Rogue Reverend

Cultivating Gratitude: Creativity

Today was one of THOSE days. A Monday of the First Order. Everything I touched, broke. Everything I tried to complete took 15 steps more than it should.

Case in point, I went to print labels from the post office web site, which required me to create an account, which I didn’t really need because we already had one, but when I went to reset the password (which we couldn’t remember) on the old account, I accidentally reset the password on the new account, which meant I had to go to another email account to figure out how, and anyway, it took me an hour to figure out the labels, and I finally got them. Then guess what? I ran out of printer ink.

So a trip to Staples, and I put in the black ink. Reprint.

You thought it was going to be easy? Wrong! Color ink out, too, so it didn’t work. Luckily, I had gotten a color cartridge.

Yep, that kind of day.

When everything you do requires a little creativity.

And I’ve got it. And I’m grateful.

Now, if I can just actually get something done tomorrow…

Cultivating Gratitude: Money

One of my favorite assignments to give my pastoral counseling and spiritual direction clients, and even some of my coaching clients, is to keep a gratitude journal. I ask them to write down three things about which they are grateful, especially pertaining to their situations. So, if you’re frustrated with your spouse, write down three things each day that you are grateful for around them. Or, if you’re frustrated with you job, same thing: three things about your job that make you thankful.

Given that I love my job. And I love my home. And my friends and special people. What am I most unsatisfied with in my life?

You guessed it. Money.

So here’s my grateful list for this Sunday, and the topic is money.

I have never gone hungry, and always seem to have enough.

Waiting for luxury items makes me more appreciative when I get them.

I have a new pair of tennis shoes in my very near future!

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Preach Christ, a sermon

A couple of weeks ago, I was stressing about this sermon, wondering what to preach on next, and walking around the track. I heard a word. Don’t think I’m crazy, but it just came to me, in the voice of my preaching professor, Robert L. Smith. “Preach Christ.”

Preach Christ? What does that mean?

I have to tell you a little about Dr. Smith. He’s a large black man, a preacher who hoops (which means that he gets a certain cadence to his voice, a sing-song-like rhythm), who sings amazing songs at the end of sermons. His voice is deep, like James Earl Jones.

And he said, “Preach Christ.”

Preach Christ? What does that mean?

I heard his voice. “It means Christ crucified.” Christ crucified? What is that? Why does that matter? “Because it’s Christ resurrected.” Ah, the resurrection. Now what difference does that make? And then I hear Dr. Smith. “It means Christ is alive.”

So, today, I’m going to preach Christ. More »

I Pay More, Because I’m Poor

One of the most difficult things about poverty is that the poor pay more than the rich for services and merchandise. For example, groceries in a bad neighborhood are usually more expensive than groceries in a good neighborhood. Poor people pay more in bank fees, insurance, food, gas, deposits for utilities, and many other things.

Why is it this way?

First, because the poor have very little time. Picketing a grocery store for being more expensive is a great idea, but who of the poor can afford to take the time off of work to do it? Driving to the other side of town? Hard to do when you are counting pennies for gasoline.

Second, because poor folks don’t know that they can ask questions and that they have rights. I know it’s not always true now, but it used to be true that you could get your bank to waive overdraft fees. If you made a mistake on your checking account, and weren’t habitual, you could ask, and they’d waive them. Because that’s pure profit for the bank, and their managers had that option. Do poor people know that? Nope. Young people don’t either. So who pays overdraft fees? The poor and the young. In other words, those who don’t have the money.

Third, because they live in smaller spaces. It’s one thing to go to a big box store and stock up on tons of stuff, but most poor people live in smaller spaces and don’t have the room to put huge boxes of cereal. Then stuff goes to waste.

Fourth, saving money takes an investment. Back to the box stores: a stick of deodorant is about $2 in a drug store. It’s about $6.5 for 6 sticks at a big box store. Spending the money NOW becomes an issue of having more money NOW to save money in the long run. Most poor people don’t have the extra money now.

Fifth, life becomes about robbing Peter to pay Paul. Poor people figure, “I won’t pay my phone bill until next week so that I can pay for some food today.” Bam! Down the credit rating goes. Bam! Up the credit card rate goes. Bam! Up the insurance rate goes.

It’s a vicious cycle.

And until some people besides poor people start caring about the injustice in the system, it probably won’t change. Because, really, it’s possible that the rich think, “Well, I work hard, I should pay less money for things.” Like health care. Is it possible that people think, “They don’t deserve health care?”

The Bible makes it clear that God cares about the poor. Shall we keep oppressing them?

It Was All Saints’ Day

Yesterday, November 1, was All Saints’ Day. We celebrated at Richmond Mennonite Fellowship by bringing a memento of one of our Saints to the service.

The sermon was rather different (surprise, surprise!), and I quoted from one Ted talk by Sir Ken Robinson, starting at minute 15.09. Robinson tells the story of Gillian Lynne, a choreographer whose grade school teachers (in the 1930’s) thought that she had a learning disorder. Gillian’s mother took her to a doctor, who listened to the symptoms, and asked Mrs. Lynne to talk with him privately. Instead of talking, they turned to watch Gillian, who got up to dance to a radio that was on in the room.

“Gillian isn’t sick,” the doctor said, “she’s a dancer.” Gillian’s mother took her to dance class, where Gillian proclaims, “We walked into this room and it was full of people like me. People who couldn’t sit still. People who had to move to think.”

I believe the church should be like the doctor: noticing. And like the mother: fostering passion.

Then we listened to 5 minutes of another Ted talk. Eve Ensler spoke on happiness. Go to minute 15:41. Really. Go listen. I’ll wait.

Eve says that the Vagina Monologues “has taught me this really simple thing, which is that happiness exists in action, it exists in telling the truth and saying what your truth is, and it exists in giving away what you want the most.”

We have to work to identify our passion, the thing we want the most, that we have to give away.

We then talked about our saints. sharing our mementos, and thinking about them, “What was the thing they gave away?”

I talked about my saint, Barbara Watts, during this time. The memento I shared was a hymnal from Southside Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, and hymn number 398, “In the Garden.” Barbara sang this favorite hymn at my ordination.

The refrain is, “And he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own; and the joy we share, as we tary there, none other have ever known.” Sure, it’s bad theology, but it’s one of my favorites.

Barbara’s gift, her passion, was attention. She paid attention to all the people she loved in such a complete way: cards, letters, calls. Remembrances, birthday wishes, gifts, Barbara paid attention. I’m so grateful for her model in my love, and for being the object of some of that love.

After sharing our saints, without a dry eye in sight, we shared communion. We communed with our saints who are gone, but also with those who will someday consider us saints. What would be the passion they would see?

Jesus took the wine and the bread, very common elements, and made them holy. The saints in our lives, who were very human, shed the light of sacredness in our lives. How would we do the same in others’ lives?