Vision, Mission, Storytelling, & Hope

Dear Friends,

I see a church with a vision
I see a church on a mission.
I see a church who has made her mind up,
and she’s building her hopes on things eternal.
She’s holding to God’s unchanging hand.

The person who wrote those words is Rev. Bill Thomas. They come from a song he composed and wrote that is included in Chalice Praise. Bill Thomas was also one of the leaders at our region’s Annual Meeting at Asilomar this past weekend and is a talented musician, actor, and preacher. The other two leaders, no less talented, were Laura & Rick Hall. All three, Bill, Laura, and Rick, are part of the Church of the Valley, a DOC congregation in Van Nuys, CA.

Stories were much in evidence throughout the weekend: Laura’s journey into Christianity; Rick’s acting out a tale about his Baptist preacher grandfather; and Bill recounting his voyage from Ohio to New York to Los Angeles all in the context of the question “why me” based on an encounter he had with a pastor following a conference.

All three leaders knew the value of story and didn’t hesitate to use the power of story to get across thoughts and ideas about the church and what a life of faith might and can look like.

Are we a church with a vision? Is Chalice on a mission? Do we know that the power of story is going to help us build our hopes on things eternal?

Silence...not telling our stories...tells an even louder story; it is a story of our reluctance to share with others the Good News that is ours to tell. And really, who’d want to be involved with a church like that?

Yes, it is God who guides and holds our future. But to hold onto God’s unchanging hand, we have to reach up and grasp that sacred hand and then tell the story of the guidance and care God’s hand give us.

Peace,
Gerry

(Picture and text © Gerry Brague)

Regional Annual Meeting

Asilomar Trio,
originally uploaded by revger.

This week there is no sermon because I was attending the 155th Annual Meeting of the Christian Church of Northern California-Nevada. This is the regional expression of our denomination, the Disciples of Christ. We have about 70 congregations in our region and once a year we gather at Asilomar, the state-run conference center in Pacific Grove. It's a beautiful setting and about 350-400 of us were there. There are several worship services, workshops (I actually co-led one this year rather than going to any), meetings, and just plain running into folks, many of whom I see once a year.

Our presenters this year were excellent: Rick & Laura Hall and Bill Thomas, all of The Church of the Valley in Van Nuys, CA led us in worship and music. They are extremely talented and thoughtful people. The music they brought to us (both Laura & Bill are musicians; Rick is an actor) and the stories of their own lives were inspiring and challenging. Bill especially challenged us in regards to the vote in California regarding same-sex marriage and wondered how God could ever not sanction and love the love between two people, whatever their gender.

This picture, by the way, is of the three of us from our congregation who were there for the weekend. Allen, Ann, & I (along with Loma, who came down for the day) each came away with some new thoughts.

When things go wrong -- Newsletter article for the week of 12 April

Christ Candle,
originally uploaded by revger.

Dear Friends,

I was a bit flustered. Could you tell? Did you see perhaps a bit of a nervous twitch or my growing anxiety?

Everything was all set for the Easter service:

• the worship service was done in time for the deadline to have it copied
• the computer slide show finished and polished
• compatibility with the UCC’s church’s projector was confirmed
• my remote slide advance clicker worked from the back of the church

It was all in place.

Or so I thought. Those of you who were in worship saw that, even though my remote clicker had worked just fine moments before the service, during the opening parts of the worship, it was reluctant and obstreperous. Then of course, the connection with the projector kept failing and when I thought I was advancing the slides, I really wasn’t. And then there were the times the screen just turned purple. Argh!

So my nervousness increased & I grew increasingly embarrassed as each techno-glitz came roaring down the cables at me. Until…

Well, until I realized it was just fine. Even when the acclamation of Christ’s resurrection hadn’t gone as I planned, Christ was still raised. Even when the screen in front didn’t match what was on my computer at the time, we still sang praises to a God who comes and walks among us. Even if the Table collapsed right before us, my computer had burst into flames and the piano had sprouted wings and flown away (they didn’t, by the way), we would still have shared the meal together and been the blessed community that God calls us to be.
In spite of our best plans, not because of them, we praise God and give thanks for the community of faith that surrounds us.

Christ is risen! Alleluia!

Peace,
Gerry

Picture and text © Gerry Brague

Easter Sunday!

Responding to Resurrection
Mark 16:1-8

[I'm not preaching a sermon today. Instead, I'm doing an interactive sermon with the congregation. Here are some thoughts and questions for you to ponder.]

Mark's gospel ends abruptly. We read that Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, & Salome came to the tomb where Jesus had been laid following his crucifixion just days before and when they got there the stone was rolled away. A "young man" told them that Jesus was not there; that he had risen. He then instructed the women to go and tell the disciples. (Never mind that the women were "disciples.") According to Mark, they ran away in fear and told no one. And that's where Mark's gospel ends; in fear and silence. (There are two other endings of Mark's gospel that have the resurrected Jesus making an appearance and the women telling the story. But this abrupt, fearful, silent ending is considered to be Mark's original ending; it is older and more verified.)

Why do you suppose the women were afraid? Of what were they afraid? Of whom? Why did Mark leave us hanging there? What were the women feeling? How did those feelings affect their actions?

Given Mark's ending, the telling of the story is left to us, the reader. So we join with those of the Christian faith throughout the centuries who have read Mark's gospel, ending in fear and silence. How are we to pick up the instruction of the young man to "go, tell"? Is it our charge now to go forth and tell the story of resurrection, rebirth, & renewal? How can we tell the story? St. Francis is quoted as saying, "Always preach the gospel. Use words when necessary." How can we tell the story of resurrection without words? How do we overcome our fear & amazement and cajole ourselves into telling the story to those around us, our fellow 21st century dwellers? What story would you tell about resurrection?

Many blessings to you on this Easter 2009! Tell the story...take up the charge to the two Marys and Salome.

© Gerry Brague, 12 April 2009
Picture © Allen Foster, 10 April 2009
San Francisco, CA

Do This--Communicate! Newsletter Article for the Week of 5 April 2009

On Sunday, at the meeting of the elders following worship, one of the elders said something along the lines of, "it all boils down to communication." I almost jumped out of my seat applauding that statement. I have said several times that communication is key in a congregation our size. There must be free, two-way communication that is honest and loving.

At Chalice, we communicate in a variety of ways: some formal (like this newsletter); some informal (those chats that are happening all around Mahany Hall as we take down our worship space). Sometimes communication occurs in ways that we don't even realize: the way a word is spoken; body language; the tone of our voice; an look in the eye. Even as one who loves the written word, I recognize its limitations because those elements are missing.

But oral or written, we communicate by what we say (or write) and by what we don't say. An unanswered email can make someone wonder whether they've caused offense or is the other person just busy. Lack of a response to a request can indicate a lack of interest...or is it just someone being overwhelmed.

Reading through the gospel accounts, Jesus was sometimes clear in his communications with his disciples and sometimes more cryptic. Some of the words that are attributed to him leave us scratching our heads; we feel like we're missing something. What could that parable mean? Why did he teach that? Often, indeed, we have missed some important background cultural information that is unrecoverable after more than 2,000 years.

At other times Jesus was clear: "Do this," he said on occasion. In fact the word "maundy" comes from the Latin "mandatum" which means "command." (Can you see how the two words intertwine?) On Maundy Thursday, that original Maundy Thursday just prior to his arrest and crucifixion, Jesus said "do this" a few times. Probably, most of us think of that meal that he instituted and told his disciples, including disciples for ages hence encompassing us in that commandment to eat the bread, drink the wine, remember me.

But Maundy Thursday's "do this" extends also to that surprising, turn-everything-upside-down tale when Jesus--the teacher, the leader--took a bowl and a towel and washed the feet of his followers. It was an apple cart upset sort of moment. But not only did Jesus get down on his knees and provide the expected hospitality of the day, he then told the disciples (again that includes us) that they were supposed to do the same thing: wash the feet of those who are "beneath" you; serve each other regardless of status; take care of the least of these. "Do this...do this," Jesus said.

That sort of communication is unequivocal; we can't argue it. How are you going to "do this"?

Pace e Bene,
Gerry

photo & text © Gerry Brague

End of Lent--Newsletter article for 29 March 2009

With silent steps
We tiptoe our way toward the end of Lent
As we peek over our shoulders to see
The weeks that have brought us here
Weeks of searching
Days of journeying
Hours of anticipation
Leading to this time we dare to approach
In awe and reverence
At the message we know is to come
At the tale told countless times in our life
Yet always hauntingly new
Of human inhumanity toward a divinely-wrapped human one
(Or is it a humanly-wrapped divine one?)
Of pain and anguish and fear and desire
To remove a cup
While there on a Table is
A cup reserved
For us
Some bread set aside
For us
By one who now bleeds and is broken
As we ourselves would bleed and break

Pace e Bene,
Gerry

Oops--Sorry--I forgot to post this earlier this week when I did the newsletter.
©Gerry Brague

This week, there really isn't a sermon. The video above is what I offered for the gospel scripture reading, Mark 11:1-11 (even though the title leaves off a 1). I'm not sure how the resolution came out...I hope you can read the words and see the pictures. If not, I apologize. I've had a lot of trouble uploading it for some reason. (I do wish I understood a little of this...)

Blessings for Holy Week.

PS--If you'd like a Quicktime file emailed to you or a MPEG file, email me or leave a comment here. It would be a bigger file, but easier to see, I imagine.