Amazed by Grace, Part Infinity

One of the things that gave me the most anxiety as I returned to the pastorate was how my congregation(s) would treat my children. I had heard good stories, but I also heard horror stories about churches that didn't want children, treated them as nuisances, placed unrealistic expectations on the pastor's children, etc.

There have been many times over the past year when the people of the Cheriton Charge proved those fears wrong...they have been OUTSTANDING in terms of loving and embracing my children, showing them God's love, living out their baptismal vows...we've been truly blessed.

But today knocked my socks off...and it wasn't until we got home and were eating lunch that the magnitude of what happened hit me.

Susanna (my 5 1/2 yo) has been serving as an acolyte since September. She showed interest, and the member who trains our acolytes did an excellent job training her. In 10 months, we have had no incidences, and Susanna now needs very little supervision. She knows what to do, and she does it.

At the close of the service today, Susanna was in the area around the altar, doing her thing. She had lit her wick, extinguished one candle, and was on her way to extinguish another. We were singing the closing hymn, and all of a sudden I look down (the pulpit is a foot or so above the altar) and see Susanna, crying...with no candlelighter in her hand.

The candlelighter is on the floor...with the WICK STILL LIT.

I swung into action, picked up the candlelighter thingy, extinguished the flame, tossed it aside, and then checked on my daughter. (I was worried about her, of course, but I also didn't want us all to go up in flames.)

She was fine: some melted wax had gotten onto her hand, and so she instinctively dropped the candlelighter. It hurt a little bit where the hot wax had touched it, but I think she was more scared than anything.

What happened next amazed me.

One member (a retired nurse) came up, took Susanna by the hand, and led her to the kitchen to get some ice (I still had to do the benediction).

After I did the benediction, at least 10 other people came up to me and asked, "what happened? Is she OK?"

Everyone asked about my daughter.

No one asked about the carpet.

Their first instinct, their first thought, was about the welfare of my daughter, because they care more about her than about the carpet (which is fine...there may be a teensy burn hole, but it's not very noticeable).

I know, I know...that's the way it's SUPPOSED to be...

But in so many churches, it's not that way. In so many churches, we place a higher value on things than on people. In so many churches, there would have been a stampede to check out the carpet rather than a stampede to check on my daughter.

I am so very, very thankful that my children are being shown Christ's love through the members of my churches. I am so very blessed to serve a church that allows a five-year-old with the desire to be an acolyte to serve in that capacity, and that when she makes a mistake, they respond with love and concern, and not judgment.

Susanna may or may not remember today's events, but I always will. And I will remind her of the little church in the little town on the Eastern Shore who showed her, and her parents, God's amazing love and grace, and helped us all grow up a little bit.

Thank you, Cheriton UMC. The Moneys are blessed to be among you.

Humpty Dumpty: An Alternative Ending

We've all heard the nursery rhyme:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall

And all the king's horses and all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty together again...

But what if it ended a little differently? Maybe with a happier ending...

Humpty Dumpty did sit on a wall...and Humpty did have a great fall...a very painful and embarrassing fall that nearly ruined everything...

BUT...

....A caring friend and colleague used Super Glue and tape to hold the pieces of Humpty Dumpty together...

....A CPE supervisor and a cohort of fellow chaplains helped heal Humpty Dumpty so you almost couldn't tell she had a fall...and so she was willing to sort of trust the King again. 

....An amazing community of faith helped her hear and respond when the King asked Humpty to sit on the wall again. 

....A dedicated and gifted pastor/colleague/friend worked with Humpty so she had the courage and the strength to climb up the wall and sit on it again. 

...Her family and friends and colleagues cheered her on and encouraged her as she climbed and sat on the wall once again...

And Humpty was thankful for it all...and thankful to be serving the King once again...

...But then she started experiencing challenges. 

...She felt afraid...what if she fell again?

...She felt alone...it was lonely sitting up on the wall.

...She felt worried. What if she had made a huge mistake? 

Humpty...may have whined and complained and when she slipped a few times, gotten frustrated that no one seemed like they were going to catch her if she fell again. All her fellow wall-sitters seemed to be looking elsewhere. She loved the wall, but keeping the balance was SO VERY HARD and she just didn't know how to do it. 

So Humpty looked around to see what everyone else was looking at, and saw that everyone was looking at the King. 

So Humpty, desperate for help by now, cried out to the King...and found that when she was looking at the King, she didn't feel as afraid, or as alone, or as worried...and she felt stronger and more confident about sitting on the wall. 

And in the hardest moments, she felt the King holding her up...and it was then that she realized what she had known all along...

That in the falling...and the shattering...and the healing...and the climbing...and the struggling...that the King was working in and through everyone, and as long as Humpty kept her eyes and her focus on the King and on serving him, that he wouldn't let her fall again. 

And so Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall...and she didn't fall, because she had learned to rely upon the King. 

The Wilderness: No Way But Forward

"Then the people of Israel set out from Mount Hor, taking the road to the Red Sea to go around the land of Edom. But the people grew impatient with the long journey, and they began to speak against God and Moses. 'Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die here in the wilderness?' they complained. 'There is nothing to eat here and nothing to drink. And we hate this horrible manna!'" -Numbers 21:4-5

"My company before is gone, and I am left alone with Thee."

-Charles Wesley, "Come O Thou Traveler Unknown" (#386 in the United Methodist Hymnal

I'm in the midst of a wilderness experience. Some people would use the term "desert experience", but the meaning is the same: a period of time where you experience spiritual dryness. I tend to experience God most powerfully in community, so my wilderness experiences tend to occur around periods of transition. As a borderline introvert who can be painfully shy (I can fake it to a certain extent) yet who is very relationally-oriented, that period of time when I have lost one support system and am in the LONG process of building a new support system can be excruciatingly painful. It usually takes me about a year to really trust someone, and that's with consistent contact: it will take more if contact is inconsistent. 

One of the characteristics of the wilderness is that it forces us to depend on God in a way we never have before...it's not that God really leaves us, but God doesn't always manifest Himself in the usual ways, and we are forced to depend on God, and God alone, to provide for our needs. 

In Egypt, the Israelites may have not have been free and they may have endured cruelty, but they had never known any other life, and chances are excellent that they still had plentiful food. In order to get to the promised land, they had to go through the wilderness...where food and water were scarce. God provided what they needed, but they grumbled because it wasn't what they were used to...they were used to having easy access to food and drink, and in the wilderness they had to depend on God for nourishment.

In my case, there was obviously no slavery or cruelty, but I went from having an abundance of Christian community, regular opportunities to be a worshipper and experience preaching, and a strong support system...to a new ministry setting in a new community where I am the one preaching and leading worship every week and where I have to build a new support system. Because I am a pastor in a rural area, because I've been so busy (what with my family being constantly sick all winter and the 11 funerals and the move and transition), and because the vast majority of my emotional strength has been spent on my congregation and family (meaning that I just don't have it in me to initiate new friendships, and am having a hard enough time keeping the ones I already have)...I've had a challenge building a new support system.

It's sort of like going from an all-you-can-eat buffet 24 hours a day to a diet of bread and water, and having to hunt and gather if you want more than what is provided. And the thought of taking my bow and arrow and finding new friends has been...exhausting and overwhelming for most of the past year. 

I am depending on God more than I ever have...and am certainly seeing God ALL OVER THE PLACE...in the people of my churches, in what God is doing here, in my children, in their teachers, in my colleagues...I know without a doubt that this is where I am supposed to be and that God is here with me. I SEE God, I KNOW that God is with me...but I rarely FEEL God's presence. So many days, I feel completely and totally alone, like I'm wandering in a dark room without a flashlight. In some ways, it's surreal...because how can things be SO VERY GOOD and I be SO VERY BLESSED...yet still break down in tears multiple times in a week? 

It's painful...and it's frustrating...and yes, there have been many murmurings on my part. If I have acted like a whiny, selfish, immature brat...those are the wilderness murmurings, and I'm sorry. The Israelites complained because they were sick of manna and had nothing to eat or drink...I complain because no one loves me, no one wants me, no one returns my phone calls or text messages, everyone's too busy with their own perfect lives to listen to my sad tale of woe, my life is harder than anyone else's (please hear the irony and self-deprecation in those sentences)...whine whine murmur murmur. 

I know I am loved by God and by others...I know I do have friends who are praying for me and who are there for me, especially if I tried a little harder to connect with them...it just used to be so much EASIER, and now it's much harder...I have to hunt and gather instead of simply heading to the buffet. However, it's forcing me to rely on God for intimacy, for companionship, for guidance...and that is helping me to become the pastor, the wife, the mother, the follower of Jesus that God is calling me to be. 

What my murmurings mean, and what I think the Israelites meant, too, is, "God, I miss Egypt, but I know I can't go back there...I know I'm where I need to be...I know you'll get me to the Promised Land eventually...but in the meantime, I'm pretty scared and feeling lonely and uncertain of what the future holds...and I need your courage, your strength, your wisdom, and your comfort." 

Here's hoping and praying that I find the Promised Land at the end of this wilderness experience...and that when the time comes, my experience in the wilderness will have prepared me to boldly and courageously enter whatever future God has for me. 

And maybe my murmurs will begin to quiet down...if not, please be patient. This wilderness thing is tough. 

Before the Butterfly Comes the Cocoon

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us..."
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

During a time of intense soul-searching this week, I had an epiphany. 

Eighteen months ago, I sat down with my then-District Superintendent and boldly told him, "send me to a church that is poised for transformation, but needs someone to lead them through it." It sounds cocky, but it's where I felt (and still feel) my calling and gifts lie...to bring hope and healing and new life to people and groups. 

When I met with the Pastor-Parish Relations Committee of my current appointment, I sensed that this was IT. As I got to know some of the leaders of both churches (particularly my larger church), I kept thinking, "this is it! This is the church I prayed for! This is the church I asked for!"

And it is. I have no doubt about that. None whatsoever. God has amazing things in store for this church. 

However, I made a mistake. That mistake was thinking that our ministry together was going to begin at the chrysalis...that point when the butterfly emerges, spreads its wings, and shows the world what it's made of. Another analogy is that I thought that our ministry together would begin at the entrance to the Promised Land; kicking butt in the name of God right and left as we harvested the milk and honey. 

If you know me well, you know that I am an incurable idealist who is also incredibly optimistic. "Tomorrow" from "Annie" is my favorite song. These traits can be very powerful gifts for a number of reasons, but they can also cause me to bite off WAY more than I can chew, not see reality until it pretty much punches me in the face, and become discouraged if these big dreams and high hopes don't materialize when they're "supposed to". 

All that being said, it makes sense that this weekend, I found myself sobbing on my husband's shoulder and telling him how I feel like an utter failure as a pastor/leader. After all, I've been here for almost a year, and a) worship attendance has remained the same, b) giving has remained the same, c) we are still behind on apportionments, and d) we have had no professions of faith. Externally, everything is the same. I feel like all I've done this year is preaching and funerals and pastoral care and getting to know people and transitioning my family and myself into this new life (and then there was the long fall/winter of sickness, including James and Susanna both having pneumonia while a hurricane raged outside). 

I had forgotten about the cocoon and the wilderness. The greatest transformation happens inside the cocoon, before the butterfly emerges. From the outside, it looks like nothing is happening. But amazing transformation IS happening...the world just can't see it yet. If the cocoon is forced open, the transformation is never completed.The Israelites had to have that long journey from Egypt to Israel, and then those 40 years in the dessert, in order to become the people that God was calling them to be.

At the right time, the transformation is complete, the cocoon breaks open, and the caterpillar emerges as a butterfly. 

At the right time (40 years; a Biblical number of completion), the Israelites ended their wilderness wanderings and entered the Promised Land, and did begin kicking butt right and left in the name of God as they entered the land of milk and honey. 

And at the right time...and it may very well be within this next year...although only God knows...we will emerge from our cocoon, from our own painful transformation...and the world will be able to witness what before only God and a few wise people could see. We'll see it, too...because I have learned for myself that in order for true transformation to occur, you have to first believe in yourself and be able to see you as God sees you. 

Transformation begins in the heart...and it begins internally...and only when that process is complete, do you begin to see fruit. I had forgotten about that. 

In the meantime...maybe God is calling me, and calling us, to remain in the cocoon a little longer, to be in the wilderness for a few more months, and to allow God to do some more internal renovation before the transformation is complete and before we enter the Promised Land.

Big Girl Panties? Check. Super Glue? Check. Tissues? Check.

John Stott, a renowned Christian pastor/teacher/author was once asked by someone, "How do you determine God's will for your life?" His answer? "Go wherever your gifts will be exploited the most."

My interpretation of that statement is that my true calling is found wherever my gifts are used to the fullest...that sacred place where my passions and my natural God-given talents are incredibly vulnerable,  I have to trust God and, as a friend of mine told me a year or so ago, "be bold, be brave, and be faithful"...and experience God doing amazing things.

That's easier said than done, mostly because it is freaking heartbreaking.

I was a hospital chaplain for almost four years, during my "sabbatical" from local church ministry. I loved it. I was good at it. I had the gifts to be a career chaplain.

However, I chose to become a pastor again because I realized that chaplaincy was not my true calling. In some ways, it was too easy: I usually would swoop into a room, offer 5-15 minutes of my presence, listening skills, words of comfort, and prayer. Then, I would leave, and most of the time, I would never see that person or that family again. In other ways, it was too frustrating. I would have a really good visit with someone, go fairly deep...and then the visit would end, they'd be discharged, and I would never have a chance to follow up with them or build a relationship.

Emotionally, it did not require much of me. My gifts (which include compassion and a personality that values relationships) were not being used to the fullest...I was not made vulnerable, and I just sensed that something was missing. I wanted more...God was calling me to be more...

So, I became a pastor again. After 11 months in my current appointment, I can say that HERE is where my true calling is...because HERE my gifts are most definitely exploited.

In the past eight months, I have had eleven deaths between my two churches. As I have grown closer to my people, each death and each funeral has required more and more of me on an emotional level...seeing people I love in pain, walking with someone through the "valley of the shadow of death", being that strong, calming, pastoral presence in the midst of grief, preaching a funeral sermon (that you hope and pray will do justice to and celebrate the life that someone lived and how God worked in and through them and that it will bless the family and bring glory to God), and in the midst of all that, dealing with my own feelings of grief and loss which, although they pale in comparison to those of the family and even those of many in the congregation, are very real and powerful.

In March, I laid to rest a beloved member of the church and community whom I had connected with, and would have liked to connect with more if she hadn't gotten sick and died. I cried (privately) when I left her room for what I knew would be the last time. I channeled my emotions into her funeral service, which I think was one of the best I've done so far. I was calm and I was strong...but I will confess that after the graveside service, instead of going immediately to the church for the reception, I drove to a safe spot and cried for a few minutes before pulling myself together and heading to the reception. It was painful and emotional...but it was also so incredibly honoring and fulfilling to be able to celebrate this woman's life. I would not have wanted anyone else to do it.

Death number 12 is coming in the near future, unless a miracle happens. He's been sick for a long time and this is not a surprise, but it will hit me harder...and is already hitting me harder...than all the others combined. I've had more time and opportunities to connect with this individual and his wife, they've blessed me a lot (probably without realizing it, and possibly more than I've blessed them), and their son is also a UM pastor who is in the clergy group I attend on a fairly regular basis. This member is a beloved member of the church, and his death will hit both my congregations fairly hard. I hate hate hate seeing people I love in pain/grief...and I am already sensing anticipatory grief from all angles. I sense it on Sunday morning, when we share prayer requests. I sense it when I visit their home. I sense it from my colleague/friend...and I'm definitely sensing it in myself, as I sit here crying and feeling ridiculous for being this emotional on behalf of people who I didn't even know a year ago, but who have wormed their way into my heart.

Where my open heart is...there my vulnerability lies, and where my passion and gifts can be best used by God.

So, I will put on my big girl panties, I will attach them with super glue if I need to, and I will keep a box of tissues handy for the next few weeks/months...and with fear, trembling, and a huge dose of faith and reliance on God, I will brave the pain, bare my heart, offer my relational compassion...and trust that God will exploit/utilize my gifts and offerings to God's glory...and that by God's grace I will be who I need to be for everyone involved.

It will be hard on so many levels...but it's what God is calling me to do and who God is calling me to be...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

However, I solicit your prayers that after this, we will have a break from funerals for a while. I'd like us to have a season of joy. My people deserve some joy.

Crawling Out of My Hole...

Hi there! (waves) It's been an interesting few months in the Money household. Actually, maybe I should back up a year or so...

As I've mentioned before, I planned to go back under appointment in July 2012. I met with the District Superintendent, I had an interview with some Annual Conference officials, I was approved to resume full-time ministry, and then I waited. I had asked for (and was praying for) an appointment within a reasonable distance so that I could commute from Chesapeake. I had VERY SPECIFIC ideas of what this appointment would look like. Last March, I received news that I was being appointed to a two-point charge (that means two churches sharing a pastor) on the Eastern Shore, in a lovely town called Cheriton, about 10 miles north of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel.  And for a variety of reasons, we would need to move into the parsonage and live in the community.

The churches sounded like a really good match for me, but we hadn't expected to ALL have to move, and...let's just say our minds were blown, and we had two days to pray and make a major decision about whether I/we would accept the appointment or turn it down.

We prayed. We cried. We consulted with wise and loving friends. We prayed some more.

And we took a huge leap of faith and accepted the appointment. I say "we", because while I'm the pastor, I would not and could not have accepted this appointment without James' agreement and support.

When I met the Pastor-Parish Relations Committee last April, I had a strong sense this was where God was calling me.

After my first month, as church members embraced me, my husband, my children, and even my DOG for who I am/who they are, I was certain that this was where God had called me to be.

Eight months in, and I am still amazed at how God was worked in and through this appointment to teach me about grace and trust and love and the transformation that can happen when we open our minds to the possibilities God has for us.

In other words, things are going well. So well it's kind of scary.

Susanna is in kindergarten at the local elementary school, Greg is attending preschool, and James is commuting ATB (Across the Bay) and just left Booz Allen to begin a new job. Simon is adjusting to being the "pastor's pooch" again.

We like the Eastern Shore (although I will confess to missing having three different grocery stores within 5 miles, and Target, and our friends), and are looking forward to this spring and summer, so we can further explore the beach, the town of Cape Charles, and some of the festivals that occur. And did I mention the FRESH SEAFOOD?

Life is good. Come visit. There's a fantastic place in Cape Charles that sells homemade ice cream. And cute shops in Cape Charles. And some good restaurants. And the BEACH.

Stay tuned for more reflective blog posts. I have discovered that I need an outlet to process my thoughts. Be prepared, for they are many.

"The God Who Doesn't Meet Our Expectations": Sermon for July 22, 2012

Note: In a Holy Spirit coincidence, I had already chosen to preach on this passage from Isaiah, and had fleshed out a good deal of the sermon, when I attended David Chew's service...and heard our District Superintendent, Rev. Tammy Estep, also preach on this passage. 

Rev. Patti Money

Cheriton/Travis Chapel UMC

Isaiah 43:1-7

July 22, 2012

"The God Who Doesn't Meet Our Expectations"

Monday afternoon, after having lunch with someone in Cape Charles, I got into my car and used my cell phone to check my e-mail. There were the usual mass e-mails promoting this, that, or the other thing. And then I saw one from the District Office, with the subject “prayer concern”, when I opened that e-mail and read the contents, my heart dropped to my knees as I read the news that one of our Eastern Shore clergy, who was also an EMT and a volunteer fireman, had died while responding to a call with the Bloxum Fire Department. His name was David Chew, he was 30 years old, and while he had not been a close friend, I had known him for six years and certainly considered him a friend. Many of you heard the news that afternoon or the next morning, and I know that some of you knew David also, probably even better than I did. Even if you didn’t know David personally, the thought of a young man in our community, who was in the prime of life and who dedicated his life to serving others, dying a sudden death is heart-wrenching. It shakes us up. It makes us question. 

On Friday morning, as we woke up and checked the newspaper, watched the news on TV, or read the news online, we heard that a gunman had entered a packed movie theatre in Colorado, and opened fire on a group of people watching a midnight showing of the new Batman movie. Twelve people were killed; over fifty people were injured. It is the sort of senseless violence and devastating news that affects all of us on some emotional level, even though we live thousands of miles from the Denver area and may not know anyone personally affected by this tragedy. It shakes us up. It makes us question.  

Why...why does God let these sorts of things happen? How can God let these things happen? Why didn’t God save David Chew, who was in “full flower”, had so much potential, and leaves behind a wife and child. Why didn’t God stop James Holmes from going into that movie theatre, from buying those guns and ammunition, from pulling the trigger? Why were some people killed or injured and others were not? Why did the crash of a fire truck result in one person walking away with minor injuries and another losing his life? God did not meet our expectations. And that was the crux of the matter for those of us who put David Chew to rest on Friday, for those who were directly impacted by the movie theatre shooting, for those of us who watched the horror on the news, and it is something we face every day of our existence, especially in the hardest times: we expect that a God of infinite love, infinite power, and infinite knowledge would prevent disasters large and small from occurring. But that just doesn’t happen, does it? God does not meet our expectations. Even when it seems like we’re doing everything “right”, even when we’re perfectly in line with God’s will, bad things still happen in the world. A 30-year-old pastor and firefighter dies in the line of duty. Innocent people attending opening night of a movie are shot and killed. Our loved ones get cancer and die. We lose our jobs. Friends betray us. We expect that if we love God, if we follow God’s will, if we put our faith and trust in God, that everything will be fine…and so often it isn’t fine. God does not meet our expectations.

The key words are “our expectations”. Because that’s exactly what they are: our expectations for who we expect God to be and what we expect God to do versus what scripture tells us about who God is and what God does. 

If you look carefully through scripture, you certainly see many, many stories of God intervening on behalf of God’s people, both groups and individuals. However, you also see many times when God appeared not to intervene, or waited a while to intervene. And most of the time when God did intervene and heal the sick, raise the dead, win a battle, not everyone was spared. There were still casualties. So, what do we do with that? When we continue to look at scripture, we see one consistent theme throughout the Bible: God promises to be with His people, and fulfills that promise, whether or not we are aware of it, or even whether or not we believe it. That’s the promise we hear in today’s scripture reading, from Isaiah 43:

This passage was most likely written during a time when the bulk of the population of Israel was in exile in Babylon, a land far, far away from Israel. God’s people had been unfaithful, had broken God’s laws, and had paid for it by being conquered by a foreign army and deported to Babylon. That’s the simple story. The Israelites had been through a difficult time, were going through a difficult time, and were facing difficult times ahead of them. This part of Isaiah is speaking hope to them…and speaks hope to us in the 21^st century.

Listen to the language of the passage: do not fear…when this happens…when that happens…when the other thing happens…God knows that these things will happen, that tragedy and pain and suffering will come into our lives. But listen to the words in between…I created you…I formed you…I redeemed you…I have called you by name…you are mine…I will be with you. I love you. 

The promise contained in these words is twofold. First, there is the promise that God is with us through thick and thin, that God will never leave us or forsake us, and that God is walking with us and giving us His comfort and peace through even the darkest night and lowest low. Second, there is the promise of redemption…which is a fancy church word meaning changing something for the better. God takes the pain and suffering of our lives and of this world and redeems it…makes something good out of what was bad. It’s the message of all of scripture…Adam Hamilton, who is the pastor of Church of the Resurrection, a United Methodist church in Kansas City, says it best: “The overarching message of the Bible is that God brings life out of death and good out of evil.” 

At David Chew’s funeral on Friday afternoon, Rev. Alex Joyner, who is the pastor of Franktown UMC and helped lead the service, shared a story from Monday night. He and several others were at the Chew residence, and the talking had faded into silence. Suddenly, David and Becky Chew’s three-year-old son, Little David, climbed into his mother’s lap and said that he wanted to sing. So, this little boy who had just lost his Daddy, who may not have understood exactly what was going on, but certainly was able to pick up on the sad mood, sang a solo of “Jesus Loves Me”. And five days later, over five hundred voices sang the same song at David’s funeral...Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to him belong, they are weak but he is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me. Those words remind us that in the midst of death, Jesus brings life, and in the midst of evil, Jesus brings good. And he is with us through it all, even when we don’t realize it. 

God does not live up to our expectations…our expectations that everything will be fine, that we will not suffer, that we will not experience pain…but God does fulfill His promise…that He loves us, that we are his children, that he will be with us, holding us, and loving us through every moment of our lives, giving us strength, giving us wisdom, giving us peace. We can go through life being frustrated that God does not live up to our expectations…or we can go through life being thankful that God always lives up to his promises to redeem us, to be present with us in our struggles, and to bring hope out of even the darkest times.

"Spending Our Inheritance": Sermon for July 15, 2012

Rev. Patti Money

Ephesians 1:3-14

Cheriton/Travis Chapel UMC

July  15, 2012

"Spending Our Inheritance"

I have a confession to make. I am a huge Harry Potter fan. I’ve read all the books, seen all the movies, and own them to boot. If this fact upsets you, because there are Christians who think Harry Potter is evil, then we can certainly have a conversation about it and I’ll listen to your perspective and I’ll share mine with you. Chances are though, that we will part agreeing to disagree because I’m fairly unrepentant in my love for The Boy Who Lived. 

One of the reasons that I love the Harry Potter series so much that I have consistently seen scriptural themes throughout the series, although it is clearly mired in fantasy. For those of you who may not be familiar with the storyline, here it is in a nutshell: Harry Potter was orphaned as an infant and raised by his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys. For the first ten years of his life, Harry is barely tolerated by his relatives, scorned for being different, forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs in their house, and given his (much larger) cousin’s hand-me-down clothes to wear. However, as his 11th birthday neared, things begin to change. He receives a letter, but before he can read it, his uncle intercepts it. More letters begin to arrive...through the mail slot, then through the chimney, no matter what his aunt and uncle do to prevent Harry from receiving this letter, it doesn’t work. The sender of the letter keeps finding new ways to reach Harry. Whoever is trying to reach Harry is very persistent, and eventually Harry finds out what the fuss is all about: magical blood runs in his veins, he is the son of two powerful wizards, and that weird lightning-shaped scar on his forehead is not an ordinary scar from the fictional car accident that his parents allegedly died in, but a sign of who he is, a sign of someone gifted with abilities and called to be more than who is currently is. Harry is invited to train as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, invited to become who he was born to be. He accepts the invitation, and discovers his identity, his gifts, and his calling. He also discovers that his parents left him a small fortune, and inheritance, if you will, in addition to the gifts they passed down to him. And with those discoveries come freedom...freedom to be who he was created and gifted to be, and freedom from a life that he found to be fairly miserable. We see, as the series unfolds, how Harry is a key part of a plan, a prophecy, to make his world right again. To, in a sense, work with others to help redeem his world. 

I thought of Harry’s story as I was reading and praying over today’s scripture. In this passage, we hear a similar but more powerful message of our identity, our calling, and the freedom and hope that come when we realize who we are. God, the creator of the world, in whom all things and people find life, created us in God’s image. Even before we knew who or cared who God was, God was working in us, drawing us into a relationship with Him, and calling us to be more than we had become and to become more than we could ever imagine. God gave us an identity, gave us gifts, and is calling us to use those gifts to share His transforming love with this world. We have been adopted as beloved children by the creator of the universe, and it is in Jesus, God made flesh, that we can find out who we are. When we discover God’s love for us, when we find out who we really are...not people living meaningless lives but children of the creator and redeemer of heaven and earth...we are given a ticket to freedom, a ticket to a life beyond anything we could ever imagine. We have the opportunity to not just experience eternal life, but to experience an abundant and fulfilling life right now, while we are still here on earth. We are invited to partner with God to share God’s love with this world and change this world. We are invited to become the hands and feet of God, to help redeem this world. And God will keep extending that invitation, keep persistently working in us until we accept our spiritual inheritance, our identity, our gifts, and the freedom and joy that comes from knowing whose we are, who we are, and living that out on a daily basis. God wants us not to just experience life eternally, but to experience life and freedom in the here and now. 

There is a key difference between United Methodist theology and that of some other denominations, such as the Baptists. I’m not trying to knock the Baptists by any means; they are our brothers and sisters in Christ and God does amazing things through them; I’m just pointing out one of our differences. While Methodists believe in salvation and judgment, in heaven and hell and all that stuff, eternal salvation is not our primary focus in evangelism and in mission work. We don’t do mission work primarily to save people from the fires of hell: we do it so that people can experience God’s transforming, freeing love RIGHT NOW and so their lives can become more abundant RIGHT NOW. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, used to say, “there is no holiness without social holiness.” In other words, the only way we can be holy, to be like God, to be who God is calling us to be, is to love and care for others, those who are on the margins of society; the hungry, the homeless, the sick, the orphans. Jesus gives us freedom NOW. Jesus gives us life NOW. Yes, heaven exists and it will be wonderful when we get there...but before we get there we have a life to live NOW. And an inheritance to spend NOW...God has a purpose for us an individuals and us as a church. A way for us to work with God to transform our lives, transform the lives of others, and transform our world. And our mission, our job, is to find out what that purpose is and live into it with everything we have. 

Harry Potter had parents who loved him, who had a plan for him, who provided for his future.  Once he discovered his identity, it became a way for him to be free, because he was no longer the unwanted orphan living in the Dursley house. He had a purpose and a calling, and lived into that calling with everything he had. Before we were even born, before we were even conceived, God loved us. Before our parents knew us or loved us, God knew us and loved us. Before our parents began dreaming of whose traits we would inherit and who we would grow up to be, God gave us a calling and purpose and then gave us everything we need to fulfill that purpose, to become who God is calling us to be. When we discover who we are in Christ, we experience freedom. God is asking us to share His love and join Him in transforming this world. 

The questions for me and the questions for you are...who is God calling you to be? Who is God calling us, meaning the body of Christ here at Travis Chapel/Cheriton, to be? How can we become who God is calling us to be? Once we begin asking those questions, seeking the answers, and fulfilling our calling, we will experience the freedom that we hear about it today’s scripture. Let’s find our identity. Let’s claim our inheritance. Let’s become the people that God created us to be. Let’s partner with God to transform this world. 

"Our Weakness: God's Strength": Sermon for July 8, 2012

Rev. Patti Money

Cheriton/Travis Chapel UMC

2 Corinthians 12:2-10

July 8, 2012

"Our Weakness: God's Strength"

In less than three weeks, athletes from all over the world will gather in London for the 2012 Summer Olympic Games. They represent the best of the best of their countries, and will literally “go for the gold”. For two weeks, we will be glued to our televisions to watch the competitions and the drama associated with them. 

One of my favorite aspects of each Olympiad is hearing the human interest stories of some of the athletes. It helps me see them as ordinary people with ordinary lives who simply have extraordinary abilities. And there are always the stories of athletes who have overcome incredible adversity to arrive at the Olympics. 

This week, Oscar Pistorius, a South African runner, became the first amputee to be named as a competitor in the Olympic Games. Pistorius, who has spent most of his 25 years without lower legs, will compete in London in the 400 meters (his favorite event) and the 1,600-meter relay. Born without both fibulas, the bone that runs from behind the knee to the ankle, Pistorius was 11 months old when his legs were amputated at mid-calf. He runs on two prosthetic legs, and has already won the Paralympic Games. In a few weeks, he’ll go for the gold in the regular Olympics, with all of his fellow athletes running on non-prosthetic limbs. Despite the obstacles he’s faced, he’s managed to rise above them and win...by focusing on his strengths, his athletic ability, and not on the fact that his legs are prosthetic. It’s amazing what he’s accomplished by doing that. 

       

The apostle Paul was also a person known to be extraordinary. His letters to various churches compose almost half of the New Testament. He was the most incredible and fruitful missionary in Christian history. His wisdom, his faith, and his witness were an incredible inspiration to his contemporaries, and he still inspires us today. However, Paul had his own struggle, his own weakness. We don’t know what it was; he only refers to it as “a thorn in the flesh”, a “messenger of Satan”. Maybe it was a physical ailment, maybe it was a temptation, maybe it was a tendency towards depression...whatever it was, it was apparently something that limited him in some major ways. Paul was using a figure of speech, but maybe some of you have had a literal thorn in your skin once...it hurts and it’s annoying and you really don’t feel comfortable until you get it out. That’s the sort of feeling that Paul was experiencing...he prayed for God to make his ailment disappear so it wouldn’t hamper him anymore, but that didn’t happen. He could have focused on that limitation and used it as a reason, as an excuse, to feel sorry for himself, to wallow in self-pity. 

It’s easy for us to focus on our limitations; our weaknesses, our handicaps. It’s easy for us to use them as excuses to not fulfill our potential, to not become who God has created us to be. But when we do that...we limit God and the power God has to work through us, work in spite of us, and do amazing things through us. 

That’s what Paul is talking about in this passage...that’s what God is saying to us in this passage. These characters in the Bible, even Paul, the greatest missionary of all time, were merely ordinary people who allowed God to do amazing things through them. They had their own weaknesses and sins that they struggled with. They were imperfect humans in need of God’s grace, just like us. It’s not them that we should be marveling at...it’s God. And what God can do through an ordinary person who is willing to surrender themselves and their weaknesses and let God work through them and work in spite of them. 

God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness. When we are at our weakest, when we realize that we can’t do it on our own, that is when God can do the most amazing things through us. When we stop focusing on what we CAN’T do and focus on what God can do and is doing through us...that is when God can shine His brightest through us. But, it takes a change of focus...from us and our humanity to God and God’s power. A change of focus from the weaknesses we deal with as a result of being human to the gifts God gives us and the ways that God can use those gifts to work through us to transform the world.

What is your thorn in the flesh? What are your weaknesses? What are your limitations?

Think about your church...what are the limitations, the thorns in the flesh, of our church? Of this community? 

Albert Einstein, a world-renowned physicist, is known for saying the following: “Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life feeling like a failure.” Of course. Because God hasn’t gifted and called a fish to climb a tree. A fish doesn’t have arms or legs and can’t survive for long outside the water. However, if we focus on the fish’s ability to swim, then we are amazed at the graceful way it glides through the water. 

Everyone is a genius. God has given each of us incredible gifts through which God can work through us to transform our lives and the lives of others. But if we focus on what we can’t do...if we focus on our human nature...then we will feel like a failure. However, if we focus on God and what we can do when we partner with God, when we allow God to work in us and through us...then amazing things begin to happen.  

Let’s go back to the questions I asked earlier...and put them in a different light. 

The weaknesses you thought of earlier...how have you seen God working through those? What are some ways that your struggles have made you see God clearer and allowed God to work through you? Think about your strengths. What gifts has God given you? If you’re not sure what those are, what do other people say that you’re good at? What brings you the most joy and fulfillment? How does God work through you to transform lives? 

What about this church...about this community? How can God work through or in spite of our limitations? And then think of the gifts, the specific strengths we have. If we focus more on the strengths God has given us and less on our limitations, then how could God work through us to transform lives?

When we acknowledge our own weakness and our need for God’s strength, that is when God shines the brightest through us. God calls us give our weak selves over to God, and allow Him to work through us, and work in spite of us, and transform us into the people God has called us to be, so that we can partner with God to transform the lives of others. 

God tells us “my grace is sufficient for you.” That means that the God who created us, loves us, redeemed us, and called us can work through our weaknesses, in spite of our weaknesses, and as a result show us and the world God’s strength, God’s love, and God’s perfection. The biggest question is, are we going to get out of the way and let God do it? 

"Leap of Faith: Faith of Leap": Sermon for July 1, 2012

Rev. Patti Money

Cheriton/Travis Chapel

Genesis 22:1-17

July 1, 2012

“Leap of Faith: Faith of Leap”

Many of you may be familiar with the “Indiana Jones” movies starring Harrison Ford. The first three movies were set in the 1930s and the fourth movie was set in the 1950s. Indiana Jones is an archaeology professor who winds up going on these crazy adventures where he appears to singlehandedly save priceless artifacts from the Nazis or Soviets with extremely daring moves, while also romancing beautiful women. In the movie, “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade”, Indy is on a quest to recover the Holy Grail, known to be the cup that Jesus drank from at the last supper. He’s following a series of clues that are taking him deeper into a cavern and closer to the Grail. The stakes are even higher because his father, Indiana Jones Sr, has been shot, and only liquid from the Grail will be able to cure his wound and save his life. 

One of the clues that Indiana is trying to decipher is, “only in the leap from the lion’s mouth will he prove his worth.” He emerges from a tunnel to find himself at the very edge of a precipice with a wide canyon in front of him. It’s impossible to jump it. We see him panic, then begin to think it through, until he says, “leap of faith”. He jumps out...and finds himself supported by a previously invisible bridge spanning the entire canyon. It was only by stepping out...or by leaping out...into what appeared to be empty space that Indiana was able to find a way to get across that canyon and to the Holy Grail. It took a leap of faith.

We’re all familiar with the term “leap of faith”, the  act of believing in something or someone without experience or observation or sight to back up our beliefs, and acting based on that belief. When we take a leap of faith, we are stepping into the unknown, without any assurance of the outcome…we don’t know for sure that everything will be fine or that everything will turn out OK. We simply don’t know what will happen…all we are doing is taking a leap, a step into the future, and hoping and trusting with all our heart that we are hearing God’s voice, that we are doing God’s will, and that God is holding us and taking care of us through it all. 

However, in order to take that leap, in order to step into the unknown and into the future without any assurance of the outcome, we need to first have faith. We need to have a solid enough relationship with God that we know how to recognize God’s voice and have the faith and strength to trust that God will take care of us. We need to have the confidence to, as a friend and mentor of mine keeps telling me, “do what God tells you to do and let the chips fall where they may.” In other words, before we take that leap of faith...we need to first have enough faith for the leap. We have to have enough faith that we can follow God’s voice even when what God is asking us to do just doesn’t make a lot of sense. Taking a leap of faith first requires faith for the leap. 

If you’ve spent much time in the church, you’ve heard the story of Abraham many many times. Abraham and his wife Sarah were “very elderly”, to put it gently. They did not have children, and were way way past their childbearing years. But, God promised them a son…and promised Abraham that he would be fruitful, that he would be a father to many nations, that he would be blessed. And in time, Abraham and Sarah did have a son, and they named him Isaac. He was their joy, their hope, and their future. Isaac was the way that God would fulfill God’s promise to Abraham to be a father of many nations. It all hinged on Isaac. 

But then God spoke to Abraham and asked the unthinkable: he told Abraham to give Isaac up; to take him to the land of Moriah, to offer him as a burnt offering, as a sacrifice to God. And amazingly enough, Abraham followed God’s instructions...although God intervened before Abraham could actually kill Isaac. 

God asked Abraham to give up the one thing, the one person, whose existence was instrumental in defining Abraham’s future…the one person through whom God would fulfill God’s promises to Abraham. It just didn’t make sense. 

Imagine how Abraham felt…scared, angry, confused, hurt…, maybe he had had a big fight with Sarah about this whole thing, or maybe he hadn’t told her and was waiting to tell her when he returned without Isaac...but in spite of it all he obeyed God’s voice. He trusted God with the thing, the person, he valued most in this world…with the biggest blessing of his life. He was able to do that, he was able to make that leap of faith, because of the strength of his faith. Because of the relationship with God that he had grown and cultivated over the years. Abraham knew God’s voice and was willing to do what God told him to do, even when it appeared that he was giving up his future to do so. Abraham was willing to give God what was most important to him.

Think about what you value most in this world…who or what you would be most reluctant to give up forever. Think about what in your life gives you the most confidence for the future. Be honest, because this is just between you and God. Maybe it’s material possessions…your house, your pension, your bank account. Maybe it’s your family…your spouse, your kids, your parents. Maybe it’s your career or hobby…whatever brings you joy, fulfillment, and makes you feel useful. It’s different for all of us. 

Think about what you value most about your church...what it is about this church that makes you feel the most secure, that gives you assurance for the future.  This is just between you and God. Again, it’s going to be different for each church and each person. For some people it’s a particular ministry in which they are involved. For others it’s the building itself. Or maybe it’s the pastor, or the service format. What aspect of this church would you have the hardest time giving up? 

We tend to elevate Biblical characters to a rather unrealistic level…like they were so much better than us. The reality is, they’re just like us…sinners in need of God’s love and grace, ordinary people who allowed God to work through them to do extraordinary things. Abraham is no exception. He was not superhuman: he just had a deep relationship with God and strong faith that was the result of that relationship. Abraham was able to take a gigantic leap of faith because he had enough faith to make the leap. 

We are all in the process of making a leap of faith, with hopefully more leaps to come. You made a leap of faith by embracing change and accepting a new pastor, whom you know nothing about, to lead you into the future. I imagine that transition has been full of emotion...because you’re stepping into the unknown. I made a leap of faith by becoming a pastor again, for the first time in four years, by going back to full-time employment for the first time in three years, and by moving myself and my family here to the Eastern Shore. We made these leaps of faith based on what we heard God telling us to do. We made these leaps because we had faith that God would take care of us. And I don’t know about you, but I’m beginning to see confirmation that my leap of faith was indeed the right thing to do. 

At the last possible moment, as Abraham’s knife was poised over his son, God intervened, spared Isaac’s life, and provided an alternate sacrifice for Abraham. Isaac grew up, got married, had children...and you know the rest of the story. From Abraham and Isaac grew the nation of Israel, God’s chosen people. And thousands of years after Abraham’s leap of faith, God sent his own son, Jesus, down here to be born, to live among us, to show us God’s love and God’s plans for us...and ultimately to die for us and be raised from the dead on the third day. God spared Abraham’s son, but God sacrificed his own son so that we could have our sins forgiven and experience a deeper relationship with God than any of the Old Testament characters did. 

Through Jesus, we have experienced God’s love, God’s grace, and God’s power to make all things new in ways that Abraham could only dream of. We have an access to God that Abraham never did, and as a result our potential in partnering with God to change the world is greater than that of Abraham. 

God is in the business of making all things new...God is in the business of transforming us from who we are and who we have become to who God wants us to be. In order for that to happen, we have to trust God with everything we have. We have to have faith in God, faith that God will take care of us, and even faith in ourselves and in our relationship with God, so that we know that we are indeed hearing God’s voice. It’s hard, but it’s very worth it. Madeleine L’Engle, the author of A Wrinkle in Time and many other books, is a Christian and once said this, “We have to be braver than we think we can be, because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are.” 

In order to make leaps of faith...in order to be braver than we think we can be...we need to have put our faith and hope and trust in the God who created us, who loves us, who always fulfills his promises to us. We need to have faith in the God who spared Abraham’s son but gave up his own so that we may experience God’s love and grace in amazing ways and have new life as a result. So that with God’s help, we can answer God’s call to be more than we are now, and become who God is calling us to be. 

Travis Chapel/Cheriton, we’ve made separate leaps of faith to arrive at today, the beginning of our journey in ministry together. Let’s continue to deepen our faith in God and in each other, so that we can boldly take leaps of faith and become who God is calling us to be, as individuals and as a community of faith. 

Sermon for June 17: "Open Your Hearts"

Yesterday was my last Sunday at Oak Grove. I haven't been on staff there, but I've been part of that community for almost three years, and it has become so incredibly special to me. I preached at both services, since Randy's last Sunday was last week, and he's enjoying well-deserved vacation time before beginning his new ministry at Courthouse Community UMC. The sermon I preached is below, after the "jump". Feedback is always welcome.

Loved, Embraced, Challenged...and Going Forth

Opening my heart, only to have it broken again. -a thought I wrote during worship last year

Whenever you have an encounter with God, you are different. -Randy McMillen (during a sermon sometime in the last year)

Today's sermon made me cry. Actually, weep is a better term, because I was crying so hard that I had to grab the entire box of tissues on the table in the back of the worship space. It's the fifteenth time in as many months that Randy's sermon has made me cry, and the fifth time I've actually wept during the sermon. Not that I'm counting or anything.

I think it's become sort of a joke at OG...or at least among the people who know me well there...that Patti cries during Randy's sermons. The word is definitely "out" after today, because about ten people came up to me after the service, hugged me, and asked me what was wrong. I then told them why I was crying. I can understand why people are taken aback when I cry so readily at Randy's sermons...because I've never been a "cry during worship" person, and not a lot of people are. But then, I've never experienced God so powerfully anywhere else.

I have written about my awful, no good, very bad experience in my first appointment (look at the label "Danville-gate" for those posts). I have shared parts of it with many people at Oak Grove, and Randy knows most of the whole sordid tale. It was devastating, and two of the worst after-effects were that my relationship with God was damaged, and so was my sense of self-worth...I often entertained thoughts of turning in my ministerial credentials (the nifty sheet of paper that lets me act in the capacity of a pastor, according to the United Methodist Church), because I no longer had any passion for ministry or sense of calling.

After going around to various churches, my family began attending OG in 2009, because it had a great contemporary service. For over a year, my worship attendance and participation were purely out of habit. Over time, my heart began to heal, mostly because I began to experience the people of OG loving and embracing my family and me. Little things that said, "I care" kept chipping away at my hardened and broken heart, because I was experiencing the church (the people of God) being the church (the chosen vehicle to bringing God's hope and healing to a broken world and broken people). Eventually, I got to a point where I was willing to really engage in and commit to the body of Christ again, so we joined OG and began financially supporting a congregation for the first time in three years.

That's when I began really listening to Randy's sermons, and when God began speaking to me in a very powerful way. I was reminded of Whose I am (a child of God, a person of worth) and who I am and who God is calling me to be (a pastor). I made the commitment to go back under appointment (to be a pastor), and began seeking out opportunities to serve God, to serve God's people, and to use my gifts for ministry. 

Over the past year, God has transformed me, reminded me of gifts that I had forgotten, and shown me new gifts that I didn't know I possessed. God has given me the strength and love to open my heart and reach out to others, and renewed my passion for ministry and my heart for God's people. And that has all taken place in the context of Oak Grove United Methodist Church, in the midst of this wonderful (yet far far from perfect) congregation. For that I will be forever grateful. 

Today's worship experience, and particularly the sermon, reminded me powerfully of two things: first, it reminded me of all that God has done and is doing through OG to touch my life and the lives of others. Second, it reminded me that in a few months I will have to leave OG, and how painful that leaving will be. My heart, which God softened and opened wide, will once again be broken by having to leave people and a church that I love...a church whose vision resonates in the deepest part of who I am, as a person and as I pastor.

I would love to be able to stay at OG...to continue to be a part of what God is doing here. However, because of all that God has done and is doing at OG and in my life, I am changed. I am becoming who God has called me to be, and that involves becoming a pastor again, and having my own congregation to lead and my own congregation with which to dream. So, some Sunday in June, you will see me weeping during, after, and possibly even before, worship. And it may be because Randy's sermon has (in the words of a friend) "touched me for the 32 millionth time". However, it will most likely be because my heart will be breaking over the thought of leaving a pastor and congregation with whom and through whom I have experienced God so powerfully, and whose loving, embracing and challenging have helped me rediscover my true worth, rediscover my calling, and reveal the pastor who God is calling me to be. When I re-enter the pulpit on July 1, 2012, I will not be the same pastor I was in July 2006. Nor will I be the same pastor I was in May 2008, when I left full-time ministry. I have been changed and transformed because of the ways that God has worked and is working through the people of Oak Grove United Methodist Church.

So, people of Oak Grove, keep loving. Keep embracing. Keep challenging. Keep stepping out in faith and following God's vision, because God has done, and is doing, amazing things at Oak Grove. I, and so many others, are proof of it.