photo by Chris Sharp

November 1, All Saints Day in the church is a time of remembering and giving thanks.  It is a time when we remember the “saints” who have come before us and influenced us.  And, just to be clear, I’m using that word to refer to all believers.  That means, that all people who seek to live Christian lives are saints.  Yep, that’s right.  “Saints’ are not perfect or without personal history that might have caused some raised eyebrows.  Saints don’t have to work miracles or be famous.  Saints are everyday people like you and me who believe and try to live that faith out from day to day.

They don’t even have to be dead—though “All Saints Day” in churches frequently focuses on the people in the community who have passed away.  So, on this All Saints Day, I want to ask you: Who are the saints that you would like to remember—living or dead?  Who are the people who have influenced your faith in a positive way by how they live their lives?

Most of us have many.  I do too.  But I’d like to tell you about one of them:

One of the first saints who influenced my life, was my grandmother (on my mother’s side), known to us as Nanny.   My parents went to church occasionally.  But Nanny went every week.  My parents usually took me to Sunday school.  But if I wanted to go to church,  I usually went with Nanny.  I loved sitting next to her during worship.  It just felt like a good safe place.  When the other adults wanted me to leave the “grown-up” service, and go to Junior Church, and I didn’t want to go, she was the one who told them to leave me alone, that I was quiet and listened, and if I wanted to stay I could.

Nanny would have been the first person to say she wasn’t perfect.  She could be a bit stubborn.  And her language became rather loud and colorful when she was watching wrestling matches on TV on Saturday.  Like any of us, she had a list of faults and failures.

But Nanny taught me what it meant to be real, and loving.  She taught me to about strength and faith.  She said the same prayer, every time we sat down to a meal: “Bless O Lord, this food to thy use, and us to thy service.  And make us ever mindful of the needs of others.  In Jesus Name. Amen.”  That prayer taught me so much about what it meant to live a life of faith.

When I announced as a young adult that I was going to seminary, not everyone understood or approved.  But Nanny did.  I give thanks for the influence that she had over my life and the lives of others.

Who are the saints that you give thanks for?  Who are the people who have shone the light of God’s love into your life?  Please let us know by leaving a comment about someone who has influenced your life.

Blessings, Kim

I have been thinking about names lately.  So, I took advantage of an opportunity for fun Google exploration, and found that a search on “hipster baby names” turns up such gems as Fifi, Jupiter and Nix.  Really? Nix?

An online dictionary search came up with 11 different definitions of names for the noun, 9 for the verb and 3 for the adjective.  Conclusion: names are complex and important. And, perhaps, should not depend only on parents who want to be cool.

Names say things about the one who names and the one who is named. Names speak of character, and relationship.  They can hurt or help one’s reputation.  They can proclaim condemnation or redemption, disdain or honor.

So, in Exodus, when a flaming bush that wasn’t burning up, catches Moses’ attention, a Voice seemingly from the bush, calls him by name: “Moses, Moses.” Not “Hey, you.” Not “Mr. Shepherd.” And, definitely not “Nix.”  The Voice that is speaking knows Moses, and has a specific calling for a specific person.  When Moses asks the name of this Voice, the answer comes back: “I Am Who I Am.” The other way the Voice self-identifies is as “the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.”

The Voice will not to be pinned down or placed in a box.  The Voice will be characterized by relationship, but not by the power of one name.  The Voice is mysterious in some ways and intimate in others.

So, what do you call the Voice, this mysterious yet intimate One who calls us?  The Wordle graphic above is filled with different names and images but there are so many more. I find that the more images and names I use for God, the more it broadens both my sense of the greatness of God, and also my sense of who God calls me to be. Which brings us to the next question: What does the Voice call you?

I have heard people say that God doesn’t speak to people these days like God did in the days of Moses. Actually, I think that sounds like another box in which we try to contain God. .  And” I Am Who I Am” doesn’t do boxes.  So, take some moments this week, speak to “I Am Who I Am” and see what happens.

As always, I invite you to leave comments.  This week, I would especially like to know what images and names for God are meaningful for you.

Peace,

Kim

Note: For additional reading on this topic, go to Brian McLaren’s “Naked Spirituality.”

I have been intrigued for some time now by the growing number of people who are willing to identify themselves as spiritual but not religious, even those who are involved in faith communities of some sort. But, I will say that, even though I am a pastor, I tend to think that way. Identifying myself as “religious” draws people’s attention to the form of faith, but not the substance, not the relationship and connection to which I am devoted. Too often, identifying myself as religious, tends to build walls, rather than open lines of communication. Brian McClaren talks about this issue similarly in his book “Naked Spirituality,” comparing religion to the dressing that is put on our relationship with God.  But he offers some ways for us to get beneath the fancy wardrobe with simple words and prayers that can help us form authentic, substantive relationships with God.

One of those simple words is “here.”  The passage that we looked at in Scripture was Genesis 28:, where Jacob experiences a vision of a ladder with steps to and from heaven.  His response is “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I didn’t know it.”  So much of the time, if we think of God, we think of a being above us or distant from us.  We might think of God as affecting our future, but our daily lives? But God is here, now, reaching out to us, being present to us.

I want to invite you to do something that we did last week in our worship service. It’s simple:

Take a few moments at least once a day and say or write: “I am here.” You might want to spend to take a moment to be clear about what you are feeling or experiencing: “I am tired, or worried, or happy or preoccupied with studies.”  Whatever honestly describes where you are at the moment.

Then, simply think “You (or however you would address God” are here.”  Allow yourself to feel that presence.  Do it on campus, walking down the street, when you are at a party.  God is all of those places. And we don’t notice it!   Pay attention to how that affects you.  And, if you will, please share about it, by leaving a comment here.

God is here, now.  And that can change how we experience each day.  Here. Now. Really.

blessings,

Kim

Chicago at Night by Audrey Krumbach

(Excerpt from sermon offered by Intern Rachel during 9/14 worship)

My favorite thing about the city of Chicago is the skyscrapers. These steel ladies seem to be reaching up to heaven. These women stand tall, blocking out the sun, the wind, and world from view. Those marvelous buildings elicit awe in my soul as I walk between them or look up the side of them leaning back so far that I almost tip over struggling to see the top. A whole new world was created as cities grew up and not out; because of them so much more was able to fit into the same amount of space. Inside each building is a whole new city of sorts, made up of food courts, offices, and gyms.  As a child whenever I drove home from a road trip and caught the first sight of the skyscrapers peaking over the horizon, then at that moment, I knew I was almost home. I would allow myself to imagine my own bed, and the good night sleep that was about to come. As a teenager I spend many afternoons wandering with friends among these buildings after school, because nestled between them in the downtown was my high school.

Three large buildings, with entirely glass exteriors and large open organic spaces resembling a warehouse, was my high school. I was contained in a large cafeteria made of glass chatting with friends waiting for the first period of my class day to begin,  when a security guard rushed into the room. He was an older white man, chubby and not typically known to rush anywhere.  He headed directly to the TV screens, small devices located at the north and south walls of the cafeteria.  He then began to yell for our attention.  Slowly the chattering stopped, but there were grumbles of what could be so important. He wanted us to watch the TV; that is when we saw the instant replay of New York city and a plane hitting the twin towers.  An airplane directly hit one of those beautiful skyscraper ladies, a sister to the ladies standing around our glass buildings.

Read Joshua 20:1-9

At church that Sunday following “9/11” we gathered with a mix of joy and solemn fear. Joy because our Pakistani congregation was bringing new people into membership.  There was decorations and catered dinner for the service. It is hard not to be joyful with the smell of curry, chicken masala, and biryani; and the bright colors of the women’s saris and a gathering of all the church family.  As people parked their cars and began to mill into the church, an Asian American church in a White neighborhood, cars passing by slowed, and eyes watched our gathering with suspicion and wonder. It was if all the building on the street had eyes glued on us. Suddenly a racial slur came from someone walking by accompanied with those disdainful, distrusting eyes.

We sang hymns of praise, and prayed to God for the joy of new members, immigrants from Pakistan,while each silence in our hearts echoed the racial slur, and flashed pictures of blood.

In the days that followed,  incidents of hate crimes, and anger and mistrust directed at persons perceived to be Middle Eastern or Arab would grow. This filled the streets of our city with the heat of blood, tears and fear to leave one’s home.  Our skyscrapers remained intact, continuing to reach for the sky, standing tall with pride, and preserved by no fly zones.

Read Joshua 20:1-9

In September 2001 in Sacramento California in if you wondered into a special Muslim School you would have found the windows decorated with thousand paper cranes. A Thousand pieces of paper, of different colors, varied designs, each a sign of hope and solidarity. The Japanese American community sent those cranes with a note about Pearl Harbor, their internment experience. Anger and fear built desert cities out of fair grounds and horse tracks for the Japanese Americans to inhabit as the country thought and suspected them  of aiding the Japanese country who had bombed U.S. ships.   The Japanese people in Sacramento responded to their memory not with hate, but with building a thousand paper cranes, a thousand prayers, a thousand signs of peace for the world.

Spaces of peace continue to be built by other actions of solidarity. This past Sunday people gathered from synagogues, churches, mosques, or of no faith home at all, to join the 9/11 Unity walk. This motley group of people engaged in services of remembrance and interfaith education. As people cooperate we build new cities and new spaces for each other to enter into; we live in a new way. I can see the floors of the new skyscraper going up.  The building started the day the Japanese people sent the Muslin school thousand cranes, and it continues with events like the 9/11 unity walk in DC.

The tallest building in Chicago for a number of years during the last century was the United Methodist Chicago temple, with a chapel in the sky.  High above the city a place of worship brings people hope and rest.  Imagine looking out the windows of that chapel onto the city streets below, being so close to the sky you can touch it. What a new view of the city, what a new perspective on the world you gain in that moment. Imagine. What new city will you see, what will you try to build?

Imagine communion in that chapel, and Jesus there to offer it? What do you feel as you know all are welcome at the table? What if in line next to you was a murderer? What if it was someone that had harmed you? Can you still partake of the feast?

Atop this building we build a new city with new people, with Jesus who stands before us as a city of refuge.  Jesus: one who died for us, one who came to teach us, who forgives us, and waits for us, and watches over us. Christ is our city of refuge sent by God.  As the light shines in on us we can feel newness of life already being built. The building and cities of our making will never be as great as what God is building or has built in our hearts.

Written by Rachel Birkhahn-Rommelfanger, Assistant Campus Minister.

I have always loved questions–the ones that make me think, or the ones that help me move toward knowing a person or a subject more fully.

But, when I talk about loving questions in connection with issues of faith, it tends to surprise people. So, I have a question for you? Which is a better tool for getting to know someone–questions, or answers?

Questions help us to learn about others.  Some of them bring short answers, like “How old are you?” But the best ones may bring out stories, and opinions, and take us with the person to places we hadn’t expected to go.

We frequently assume that being faithful means that we won’t have questions, or at least won’t ask them.  Many of us associate faith with a list of answers. Sometimes in faith communities, we even begin to shut people out, if they don’t believe the same list of answers that we do.

Another question:  if we are called to have answers, why did Jesus teach so much with questions and stories? And many of those stories and teachings didn’t leave people with a lot of clear, pat answers.   Perhaps Jesus was offering more than answers, or a list of beliefs.  Perhaps he was inviting the people around him into relationship, with him and with one another.

When you want to deepen a relationship with another person, most of us know that giving them a list of things we believe or answers we’ve found doesn’t lead us to finding out very much about who they are.  And if we did that, we would likely put ourselves in the position of spending time with people who are just like us.  Being with people who are just like us may be easier, but it doesn’t help us grow.  And when it comes to developing a relationship with God, we  a lot when we are not willing to ask the questions of God that might deepen the relationship.  So asking questions about God or faith, or the church, doesn’t necessarily mean we’re losing our faith.  It may mean we are leaning into it.  Are we willing to go to places we hadn’t expected, to see things in new ways (there I go again!)? I believe that it is when we engage in relationship with God, through prayer, scripture, community, and yes, in questions, that we become more able to hear God’s call in our lives.

Are there questions you have that you would like to share–not necessarily to find definitive answers, but, to open conversations with others in the faith community, even with God? If so I hope you’ll share them here, by leaving a question in the “comments” section.  Whenever we open the conversations about faith with respect and attentiveness, if we pay close attention, we just might hear the Spirit speaking!

Blessings,

Kim

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