#dscumc

Love you, #Orlando

Orlando suffered deeply this week. On our holy day, Sunday, early in the morning, 49 dear souls were lost to us at the hands of yet another mass shooting. I keep hearing the strains of people saying that Love will win out every time, and that love conquers hate. I believe that. I hope that. I dream that. I keep hearing about love…

All the while my heart is crying deep sobs in pain. Orlando has experienced tragedy and horror, and now families are visiting mortuaries and hospitals…some praying and hoping for their loved one to return to them whole, while others are planning memorials for their young.

The pain is cut deeper by what a wise woman, Rev. Jennifer Yocum, said on her Facebook post. She wrote to her straight friends, reminding them that the tragedy in Orlando was more than a shooting in a bar. Bars, she said, are places of sanctuary where people who have to hide go to be free in their own skin. They are “communication centers, communications hubs, our reminder that we are not alone.” And Jennifer takes it deeper. She reminds us that “when churches would not let us cross their thresholds, the bars were where we held our memorial services and our weddings.” (Ouch, Church!). And they are places where human rights are organized, where hope is born.

And then Jennifer states that in Orlando this week, an atrocity occurred against a group of Latino/Latina LGBTQ persons, who were doubly disavowed in culture. And #Pulse was a place that served as a “double sanctuary” for them.

Her words cut deep. For I know that we have not been Church or Sanctuary to many, and especially to our LGBTQ brothers and sisters. I attended our #UMC General Conference, and I felt the agony of once again being unable to state out loud that “open hearts, open minds, open doors” applies to All. Instead, it applies to those who are already “in,” those who are self-proclaimed as “valuable.”

So now there are three emotions rolling around my soul: Deep sadness/pain; revulsion…the feeling of throwing up; and hope for something different. The pain and sadness are about the loss of life and the persistence of evil. The revulsion is about my own United Methodist Church, that can’t decide to broaden the circle, and that forgot our central theological theme: Grace. It makes me sick to my stomach. The hope is that somehow, someway this will change. I don’t want change tomorrow. I want change to happen Now. Today. Immediately. #ItsTime for Love to win out over evil. There is no other way for us go forward.

Tears are flowing. God is crying with us. Today we mourn. And today we work to Love everyone, an action that crushes evil, an action born out of the understanding that God is Love. May.It.Be.So. Love You, #Orlando! Every single one of you.

EASTER!!!

The women were disbelieved by the men. I could say a lot about that, but I won’t. The men disciples were at best, confused. At least they had some idea that something crazy might have happened, though their brains couldn’t comprehend it. Peter, at least, looked at his doubts, and perhaps remembered some of Jesus’ words, and ran to the tomb. But the real moment of understanding came when Jesus walked with two of them on a road, and then appeared to all of them in a room. He showed them his hands and his feet so they could believe. He explained their own scriptures, especially the parts that pointed to this very moment. And they experienced joy beyond-belief. That’s the kind of joy that comes when you don’t need CNN-factoids to understand. What they knew for sure was that Jesus was here, that Jesus stomped over death, and that their worldview had taken a seismic shift.

Jesus asked those beloved women and men disciples to do one thing: to preach a change of heart and life for the forgiveness of sins to the world, but starting at home. Whoa! Starting at home? Really Jesus? That means I need to forgive mama, and uppity sister, and mean cousin? Start at home?

The good news is Jesus is alive and well, and our very own homes will go through a seismic transition from tolerance to deep binding love. The good news is that the good news is meant for me and mine as well as for everyone else in the world.

Sometimes we still don’t believe. But today, on this gorgeous Arizona Easter morning, I do believe! I can see my own transformation and I can see it in those I love and in those I don’t know too well. And I’m sure it matters to the world, and to me.

He has risen! He has risen indeed!

Holy Thursday

Holy Thursday. Maundy Thursday. The Last Supper. Titles we use to describe this day.

This morning I was aware of the sacredness of the last time the disciples were to share a meal with Jesus, the one they had chosen to follow. The only thing is, they didn’t know it was their last meal. They ate, and laughed, and relaxed around the table as if they had a forever of meals before them. They joked, and recalled some recent moments, and of course, listened up every time Jesus spoke out. And he had some things to say…and they heard them, but did not understand. They didn’t know what he meant about the bread and wine being his body and blood. Where did that come from? And when he said he wouldn’t eat again until everything was fulfilled, they wondered about whether he was about to enter another 40-day fast. And when he pointed out that one of them would betray him, they rallied with self-doubt and finger-pointing. I imagine it was, to them, just another meal with Someone they didn’t quite understand.

And so they left the meal unaware of the importance of this moment. Clueless to the limited time they had with Him. Certainly, they left the meal without knowing the world would be remembering that meal even up to the year 2015.

And I feel the same sometimes. Clueless. Unaware. Unknowing. The story lives in me, and yet I still don’t fully get it. A simple meal shared among friends on a Holy Day, which becomes the Holy Communion that sustains my faith today, on Holy Thursday. I can’t explain why. But I can tell you when I take Communion, I remember that they didn’t get it either, and yet that sharing of bread and cup sustained the disciples through some pretty tough days to come.

And today, it sustains us too. We don’t know what’s ahead. We just know we will make it somehow because all our meals are holy, sacred, nourishing, spiritual moments with God in Jesus Christ. And that what our brains can’t fathom, our spirits call “home.” May your Holy Thursday be a connecting point to the One who loves you more than you can know…