, of repentance and mourning, of forgiveness and love. Amen.

Lenten Poetry: Day 1

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. Normally this blog is for my sermons, but for the season of Lent it is also going to be home to some Lenten poetry. These poems are from the book "Kneeling in Jerusalem" written by Ann Weems. May this poetry nourish and sustain you on your Lenten journey. Blessings on the journey!

Ashes

Two nights ago I knelt and
took the ashes form the fireplace.
It was some time before I saw evidence
of the smudge of ash upon my face.
I washed it quickly away.

Last night I knelt and took the bread
and dipped it in the cup,
and then I felt the cool smooth
finger of ash upon my forehead,
ashes from last year's palms
saved for this holy time.
I wondered if there might still be
some remnant of Hosanna!
lingering in the ashes.

All evening long I wore the ash,
that holy ash,
and when others saw the smudge,
I wondered if they were inclined
to wipe it clean
or to lean closer
in the hope of hearing
some soft Hosanna!
burning still
in ash
or heart...

--Ann Weems