What the Promise is For
February 22, 2015
Christ Church Episcopal, Norcross, GA
The 1st Sunday in Lent
Genesis 9:8-17; 1 Peter 3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15
Today’s Old Testament lesson is the very end of the story of Noah and the ark. Y’all remember Noah – he was a righteous person, chosen by God to build an ark. And, in spite of the ridicule he surely received from those around him, he built a HUGE floating barn, and then gathered up all the species of animals, two-by-two, and loaded them into the ark.
He must’ve looked like a fool, but for him, he was being obedient to God, even if it didn’t make much sense – that’s what made him righteous. Then, you remember what happens next, it started to rain… and it rained, and rained… and NOW who looked foolish? Not Noah!
He and his family boarded the ark with all the animals and the story says that it rained for 40 days and 40 nights until water covered the whole earth; as far as they could see. After the rain stopped, they floated around awhile as the water receded and the ark was finally resting on solid ground. Noah, his family and the animals were once again on dry land, and when it was all over God made a promise: Read the rest of this entry »
The Gospel according to Huckleberry Finn
January 11, 2015
Christ Church Episcopal, Norcross, GA
The 1st Sunday after Epiphany
Genesis 1:1-5; Acts 19:1-7; Mark 1:4-11
After the worship service on Christmas morning, Alice and I headed to Hilton Head for a few days of R&R. We stayed at a hotel with a beachfront view, and each morning as I awoke, I could see the thin glimmer of day breaking, as color peeked above the ocean waters. I was drawn to it. Each day I welcomed the gradual emergence of a new day; of God’s creation.
That first morning at the beach, I began reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. You know Huck, he’s Tom Sawyer’s good friend; the one who traveled down the Mississippi River on a raft alongside a runaway slave named Jim. I’ve always loved Mark Twain’s humor and the way he captures the full picture of life, both glistening and gritty. Through his stories he brings to light the truth of real-life experiences. Read the rest of this entry »
Pursuing Your Purpose
January 6, 2015
Christ Church Episcopal, Norcross, GA
The Feast of Epiphany
Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12; Matthew 2:1-12
When I was a young girl I looked forward to the Epiphany service at my church each year. Like tonight, it began after the night sky had become dark. As we arrived, we were each given candles, cre
ating a dimly lit sanctuary. The opening hymn was “We Three Kings.” The congregation sang the first and last verse, and male soloists from the choir sang the middle verses. Each king sang their arrival, walking ever-so-slowly up the long-center aisle; each dressed in finery of a far-off-land; each carrying a gift brought for the God-child they had searched out. The smell of the frankincense filled the sanctuary – creating a full-on sensory experience.
For completely different reasons, this evening’s service, with bi-lingual scripture, prayers and music, is just as glorious; just as life-giving. This time tonight represents a manifestation of experiencing the beauty of a new born thing, worthy of The Epiphany! It is a time of letting go of what is common place, of the status quo, which isn’t always easy. Read the rest of this entry »
Called to Re-formation
November 30, 2014
Christ Church Episcopal, Norcross, GA
Advent 1– RCL Year B
Isaiah 61:1-9; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Mark 13:24-37
“Let me borrow your skin?” I want to ask the friend who writes through hot tears on the morning bus.
Because they say to walk a mile in a man’s shoes if you really want to know his life.
But I know today that shoes that slip on and off with will are not enough for me to know what I need to know.
I need you to loan me your skin, because maybe inside it I will find my way to the knowing I need.
Maybe in your skin I will grow to understand the pain that boils to hot anger in your blood.
And maybe in your skin I can stand outside my own privilege long enough to know-in the truth of your life and your story.
If I could borrow your dark eyes then maybe I could see your son’s future through the storm of fear that brews inside you.
Loan me your skin so I can find the words to explain the scars that mark your life?
If I could speak in the rasping hoarseness of your voice so long unheard maybe I would feel the urge to shout with you.
If I could sing the slave’s songs with my grandmother’s memories pulsing in their harmonies then maybe I would feel the fullness of their soulful wails.
Let me borrow your skin so I can trace the scars of sideways glances and cold, hard stares of intimidation?
If I could finger your hair atop my head, during the silent shifting on the bus in the seat where I have the right to sit but not the welcome–
Let me borrow your skin so I can find the courage to bear the offense taken when I speak about the life you live in it.
I never ask it and she doesn’t have to answer for me to know what has always been true.
There is no way out for her of the skin she lives in and no way far enough in for me to truly know.
What we have to share is this – that I slide in close and lace my pale fingers through hers,
Embrace, leaning in to one another, and hear our hearts beat the same
drum
drum
drumming
of redemption’s song.
Tuesday morning began for me with heaviness of heart, having heard about the Ferguson grand jury verdict the night before. I knew that my Facebook page would be filled with anger, sadness, confusion and frustration, and it was. Then, later in the day, this poem, written by Colleen Mitchell, came across my News Feed – she had written it that morning. Read the rest of this entry »
I never ask it and she doesn’t have to answer for me to know what has always been true.