Ode to Mom

My mom has good reason to be nervous on Mother's Day. That's because probably 75% of the Mother's Day gifts she has received from her children have been the types of gifts that few other moms receive. I've heard that many children give their mothers things like flowers, money, chocolates and jewelry. My mom was much luckier.

There was the series of two or three years where Brian, Sarah and I made videos for her. We'd get out the video camera and put together something hillarious. There was that one time when we reenacted on video footage of our births. (Of course there was no such thing as home video cameras when I was born, but that's another story...) The images of us prentending to be my mom giving birth to our cat, Ranger, who bit the dust this past winter, still haunt all who saw them. There's the video we made of our parents' wedding where I wore one of Dad's sport coats and held a mop with a veil on it while Brian married us. I think he said something like "in hickness and sealth as long as you both shall live," if I remember correctly. We put together some elaborate set-ups where I pretended to be the host of a tv show and sat next to our tv where we had another video playing that we had made. It was pretty high tech for a bunch of elementary school kids. I just remember that we always made Mom cry when we gave these videos to her. I think the tears came from laughing so hard, but they probably were also the result of thoughts like "why did my kids turn out this way?"

There were also the times where our Mother's Day gifts came from shopping sprees at Big Lots or the Dollar General. We would usually load up and go to the dollar store in the worst area of town where the items were sure to be the junkiest and load her up with an assortment of strange items. One year we gave her a huge gift basket with probably 25 individually wrapped items such as a strange looking jar of peas and carrots, a cake mix printed in German, a video of firey car crashes, wrestling figurine toys, and a huge dented can of fruit cocktail. We also got her a plastic chicken (named _________, the chicken of love and happiness--does anybody remember her name?) that she embarrased us with by putting plastic flowers in it and putting it on our front porch.

Cheryl Moles. What a lucky woman.

I was hungry and you did not feed me…in prison and you did not visit me…

While walking up the sidewalk leading into Holy Name Church in East Nashville the other night, a homeless man who recognized me from working at the Campus asked me if I knew where he could find dinner that night since he got off work too late to get into the Mission. Though I knew there was probably nobody left serving dinner to the homeless at almost 7:00pm, I felt a little bad that I didn’t know who else served dinner other than the Mission on Tuesday nights, and that I am not a great humanitarian like our site coordinator Susan who would have had a “Where to Find Help in Nashville” brochure and a granola bar handy.

Inside, people were gathering for an evening service of prayer for and solidarity with a man convicted of killing a Memphis police officer over 25 years ago. It was Philip Workman’s final night; he was executed at 1:38 a.m. that night at the Riverbend Maximum Security Prison in West Nashville. I was invited by Stacy Rector, our former associate pastor at Second who is now the executive director of TCASK (Tennessee Coalition to Abolish State Killing), to play the piano for the service at Holy Name. There were about sixty people present whose faith calls them to oppose killing by the state. I recognized many people among those assembled as Second members, volunteers and staff from the Campus and others I’ve seen at similar events.

The second preacher for the night, following Stacy, was Rev. Victor Singletary from First Baptist Church-Capitol Hill. I only knew of that church because they are on the list of places where people can go to get clothing if they need it. His message was a direct challenge to the Christian majority in our culture that is virtually silent on he types of social issues about which Jesus spoke. He talked about a woman from his own church who had received an email from him earlier in the week with an action alert from TCASK and an invitation to the prayer service on the eve of the Workman execution. She called the church the next day asking that her name be removed from the email list that sent messages like that, but she did request that she continue to receive notices about upcoming church events, teas, and social events. The woman from Rev. Singletary’s church is just one part of our broken Christian culture that has no use for the least of these among us. The call of the church is to become like Christ, who always used his voice to speak for those who were not allowed to use theirs. As Matthew 25 states, it is our duty to, together as the church, feed the hungry, quench the tongues of those who thirst, welcome strangers, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit those in prison. We are to pray for our enemies, rather than kill them, which was the message recently in a popular Terre Haute church. Christians have failed to vocally oppose war, the death penalty, and reforms of welfare that left many poor families to fend for themselves. It is our calling to not remain silent.

I don’t know whether or not Philip Workman killed a police officer. Even if he did, how does his life not fall under the category of being precious in the sight of God? Loving our enemies sometimes means siding with those who have done horrifying things.

In a strange twist to the end of Philip Workman’s story, the homeless ended up having more to eat that night. Workman requested for his last meal to be a vegetarian pizza delivered to a homeless person. Though the prison system denied that request, other people from around the country ordered hundreds of pizzas in Philip Workman’s name and had them delivered to places like the Nashville Rescue Mission and the Oasis Center. Even from our culture’s group mentality of vengeance and death can come mercy and food for the sustenance of life.

Related Links:

Tennessee Coalition to Abolish State Killing

CNN: Executed man's last request honored -- pizza for the homeless

"Teach me some melodious sonnet..."

This morning’s worship at Second Pres. was one of the most moving worship experiences I have been a part of. It was the result of a Sunday School class that was one of the most popular at Second this past spring: “Music and Religious Identity at Second.” The class was taught by John McClure, a professor of homiletics at Vanderbilt Divinity School, who along with his wife Annie, currently serving as our interim associate pastor, is my mentor for this year in NEP. Incidentally, for those from Terre Haute, he taught and was friends with Lant Davis at Louisville Seminary. He designed a worship service today that would integrate music that expresses the congregation’s identity. Here is a link to an explanation of the service.

The service went like this:

RINGING OF THE BELL Brian Findley called us to worship by ringing a handbell
LIGHTING THE CHRIST CANDLE

WELCOME AND ANNOUNCEMENTS

PRELUDE: “Improvisation on ‘Morning Has Broken’” by Jeff Moles, piano

CALL TO WORSHIP
The first verse of “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing” was sung responsively, with John singing a line, and the congregation answering back. Accompaniment was guitar, hammered dulcimer, and tin whistle.

OPENING HYMN: “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing”
All three verses were sung, with the instruments listed earlier, with me on piano and Nancy on organ joining in this time. This was the first time the finished new organ was played in worship. Belmont student Alan Fey also joined in on Bodhran (a Celtic drum). This was the absolute highlight of worship for me. I loved looking at people’s faces during this hymn. The singing was outstanding.

CALL TO CONFESSION as water was poured in the baptismal font
PRAYER OF CONFESSION
As people continued in silent confession, “Appassionata” from Secret Garden’s album White Stones was played.

ASSURANCE OF PARDON led from the font

CONGREGATIONAL RESPONSE: “Amazing Grace”
This was one of the most moving parts of the service. Burkley Allen sang the first verse solo, being joined by her daughter Mary on the second. The congregation and choir sang a capella on the final three verses. It was a moment of quiet assurance of God’s grace.

A TIME FOR THE CHILDREN
“Little Children Come Unto Me” song by member Steve Siler.
Cathy Hoop led the children in a discussion about hymns and music, ended by their singing “Jesus Loves Me.” As the children exited, I played a short improvisation on “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” in the style of Steve Siler’s “Little Children Come Unto Me.”

PRAYER FOR ILLUMINATION

SCRIPTURE LESSON: Revelation 21: 1-6 (new Heaven and a new Earth…)

ANTHEM: “I Saw a New Heaven” by E.L. Bainton, sung by the choir

SERMON: The sermon was begun and ended by Annie McClure. In the middle, members of the Music and Religious Identity class presented the “liner notes” they had come up with to explain the significance of a favorite piece of music. Betty Orr began with the song “Down to the River to Pray” from O Brother, Where Art Thou, which reminded her of the a capella congregational singing of her past, and her baptism by immersion. Bob Crownover reflected on George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord,” as a connection he had to God when his connection to the church waned during his youth. Jessica Riviere discussed the spiritual “Freedom is Coming,” which was a familiar song she heard in an unfamiliar place while living in Germany for a year, and included themes of justice and struggle for freedom.

MOMENT FOR SILENT REFLECTION

DEDICATION OF LIFE:
CALL FOR THE OFFERING
THE OFFERTORY: “Great Ektania” by Sergei Rachmaninov (recorded music)
DOXOLOGY: “Gloria” from the Taize Community, played by the full worship ensemble (2 guitars, percussion, piano, organ, bass)

INVITATION TO THE LORD’S TABLE
“Come people, come to the table of Christ. We will make a giant loaf…And we will bring many guests, the poor, the battered, the anxious, the weak, the lonely, the sick.”

THE GREAT THANKSGIVING and EUCHARISTIC PRAYER
THE SANCTUS: “Santo, Santo, Santo,” an Argentinean folk tune, put into Waltz time with a distinct touch of Nashville.

“In the fullness of time you sent Jesus, in every respect human as we are, to grow up in a small town in Galilee speaking with a distinct accent, far from the seat of religious and civil power. Beside Jacob’s well he was moved by an encounter with a minority woman to disclose his messianic identity.”

DISTRIBUTION OF THE ELEMENTS with people coming down the aisles to take communion by intinction.

MUSIC DURING COMMUNION was a very moving experience.
The choir, with soloists sang “Down to the Water to Pray.” It gave me chills when the drum came in as I was standing in line to receive communion. After that, the South African freedom song “Freedom is Coming” was sung by the choir.

PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING

At this point in the 11:00 service, the little glass topper to the Christ candle fell and broke, perhaps signifying that the light of Christ could not be contained. Or, maybe the candle had just melted too much.

SONG OF RESPONSE: “Day by Day” from Godspell with the congregation singing along with the band

BENEDICTION from Annie

THE CONGREGATIONAL RESPONSE: refrain from “Here I Am, Lord”

POSTLUDE: “My Sweet Lord” by George Harrison (of Beatles fame) performed by the band

Tour de Nashville

For a lot of the year, my roommates and I have been talking about how we would like to take a day and visit one another’s workplaces. Today was the day. The only time any of us had ever been to see where each of us spends our days was in our first week here. That was the first time any of us had been to our workplaces, and the first time any of us had personally met those with whom we would be working. It was great to be able to actually see and meet the people and places that we discuss in our evenings together.

Here’s how our day of touring around the city went, after Tara and I made a quick trip to the Green Hills Starbucks for a little bit of waking assistance (not that we’re the two in the house that actually need it).

Stop 1: The Campus for Human Development
We spent about an hour at the Campus, where things were pretty quiet. I took everybody around on a little tour, showing them all of my hang-outs, from the support desk, to the mail room, to my office. Speaking of my office, it has recently been cleaned out. I share it with my fellow intern Jana, who will sadly be finishing her internship in a few weeks, and we cleaned up our office for the first time this year two weeks ago during our Campus clean-up day. We have been having a mouse problem, and we realized that the cause may have been the big pile of popcorn kernels that was on our floor behind our lovely popcorn machine, which is kind of a nice conversation piece for our office. We also cleaned up some of the half-full coffee mugs and dirty dishes that were left by the previous occupant of our room when it was used for case management over a year ago. We added some additional artwork (made by our participants) to go with the scary painting of a former Jesuit volunteer whose teeth and gums were portrayed in a slightly unflattering manner. I accidentally pulled our curtains down, which were way too long for our window anyway and I think were bed sheets in a former life. Unfortunately, there have still been mice, so the exterminator has been called. Nevertheless, my office is in much better shape and I’ve probably spent more time in there in the last two weeks than I have in the last eight months.

Okay—back to the tour. The most exciting thing that happened while we were at the Campus was passing out lunch tickets at 10:00 in the morning. They also got to watch me help a woman get her state ID card, which was a thrill, I’m sure. I was a little disappointed that nothing else was going on or that my participant friends didn’t seem to have much life or personality, though Patrick got to have a pretty good conversation with Richard, one of our more unique people.

Stop 2: Conexión Americas
Tara’s workplace is slightly different from mine. Her office, which is very large, with nice paintings and brightly colored walls includes a window that looks out on the building across the street, which is the Nashville Music Writers Association office. She says that there is usually someone on the porch playing the guitar and singing. Music Row is a little different than the 8th and Division area. We got to meet a few of her co-workers, which was fun. Patrick got the chance to change the light bulb in Maria Clara’s office. She is one of Tara’s bosses, and a co-founder of Conexión Americas. Conexión is an awesome organization that works to promote the integration of Hispanic immigrants into the community. Tara organizes a conversation program (“Conversemos”) that pairs English and Spanish speakers for help in breaking down language barriers, or borders, you might say. Tara had us stuff some brochures that will be distributed at upcoming Cinco de Mayo festivals around the community.

Stop 3: Presbytery of Middle Tennessee meeting
Susan called me as we were driving from Conexión Americas to the Korean Presbyterian Church of Nashville near Brentwood to the Middle Tennessee Presbytery meeting we had been scheduled to give a presentation at. She let us know that the meeting was running about a half hour ahead of schedule. We had planned to get there about a half hour or 25 minutes before we were scheduled on the docket, so things were going to be tight. As we walked in the door, the end of the commissioning service for the Guatemalan mission trip participants was ending, which was the cue that we were next. Fortunately, we arrived with about 30 seconds to spare. Each of us, along with Susan, told about the program and the experiences we have had this year. Many people stopped to talk to us afterward. I met several people who had connections to the Campus, and it was nice to see many familiar faces there. Nothing gets me excited like a good presbytery meeting (really—I know it’s sad) so I was definitely in my element. The Korean Presbyterian Church prepared an outstanding lunch, which we washed down with a little cup of Presbyterian Coffee Project fair trade coffee.

Stop 4: The Toolshed
We changed into more comfortable clothes/shoes for the rest of the day. We also enjoyed some Diet Coke with Lime.

Stop 5: Martha O’Bryan Center
Chasie works in the middle of Nashville’s oldest and largest housing projects: James A. Cayce Homes. They are row after row of small red brick two-story apartment buildings. After dark, this is an area where shootings are common. We arrived at MOB, a Presbyterian supported organization, about a half hour before the after school program began. We saw “Ms. Chasie’s” office, which might have even topped Tara’s in niceness. Both of them have offices nicer than anyone at the Campus has, so I was jealous! I admired the nice pictures kids had drawn for her on her bulletin board, including an apology letter she received from a little kid. We met some of the staff members, and then went with Chasie and the elementary program director to pick up a group of children from Kirkpatrick Elementary School. We walked back with the kids, and I was very impressed by the way Chasie works with them and the relationships she has developed with them and their families. The kids were working on their homework when we left.

Stop 6: Preston Taylor Ministries
PTM, the after school program where Patrick works, just moved into a new building about a month ago. I left that beautiful new building with a great deal of respect for what Patrick deals with each day. He is challenged with somehow bringing hope and order out of some of the most chaotic kids I’ve ever seen. His boss, Chan, had us help with some of the reading groups. “Mr. Patrick” put me with the kindergarten kids, and I was a little overwhelmed. I was with a more regular volunteer, who was fortunately there, or I may not have made it out of the room alive. I had a few of the girls read me some books, which they did in between jumping up on top of the table and hitting me. It did make me feel a little bit better that the regular volunteer couldn’t control them any better than I could. I was thoroughly impressed with what PTM is able to do with such a small staff (pretty much just Chan, Patrick and a few other volunteers). We played jump rope with the kids before they left. I would probably take up drinking if I had to work with kids every day.

Stop 7: Second Presbyterian Church
After putting a lasagna in the oven, Tara and I headed over to the church for a lecture given by Rev. Mark Davis, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Boise, Idaho. It was a very interesting talk about aesthetics and art in worship that involved a discussion of the level of thought we put into flowers in worship.

Stop 8: The couches
We ended the night a few minutes ago with a great talk about everything we had done during the day. What great people I have been blessed to live with, and what amazing things we get to do and see every day.

I better go to bed now, I have to get up early to make monkey bread to take to our Campus staff retreat tomorrow.

Renegade Sheep

Yesterday was Good Shepherd Sunday, as is always the fourth Sunday of Easter. Our Christian Educator at Second preached an outstanding sermon, which I would rank as one of the top five or ten I've heard.

Here it is.

"Sheep of a Renegade Shepherd"

A sermon on Psalm 23 by Cathy Hoop

Blessing and honor and glory and might

Yesterday's lectionary readings included one of my favorite scripture passages, a scene from the fifth chapter of Revelation of heavenly worship

"Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels surrounding the throne and the living creatures and the elders; they numbered myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, singing with full voice, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!" Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, singing, "To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!" And the four living creatures said, "Amen!" And the elders fell down and worshiped."


I always think that it's funny that my favorite biblical passage comes from Revelation, since that's usually the territory of fundamentalist televangelists who spend their ministries making bold claims about the time and place of Jesus' imminent return. If you look behind the flat out strange imagery and bizarre prophesies found in John's Revelation, you'll find some extraordinary visions of the church universal standing before the throne of God. I think those of us who have the privilege of being able to create music in worship, whether being an organist or pianist as I have been, or one of the voices that joins to create a community's song of praise, prayer or lament, know something about what heaven is like.

When I was the music director and organist at Trinity Lutheran in Terre Haute (hi Lutherans!), the most intense moment in worship for me were when we would sing the canticle "This is the feast" toward the beginning of the service. It is a canticle that takes its text from the words of Revelation. "This is the feast of victory for our God, Alleluia! Worthy is Christ, the Lamb who was slain, whose blood set us free to be people of God. Power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and blessing and glory are his. Sing with all the people of God, and join in the hymn of all creation; Blessing and honor and glory and might be to God and the Lamb forever, Amen! This is the feast of victory for our God, for the Lamb who was slain has begun his reign. Alleluia, Alleluia!"

Images of all creation joining to sing a hymn are important to me when I am playing music for worship. Often when we'd sing that hymn, I'd imagine ocean waves crashing and tree leaves rustling in the wind joining the voices of human and non-human creatures. It's like Herbert Brokering's hymn "Earth And All Stars" where everything from crowds and marching bands to trumpets and pipes to loud boiling test tubes sing praises to God. Images of people from every tribe and language at the throne of God (there must not be any English-only laws in Heaven, surprisingly) are very moving to me.

Creation's song of praise takes on many faces when examined at individual levels. It might sound like the phenomenal music our youth group at Second Pres. offered at last Sunday's youth service: a rendition of Hank William's "I Saw the Light" and Nickel Creek's "Doubting Thomas," which both illustrated beautifully the theme of the day. It might be the footsteps of migrant workers entering a strange land where they won't necessarily be welcomed. The song of praise might be found in the strong voices of homeless men gathered on Easter morning to sing "Amazing Grace." It might be heard as somebody relieves stress by humming to the radio on the way to work. Even the cries of anguish blend into this song to the Lamb who was slaughtered in screams from help from violence.


What a humbling opportunity it is for us to enter God's eternal time in music and in worship.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The last piece of the puzzle for Second Presbyterian's new building is the installation of the new organ. Yesterday morning, many people were standing in the front of the sanctuary staring backwards toward the balcony to get the first glimpse of the new organ, which was still on a truck a week earlier. It is Juget-Sinclair's Opus 26, a tracker action organ with 22 ranks.

Here are the specifications on the Juget-Sinclair site.

It should be ready to go by the new church building's dedication service on the afternoon of June 3.

Toolshed under siege: When animals (and hoodlums) attack

The Toolshed seems to be under attack.

For nearly a week, what at first seemed like a normal robin, has tortured us with repeated crashes into our little home. Over and over (and over) he will fly head first into our living room window. He will sit on our trash can outside and then start his repeated pecking at our window. Normal sessions, which happen several times a day, include about 7-8 take offs and crash landings.

We have a few theories of what might be going on here. The bird might be mentally challenged. Maybe it fell out of its nest as a young baby robin. Perhaps its mother drank before laying her egg. We are also thinking that this might be the Holy Spirit trying to peck its way into our house in some symbolic action.

Here are a few action shots taken from inside.

Just as we thought the deranged robin was the biggest of our problems over on Richards Street...

This afternoon, Tara, Chasie and I went to see Blades of Glory with our friend Zach at the Regal Green Hills. We smuggled in some burritos from Baja Fresh since the movie started at 12:45 and we didn't have time to eat. When we pulled back up to the house, here is what we saw:

Yes, that's right, here in Green Hills, where there are no problems in the world, our beloved Toolshed was tagged. We think it was done in broad daylight since we didn't see it on our walk to church this morning or on the way to the movie. We're not sure what it says or stands for. Who would have done such a thing? Was it a random act of vandalism, or was this graffiti making a statement against us? It could have been some other group of volunteers who were jealous of our NEP awesomeness (the youth ministers? the Jesuits?). Maybe somebody from one of our workplaces was getting back at one of us. I wouldn't think the homeless people would walk this far, though I might have made a few enemies. Maybe one of the disgruntled Jr. High students from Patrick's after school program, or one of Tara's clients that she wronged in some way? Who knows. If you have any information on who might have committed this crime, or can figure out what the grafitti says, call us at the Toolshed or call the Metro Police directly. Thanks.

RESURRECTION PEOPLE

This morning, I had the unique opportunity to see all of my worlds meet in a parking lot in downtown Nashville. Second Presbyterian held its annual sunrise service at the Campus for Human Development this morning on a record cold day. We bundled up and met under a tent, worshiped and then fed breakfast to the crowd. My family visited me this weekend, so it was nice to have them, those with whom I work, and those with whom I attend church together in one setting.

I was asked to give the sermon, which I did. It was a spirit-filled morning, to say the least. As each of us who introduced the service said, there is no place on earth any of us would rather be on Easter morning. The Campus can be a place of great sadness, as it was last Friday when the gentleman attempted to take his own life, but, as a parallel to the biblical story, Sunday morning was a day of hope.

Here is the sermon I gave.

RESURRECTION OF THE LORD SUNDAY / EASTER MORNING AT SUNRISE
ISAIAH 65: 17-25
JOHN 20: 1-18

Sunday, April 8, 2007
The Campus for Human Development
Jeff Moles

WHY ARE YOU WEEPING?

Those of us who spend a lot of time in this place, as I and many of you do, know that this is an unlikely place for people to come to celebrate the first moments of Easter Sunday. All too often, these streets are a place of sadness and violent words and actions. It can be hard to find the beauty in a place like this, but believe me, it is here. The same must have been true in the garden on that first Easter morning. Mary Magdalene and the disciples were just a few days removed from the death of their close friend and teacher. Most of us know how it feels to loose someone we love. And unfortunately, many of us gathered here this morning know the terror of losing that loved one by violent means, dying before their time.

So—how is it that some people are able to see past the gloom of life’s harsh realities? How did those present in the garden that morning gain eyes to see new life and have faith to react? And perhaps most importantly, how can we, in this time and place, gain the courage to see God’s resurrection work among us? How can we turn from people stuck in Good Friday’s world of death, fear and anguish, into a people marked by the resurrection, with its new beginnings, hope and joy? Will it make a difference in this world if we all believe in the resurrection but live like we’re stuck on Good Friday?

I think we can take our cues from those mentioned in the gospel account we heard this morning. According to John, Simon Peter and the other disciple went into the tomb that morning and looked at what was there: burial cloths lying by themselves. As John puts it, they “saw and believed.” Mary Magdalene encountered the risen Christ herself. The gospel writer tells us that she “went and announced” the good news to others. And so, here is set before us, a pattern to emulate in our path to becoming a resurrection people: see, believe, go, announce.

SEE
The first of these, to see, is often the hardest because it requires us to think outside of the box and think in a way that is different from the way the rest of the world would have us. It is easy to look at the person who is at the bottom of society’s ladder, who has no respect for her or himself or for anyone else for that matter, who struggles with addiction and self-abuse, and think that they have no future, no hope for development as a person. To see with Easter eyes means to embrace the image of God in that person, to have a vision of what that person might become as a fully developed child of God.

As many of you know, we have some people who work here at the Campus who are recovering addicts and those who have escaped the bonds of homelessness. I think they hold an important key to the rest of us in how to be people of new life rather than of death: both to those of us in this community like me who have never had to taste the bitter pill of life on the streets and those who are still on their way back from that struggle. It is through their strength and the strength of those currently going through our programs like Odyssey that it becomes possible to see how life might change for those who call the alley home. I sometimes like to look around this place and try to imagine who will be the next person to take a big step in the journey of recovery. Who will be the next Melvin, June, Fred, Harry or Ron?

Seeing the seemingly impossible, whether it’s having the strength to see a pile of cloths in an empty tomb, or imagining a person with hopefulness, is the first step in living the resurrection life.

BELIEVE
The next step after seeing is believing. After the disciples saw the pile of burial clothes, the gospel writer says they believed. Would we have the faith to believe in God’s amazing power to bring about new life from death? Would we be able to believe the mystery of resurrection in a dark tomb?

After we’ve seen the evidence, it’s our task to believe in the force behind it. Sometimes it’s so easy to think that there’s really nothing behind all this “God” stuff. My friends, I’ve seen so much evidence of God’s power here it’s hard to not believe that there is something greater than ourselves at work among us.

More often it’s in little things rather than big. I see evidence of God’s work here when somebody gets a new job that gives them hope for a future that is better. I see it in the looks on people’s faces when they come walking across this parking lot on Friday mornings after attending a graduation ceremony from the DTC alcohol and drug treatment program. I see it when people enjoy community and fellowship with others at Room In The Inn. I see it when people organize with one another to fight for the housing that they and others deserve. God’s power is even present in the darkest of times. It is there when I’m walking someone to the Guest House and they say to me, “I’ve really had enough of this; I need help.” Or when a heated dispute turns into handshakes.

See the evidence of God’s resurrection work among us and believe.

GO
After we’ve seen and believed the good news, it’s our big chance to shine. “Go.” Just as Mary went from her encounter with Jesus that first Easter morning, living a life that reflects the resurrection often requires that we go from where we are. That might mean to make a change in the way we think. It might mean associating with different people, either ones that won’t tempt you into old ways of living or ones who especially need your good example. Or, it might mean, as it has for me, moving from Indiana to Tennessee to turn strangers into friends.

On Easter Sunday last year I was a college student, and the music director at a church. This Easter Sunday, I’m a Young Adult Volunteer with the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), working with the homeless community here at the Campus for Human Development. This is a different world from the one I was used to. I have learned a lot about what it means to survive on the streets and have a great deal of respect for all of you. I don’t fully understand your struggle because I have never been there myself. I do, however, believe that the work I do here, even when it doesn’t make people happy, is what God has called me to do.

Go. Go where you’ve never been. Jesus calls us to go into all the world as resurrection people. Go.


ANNOUNCE
The fourth thing we find Mary Magdalene doing is announcing the good news.

Saint Francis of Assisi said “Preach the gospel at all times – if necessary, use words.”

I think this is a good way for us to look at our responsibility to this world and to God to announce the gospel. A good way to start in this endeavor is to respect ourselves as people made in the image of God. Though we are certainly not worthy of God’s great love for us and the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ that was carried out on our behalf, we must embrace our identity as God’s children. Those of us who are baptized know what it means to be claimed by God. It is up to God’s grace to help us live a life worthy of the calling to which we are called.

After we respect the image of God within ourselves, a good next step is to respect that image in everyone else we meet. Some people say that they experience God best by looking at a beautiful sunset or while hiking in the mountains. Typically these comments are made to justify not going to church or participating in any type of spiritual community. While I certainly give nothing but praise to God for the beauty of creation, I tend to think these people are a little off base. You see, I think the best place, and admittedly the most difficult, to meet God is in one another. Only human beings are made in the image of God. It is our task to love them as we would love our selves and respect the image of God that they reveal to this world as much as we respect the one that is in ourselves.

By doing this, we announce to this world that we see things differently. For us, the sorrow of Good Friday has passed, and the joy of Easter fills our hearts, minds, and actions.


See.
Believe.
Go.
Announce.

By overcoming death, God has given us the command to turn our lives in a God-ward direction. We are called not to live in the shadows and mourn the violent, poor world in which we live. It is our calling as people of the resurrection to ask the world the same questions posed to Mary by the angels and Jesus: “why are you weeping?”

Why are you weeping, world? Christ is risen! Alleluia! Amen.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"EASTER IN A PARKING LOT"

by Stacy Rector, former Associate Pastor of Second Presbyterian Church

Pavement, worn and cracked as

tired feet falling

on broken asphalt

bearing worn bags and cracked hearts

Another day on the streets

Empty bellies and pockets

An empty tomb

Light breaks once more

Still, a shadow looms large

in cruciform shape lengthens with the day

Where is the broken one this morning?

Stumbling along the railroad tracks or

dripping with Easter finery?

Smelling of lilies or

of the streets?

On a folding chair in the corner

As cold hands thaw

A warm heart plots again

to change

water into wine or

into hot coffee

A parking lot becomes a church,

Crumbs, a feast

Resurrection rises among us

Like leaven in a loaf,

like laughter in the throat

like an "alleluia" or an "amen"

Lightly landing on asphalt gray,

Traipsing like an angel floating in air

Comes one with melody of hope in one another

And the music of the mystery of love

Chasing away fear, cleansing guilt,

Conquering death forever...

Solidarity

Just before Lent began, something appeared in the sanctuary of Second Presbyterian that many people had been asking about since the new sanctuary opened in January. A cross. The central symbol of our faith had finally been included in our new worship space. At first, I didn’t like it. It disrupted the simplicity that I had been enjoying. The pulpit sort of forms a cross as interpreted in the PCUSA seal; we had a table, a font and a Christ candle. Wasn’t this enough? Despite what I thought, there were many who thought something was missing without a prominent cross.

What a strange symbol our faith has. The cross is an execution device. Maybe if Jesus would have lived in 2007, an appropriate symbol for Christianity would be a syringe or an electric chair. For me, as Al Gore might say, the cross is the inconvenient truth of faith. It is so tempting to skip over the crucifixion aspect, especially since I was so turned off by the marketing and frenzy surrounding “The Passion of the Christ” movie a few years ago. I am a Christian who likes to think about the life Jesus lived and the example he left for us, or the resurrection, which calls to mind notions of eternity and hope. But a horrifying death by torture? No thanks.

Today was one of those days where things were a little rough at work. This morning, one of our participants had what we called a “psychotic episode” which was really an episode of pain, illness and rage. It began with us asking him to leave for the day because of the language he was using and the way he was talking to us. It ended in his being taken away in an ambulance after he had been so desperate to seek release from the pains of this life that he had rammed his own head against one of our buildings in an attempt to take his own life. As I said something like “I understand what you mean” or “I know what you are going through” he absolutely broke down as a person and wept openly to the point of mental instability where he made threats against others and himself before finally injuring himself. As he made clear to me, I don’t know what he is going through, and he was right. As he lay in pain on the cold concrete with his arms spread and his legs flailing around in a state of semi-consciousness, he kept crying in pain, spiritual, emotional and physical.

There is someone who knows what pain we face in life. For in human form, God walked in our shoes. Christ faced the most humiliating and cruel pain the world had to offer. That is the message of Good Friday: the cross stands as an eternal symbol of the God who bears the pain of this broken world every day.

Even the stones will shout...

...when you use eco-palms for Palm Sunday!

Because the actual palms that church members wave in their churches on Palm Sunday are not the real meaning of this day, most people don't think about where the palms we use come from and how we might be neglecting the call to love our neighbor and care for creation by using particular types of palms. At Second this morning, we used eco-palms. Here's what the bulletin insert explaining this project had to say.

eco-palms: a healthier harvest

Today, in celebration of Palm Sunday, our congregation has partnered with Enough for Everyone of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) to use eco-palms--a branch truly worthy of celebration.

COMMUNITIES AT RISK

More than 300 million palm fronds are harvested each year for US consumption alone--most of them for Palm Sunday. Yet for the communities who harvest these plants year after year, palm fronds rarely represent jubilation. Although US palm purchases may reach as high as $4.5 million each year, the palm harvesters themselves earn very little. Indigenous families and communities, who rely heavily on palm harvesting for income, represent the poorer segments of the rural populations in the palm-producing areas of Mexico and Guatemala.

ENVIRONMENT AT RISK

Typically, palm harvesting is done by community members hired by local contractors, who then sell palms to large floral export firms. Payment is based on volume, so harvesters are motivated to gather a large quantity of palms without regard for quality. As a result, up to half the palms harvested are usually discarded due to poor quality. Many palm producing areas are important biosphere reserves, and the harsh harvesting techniques rapidly deplete the forest's rich biodiversity.

GOOD NEWS: A HEALTHIER HARVEST

The PC(USA) has partnered with Lutheran World Relief, Catholic Relief Services and the University of Minnesota to help build support in the US for eco-palms by introducing congregations to this social and environmental justice project.

Eco-palms are harvested in a more sustainable way--harvesters are paid on the quality of their palms rather than the quantity. These communities are also committed to using harvesting practices that minimize the impact on the natural forest.

Eco-palm harvesters and community members sort and package the palms themselves and sell their palms directly rather than relying on middlemen. In this way, eco-palms improve local communities' standard of living and ensure that the money paid for the palms benefit those who labor.

As we raise our branches in celebration today, we play an important role in protecting forests, local jobs, and sustainable livelihoods in harvesting communities.

Eco-Palm Project

part of Enough for Everyone

a campaign of the PCUSA that encourages creative ways of to practice responsible discipleship in the global community, including the Presbyterian Coffee Project, Electric Stewardship, Sweat-Free T's, Oikocredit, the Eco-Palm Project, and the Global Marketplace.