Ministry Viewed Through a Coffee Mug

During our Education for Ministry group, we were given a reflection exercise where we had to choose an item off the center table.  We were to examine said item, notice why we had picked it, and anything that the item brought to mind.

Once we had done that, we were to consider how this item reflected our ministry.

My item was a "Life is Good" coffee mug.   Initially, I was drawn to it because I like the Life is Good series.  One of my massage school teachers always wore the company's T-shirts with the smiling stick figure drawings hanging out in a lawn chair with a beer, or surfing, or fishing, or bike riding.  As I looked closely at the mug, I found the phrase on the other side: "Do what you like. Like what you do."  I noticed it was somewhat heavy, with a thick-lipped rim.  But what I kept thinking about the cup is that it was empty, and yet "Life is Good."

That thought of "empty, but good" was the basis of my ministerial reflection.  I thought about all of the "official" ways in which I minister:  I am a co-mentor in EfM, a Eucharistic Minister, the leader of Circle of Hope, a leader in PFLAG, and very important, I am a licensed massage therapist, a ministry of healing to those broken by the world.

I looked at the coffee mug again.  Coffee mugs are common every day objects.  I thought about how I take myself, my Christianity as colored in by the Episcopal Church, into common every day places all the time.  One of the most common spaces is among those in my theater group, the Mickee Faust Club.  And while I wouldn't describe the cabaret-style theater we do at Faust as "common", the people involved are representative of the vast majority who have been injured by the church in some way and are embittered, or who just don't bother with the church at all.   In this way, I am a bit of a mystery to my fellow Faustkateers.  As I told my EfM group, I don't push the Christ message on people with lots of "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!"  But because I don't park my Christianity at the door, I know I have made some in the company have to think about blanket statements that start with, "Well, y'know, Christians are always doing...."

This, of course, is something I used to do myself.  The blanket accusation of all Christians for the sins being committed by a few.  I had had more than one or two of the little "c" "christian" persuasion scream at me to "Repent!" of my homosexuality, or corner me in an effort to convert me, or seen them in the media denouncing the likes of me.   I also was horrified that none of the big "C" Christians felt there was a need to counter these messages with the actual Gospel of Love.  Their silence hurt as much, if not more, than the ones who claimed to be speaking in the name of Christ while denigrating members of the body of Christ.   I am reminded of a passage in Romans 14:

Why do you pass judgement on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgement seat of God.For it is written,

‘As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me,

   and every tongue shall give praise to God.’

So then, each of us will be accountable to God.

Let us therefore no longer pass judgement on one another, but resolve instead never to put a stumbling-block or hindrance in the way of another. 

It it this ethic that I carry with me into these common spaces such as Mickee Faust.   Because even among the ones who have never cared for or thought much of the church, there may be one who is looking for that beacon of light from God as guidance to a new understanding of how they are connected to God, this world, and all of creation.  In his day, Christ was that very bright beacon on a mission to get people to stop bickering over the dicta of how you love God and, in the phrase of Madison Avenue, "just do it!"   That is what we are all called to do as members of the eternal priesthood of the laity.  Our purpose, vocation and ministry is to live and show forth a life that others might see Christ in us.   And then it will be God's own doing that will go to work on the heart, mind and soul of a person.

The more we empty ourselves and share what and who we are, life will be good.

Stewardship Revelation

Oh, boy! Oh, boy!  We’re entering into the final weeks of this year’s readings in the Daily Office and that means one thing:  Revelation!

The Book of Revelation to John really is a part of the Bible that I think must have been authored by the creator of Calvin and Hobbes (the cartoon… not the theologian and philosopher).   Either that, or John got into some funny mushrooms.   You’ve got creatures with wings and multiple eyes and dragons and lambs and horsemen and mayhem and a new heaven and a new earth.  It’s really whacky reading and the kind of stuff an imaginative child might relish.  And it certainly isn’t boring.

What struck me in reading the Revelation passage assigned for today (besides imagining lions and eagles with lots of eyes) was the scene of the four winged creatures and the twenty-four elders bowing to God and saying, “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power for you created all things, and by their will they existed and were created.”  That sentence reminds me of what I often heard the priest say at the altar on Sundays before beginning the liturgy of the table:

“All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.”

Until recently, that phrase would pass through one ear and out the other.  Nothing snagged it in my brain, forcing me to contend with its meaning.  

Then along came the stewardship campaign. 

Just as predictable as readings from Revelation showing up in the lectionary at the end of the Church year, it is equally as regular that the mid-fall season means the beginning of the stewardship campaign; that time when some appointed people in the church are called on to help the rector reach out to the rest of the congregation and commit some hard cold cash for a year.  The church exists for God, but God doesn’t pay the utility bills.  And in this human, earthly realm, the church needs money for the privilege of existence on a city block.

I used to get really uncomfortable about stewardship campaigns.  I didn’t like people asking me to make a commitment of money to the church because I didn’t want to be “pinned down” to give a specific amount.  I felt scared by the whole thing; what if I couldn’t pay my pledge?  Would I get kicked out of the congregation as a free-loader?   

My anxiety changed one day as I was in my massage office waiting for a client.  I had been asked to be on the stewardship committee for the parish, and thus was having to face my own fears and doubts about money, what I could afford, and how would I budget for a pledge.  I realized that money held a lot of energy and power over me.  And the only way for me to keep money from staring at me like some looming ogre was to take a more Buddhist approach to the green stuff.  I had to learn to detach from it. 

This is easier said than done.  But as I thought about that line, “All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee,” I thought about the transfer of money especially that which I called, “my money.”  “My money” is never really “my money.”  It isn’t really something I own; it’s on loan to me to then move it along to someone or something else.  I don’t necessarily believe that our currency is “God’s money.”  But what we do with it and how we relate to it will influence our stewardship of all things.  And if we believe that God created all things, then we are bound to treat all things with care and respect.   This includes the bits of copper, silver and dollars that make up that thing called, “money.”  Adopting a philosophy toward money like that, I found it easier to conceive of making a pledge.  I could find an amount that had significance to me, and then I could let it go without feeling a need or a demand or sensing that I was in any way  still emotionally, spiritually or psychically attached to this check that I had written. 

The church gets the money that had been in my hands and in someone else’s hands before that to put that money to use in supplying a space for people to gather to worship, meet and have fellowship.  Thanks be to God for that.

Paying It Forward

Tomorrow's gospel lesson from Luke 16 is a challenge.
We're given the story of the property manager who is found to be not worthy of the job getting the ax and, as he's on the way out, he devises a plan to make good with those who owe his rich man boss jugs of olive oil and containers of wheat. He tells the debtors to reduce their bills by a certain amount and pay that lower bill. When the rich man finds out, he praises this guy for being shrewd.
I admit, it left me scratching my head. Searching various commentaries on the internet did nothing much to alleviate the confusion. Is Jesus saying the steward, the property manager, should be praised for figuring out how to make himself popular with those who owed a debt to the rich man by reducing their bills? Is Jesus saying cheating a rich man out of what is owed is OK? Am I being far too literal with this whole thing?
Time to put the brakes on. Take a breath. And remember what is true of all of Scripture: context, context, context. This story isn't happening in a vacuum. Preceding this parable are three others: the lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son. In each case, the joy comes in the finding of the one that was not there as opposed to delighting over the ones that haven't gone missing. Jesus seems to be telling these stories in response to the criticisms of the Pharisees, who in Luke's gospel, are most concerned with money and sticking to the rules and not getting sullied by being around "those people."
This story of the unjust manager comes after the prodigal son and is directed to the disciples. At a critical place in the story, Jesus notes that the rich man praises the sacked manager for being shrewd by essentially deducting presumably his own wages from other people's bills... something that "the children of this age" are good at: acting shrewdly in their dealings with one another. That's something "the children of the light"(the followers of Christ) don't do well. The manager has done what he needed to do to preserve himself in this world. And I would say he did so in a way that, whether it occurred to him, gets him in the direction of eternal life. Rather than pocketing his commission, he has given it away, but not in wasteful or useless way: he has helped others by reducing their debt to the rich man. He evaluated his coming unemployment and made a choice to act in a way that would give him some friends to help him through this tough time ahead. Paying it forward. And, again, doing something that would irk the Pharisees of the Gospel of I Know What I'm Owed in the Here and Now.
For me, this ties back into the collect for Sunday:

Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

I see in this lesson the call to us not to cling to money and make money the thing we worship as an idol. Money really is a tool, but is not "the thing" or should not be "the thing" of our lives. In many ways, I believe it is those of us who do not have a lot of money who perhaps have a closer understanding of this lesson. Seriously, if money was the Alpha and Omega then I'd be the one cast into the outer darkness!