Last Wednesday, before Vespers, we held a meal for those at Holy Covenant who had just finished final exams of various sorts. Our hope was to offer sustenance and to celebrate the completion of good, hard work by young, strong minds. As we pulled chairs around the great new tables in the gallery, though, it was a small crowd. I joined Emily and Libby Johnson and Ann Hillman (hoorah!) at the table. Our other students continue to have busy and unpredictable schedules!

After a few minutes, we heard footsteps and looked up expecting to see another of our scholars, but in walked Kokomo Joe with a big smile and stage hands. He joined us at the table and the conversation became a bit livelier, with a lot more rhyme. Once Joe was settled and we began to eat our meal, another gentleman appeared in the Gallery. Pete was one dollar short on his CTA card and needed to get back to Hyde Park after a long day’s work. I just happened to have a few extra dollars on my pass left over from “Friday Free Grace for All.” As I searched my bag for the card, we showed him all of the extra lasagna and pizza (we planned for 10) and invited him to join us for a meal. After a bit of hesitation, he, too, pulled up a chair. I was smiling to myself recalling words from Field of Dreams, “If you build it, they will come.” If you cook it…

Just then, there were more footsteps in the sanctuary. I walked around the corner hoping to greet someone who had come early for Vespers; Pastor Matt was close behind me. It was there that we met Gene. You may have gotten to know Gene, short for Eugene, from Matt’s sermon on Sunday. A new resident of his retirement facility, Gene had wandered too far and was very lost and very tired. While we contacted the staff at his home, Gene, too, joined the table for some dinner. He especially liked Emily’s key lime pie and requested the recipe.

We talked about music, construction work and publishing for Steven King. We chatted about growing up in the Chicago area, what has changed and what has not. We compared used book stores and musical instruments. It was our own version of the Great Dinner from Luke 14. The intended guests were not available, and so those in need were invited “so that my house may be filled.”

I was touched by the way our best and organized intentions are sometimes replaced through grace by even better outcomes. I felt the privilege of communing with such a diverse and unique gathering of the children of God. I was struck, yet again, by the great potential of this space on Diversey at the El to be a true sanctuary, a safe place, a healing place to share the love of God.

We share the Sacrament of Holy Communion around a fabulous table several times each week. It is a symbolic meal, a tidy meal, pointing us toward God’s grace. For me, this Wednesday night supper was Holy Communion in all its messiness, the passing of drinks and the wiping of spills, the comments about too much green stuff in the food, and the small talk among strangers. I imagine this was a bit more like the meals Jesus shared with his disciples than our formal Sunday rituals. I am confident that Christ was present. God invites all to his table, and gives us the opportunity to do likewise. Let’s keep the invitations coming, and the doors open!

Polly Toner

Ministry Associate

P.S. By the end of the evening, there were not any leftovers!

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I grew up on evangelical praise choruses. I cut my musical teeth playing them at church. As a young adult I found a home in a more liturgical church, and I turned against choruses with a vengeance. I adopted two go-to arguments: worship isn’t about me and my personal-relationship-with-Jesus, and its purpose isn’t to pump me full of arena-rock enthusiasm.

I’m still not a big fan, but I’ve softened a bit on choruses. Time has dulled my reactionary, know-it-all edge. I’m also aware that, while outsiders lob the same old criticisms at praise bands, sharper and more attentive internal critiques have been made and heard–resulting in some better, less individualistic, more substantive songs. Most importantly, I’m less prone these days to speak in restrictive terms about what worship is and isn’t. Instead, a decade of observing the liturgical calendar has formed me to think about worship as rightly containing sharply different ideas at different times–especially as defined by the church year’s cycles of seasons and readings.

So lately, I’ve stopped bemoaning the boyfriend/buddy Jesus of popular evangelicalism and thought instead about how there might be some value there. Some of the time. And expressed through better, less derivative music. While I’ve worked in church music in a wide variety of contexts, I’m fairly new to the idea of repurposing great, nonreligious music for worship. Andrew Collins, of course, is a pro at this–and I’ve been studying his past programming, along with going through my music collection for ideas.

Among other things, I’ve been seeing with fresh eyes the old trope of love songs directed to Jesus. I’m particularly interested in the sad ones, in songs of loss and lament. Maybe because these are a larger departure from the schlocky love-ballad choruses I left behind; maybe just because in general I find sad songs more interesting. But also because this reflects how I experience the life of faith: the highs I experience in community, at times when personal-relationship language seems inadequate. The lows I experience as personal abandonment.

This past Sunday, Matthew preached on my favorite story in the gospels, the road to Emmaus. There’s a lot going on in that story. (Friday night my wife Nadia preached on it and covered none of the same themes Matthew did.) When I read Emmaus, I’m struck by the two disciples’ sense of abandonment. So for offertory at the evening service, Nora, Josh and I played a sad love song, one of Hank Williams’ greatest hits.

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It’s a heartbreaking song. The lyrics reach toward the apocalyptic–dying wildlife, the sky turning colors–but they aren’t anxious or angry, just deeply sad. It’s how I feel when God seems far away.

More and more I’m convinced that the power of worship is its ability to both go to such places and refuse to stay there too long. Like the psalms collected in the Hebrew Bible, Christian worship language can express the whole breadth of our good and bad experiences as the family of God. Perhaps at some point I’ll even find a place for the flimsy puppy love of the most stereotypical praise choruses.

Steve Thorngate
Evening Worship Leader

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Emma CushmanWood is currently a student at DePaul University. She is studying Religious Studies with a concentration in social justice and English with a concentration in Creative Writing. She loves to write poetry, discuss theology and play her baritone saxophone in the DePaul Screamin’ Demons Pep Band. She is president of DePaul Interfaith and DePaul’s chapter of Amnesty International. In her own words, “In my dictionary, the words ‘faith’ and ‘activism’ are one word.” She believes that as a United Methodist, it is her calling to promote peace and secure social justice for all. She is passionate about combining her love for Christ and her love for social change. She believes that Holy Covenant truly lives out its mission–Seek God, Love All People, Change the World. This is Emma’s first church where her father was not the pastor and she is excited to find that Holy Covenant is truly a new spiritual home.

Sunday, May 6, 2012
Holy Covenant UMC
Rev. Matthew Johnson, preaching

Luke 24:13-35

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I’ve often dreamt what it would be like to be in Jerusalem while the events that surrounded Jesus’ death and resurrection unfolded. A few years ago I was having coffee with a biblical scholar and archaeologist and shared that dream with her. She smiled at me and shook her head. “I’d imagine if you were there, you’d describe it as more of a nightmare,” she said with a chuckle.

What she went on to describe made Jerusalem during the Passover festival sound like Lollapalooza, the Marathon, the Pride Parade and Taste all rolled into one. Tight quarters on all the streets and in all the hotels. Markets so full that new merchants would pop up on residential streets to meet the demand of all the pilgrims. The line at the Temple would wrap around its walls. Walking the streets, one would hear many different languages being spoken, representative of all the cultures that the children of Yahweh had adopted as their own since the exile. “It was easily sensory overload, and likely bordered on chaos,” she concluded.

I get the feeling that may be how the two from the story we just heard from Luke’s gospel experienced it. How could they be in a place that was still partying after all that had happened? How could they even imagine celebrating God’s victory for their people when their cause was seeming over, their rabbi dead and his body now missing? While they were likely invited to stay with the other disciples in the city, Cleopas and friend had to put some distance between themselves and this mess.

In Jesus death, Cleopas and friend heard the trumpet call to retreat. Their family lost its lifeblood. The one who sat at the head of their table was gone. They had invested their life in Jesus for almost a year, and they saw all the hope they ever had for freedom and justice in his teachings and actions. They believed they understood their purpose in him. But now, there was no reason to continue the movement. (more…)

As General Conference continues, the theme seems to be that we are not of one mind as a denomination. This is something we are keenly aware of here regarding issues of sexuality and inclusivity, but the divide may be deeper than even we had expected. This was made abundantly clear yesterday morning as an editorial change to the preamble of the United Methodist Social Principles was discussed, debated and voted upon. The language seemed simple enough. It should have been a slam dunk. This is the language the General Conference had before them:

“We affirm our unity in Jesus Christ while acknowledging diversity in applying our faith in different cultural contexts as we live out the gospel. We stand united in declaring our faith that God’s grace is available to all — that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.”

The second sentence, which was offered as an amendment, drew extensive debate. As I watched the streaming broadcast, I couldn’t believe it. “Are were really going to debate grace?” Apparently we were. When it came time to vote on that sentence: … that God’s grace is available to all — that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus … it should have been unanimous. It’s in Romans 8 for Paul’s sake! And our traditions founder, John Wesley, built his whole theology around it.

Yet, nearly 44 percent of the delegates did not believe in prevenient grace enough to include it the preamble. Almost half of us could not agree on grace — what may be the central idea of Wesleyan theology. Thank God for the 56 percent who did get it, but it is obvious we are not of one mind.

I am part of the 56 percent. It is why I am a United Methodist and why I am a Christian at all. I know the same is true for you. And it is all the more important in my mind that we continue to embody in our life together: in our worship, in our study, in our prayer, and in our service. God’s grace is available to all, and that nothing can separate us from it. It is why we are open and affirming to all people. It is why “Love all people” is firmly planted in the center of our mission statement. And as long as we continue to live it, there will be a witness to that truth

We cannot let our absence of apathy let what God is doing here perish. We cannot restrict our stewardship of the property and ministry. Even if grace falls out of favor with the simple majority, we will stand defiant in radical love. After all, that is how Jesus lived. This community, which is all about Jesus, couldn’t do it any other way.

Keep loving, friends. It is the only way.

Pastor Matthew

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Sunday, April 29, 2012
Holy Covenant UMC
Rev. Polly Toner, preaching

John 20:24-31

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Let Us Pray:
Startle us, O God, with your truth,
And open our minds to your Spirit.
That we may be one with Christ our Lord,
And serve as faithful disciples through
Your grace, Amen.

So, our neighbors had lots of thoughts about doubt this week. Enough, in fact, that I could have done an entire sermon series on the topic after chatting with some of them. In the tradition usually attributed to Karl Barth, I am guided in my sermon writing to hold the Bible in one hand and the newspaper, or something like it, in the other. So, looking for the Word out in the World, on Diversey, on Clark Street, and in Tampa, Florida (where the Methodist Church General Conference is taking place) helped me to meet our friend Thomas again this week in today’s scripture. It is with an awareness of the current doubts, fears and anxieties of our community then, that I attempt to join Thomas in that room on that evening so long ago.

I love that we come from a tradition where doubting and questioning the Lord is not only acceptable, it is scriptural. Thomas joins a long list of biblical figures who questioned, argued with laughed at and doubted God. Moses, Sarah, Jacob, and Jonah, even Jesus himself from the cross cried out “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Thomas is not alone in his doubt. And, I am confident that each one of us here joins the enormous cloud of witnesses who have wondered about the Truth, questioned divine omnipotence, disagreed with texts from the Bible, and been frustrated with our brothers and sisters in faith.

In the passage for today, Thomas is with the other disciples; locked into their room “out of fear of the Jews” the text tells us. They are isolating themselves, out of a perceived need for protection. This implies some fear, some anxiety. Twice, in this story in John, Jesus appears to the disciples in this room- and in spite of the doors being locked, he enters. It seems to me, that if Thomas was merely seeking a physical sign that this intruder was in fact Jesus of Nazareth, and that this Jesus was in fact, Lord, then his mysterious ability to pass through the walls might have sufficed.

I suspect though, that Thomas didn’t really need just physical evidence of Jesus’ presence. I think his doubt, his anxiety, was more existential, more all encompassing than a question of “who is the man in the room.” I appreciate Jesus’ compassion and understanding of Thomas’ human doubts and longing for sensory proof- here, see and touch me, put your hand in my side. And, we will return to this in a few moments…

But, Thomas’ questions were likely much deeper, much wider in scope.

He was likely thinking not so much about the MAN in the room- but the proverbial ELEPHANT in the room. Thomas was one of the 12, he had given his life to follow this Jesus, had encouraged the other disciples to follow when they hesitated. He had dedicated his whole being to this Jesus movement. He had been taught of God’s kingdom, of a new kind of faith, a new way of living…and then? Jesus died… ….and now they are alone, in a room, with the doors locked. Now what? What does that mean for me? What is my life’s work if my savior is gone, and perhaps wasn’t even a Lord after all? And all that I believed about the love and forgiveness and grace of God…was that all a farce, too? And what of these 11 men I’m now here with in this room-they are all claiming to have seen dead Jesus alive and in person, of course during that one moment while I happened to be out.

If there is a dark night of the soul, a time of questioning the meaning and purpose of life and of feeling all alone, Thomas had pretty good reason to have a dark night, no? Touching the physical wounds on Jesus’ flesh might have helped convince Thomas that Jesus had risen from the dead…but it still doesn’t answer all the tough questions.

And, it still doesn’t today. In 2012, as we sit in Chicago, praying for our brothers and sisters in Florida and all around the planet, clinging to hope that God’s love and grace will win in the end, we have questions and doubts and fears, too. Jesus died, and rose for us, Easter music still rings in the air- but here we sit still with some pain and some anguish…some directly related to the General Conference going on in Tampa, and the future of the denomination, and our roles in it, some because of the violence and poverty and injustice in the world… and others just because human life is hard. (more…)

Friends, this is an important time for Holy Covenant as the future of our denomination is being discussed, debated and voted upon by delegates from around the world at the 2012 United Methodist Church General Conference in Tampa, Florida. I ask that you please set aside time over the next nine days to be in prayer for all who are there: for the delegates and the lobbyists; for the support and convention staffs; for the worship leaders and the restaurant workers; that all would be moved by the Spirit of God, and that the way of Jesus would be revealed to and through them. Please pray especially for the names below who are there representing us in some fashion. You may do this privately through the spirit in you, but I also invite you to bring your body to pray with others tonight at 7pm in our sanctuary.

Come, Holy Spirit. Set us free by your grace. Set us to proclaim your good news. Set us to work for your mercy and justice. Come, Holy Spirit.

Pastor Matthew

Northern Illinois Conference Delegation and Supporting Staff:
Charla Antrobus
Rachel Birkhahn-Rommelfanger
Lonnie Chafin
Irma Clark
Roger Curless
Daniel Diss
Elisa Gatz
Anne Gerhard
Gregory Gross
Ouk-Yean Kim Jueng
Hee-Soo Jung
Martin Lee
Alka Lyall
Michael Mann
Harriet McCabe
Melissa Meyers
Christopher Pierson
James Preston
Luis Reyes
Jack Ryder
Rita Smith
Tracy Smith Malone
Daniel Viana
Bonnie Beckonchrist
Will Ed Green
Lois Parr
Wendy Witt
Chris Winkler
Katie Voigt

Those Related to the Holy Covenant Community:
David Braden (Reconciling Ministries Network)
Allison Chaplain (Witness)
Britt Cox (Legislative Page)
Lynda Davis (Witness)
Rachel Harvey (Reconciling Ministries Network)
Dale Jones (General Board of Pensions and Health Benefits)
Audrey Krumbach (Reconciling Ministries Network)
Kristin Kumpf (General Board of Church and Society)
Joey Lopez (Delegate, Western North Carolina Annual Conference)
Todd Peacock-Preston (Witness)
Troy Plummer (Reconciling Ministries Network)
Shells Stephens (Reconciling Ministries Network)
Katie Wickman (Witness)

Read more about General Conference Events

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Sunday, April 22, 2012
Holy Covenant UMC
Rev. Matthew Johnson, preaching

John 20:19-23

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About a month ago, I reached the end of everything I could possibly want to watch online through the services to which I subscribe. I saw every movie I wanted to see. I blew through every television series I had any interest in … recent and classic. I watched a few of them multiple times. But now, I am at the end. And I knew the end had come when the only thing they were recommending to me was season upon season of Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers. This has left me in a bit of quandary, though, as these subscription services have been our family TV provider for almost three years. Now, to get my pop culture fix, I am back to buying my video entertainment ala carte. Breaking Bad. Mad Men. And my latest find is The Walking Dead. If you haven’t seen it yet, it is about zombies (and the people who love them). It is one of those shows that I don’t want to watch because it is so frightening, but I can’t stop watching because there are all these beautiful moments of humanity and questions of faith that show up in between.

I can’t stop watching. I watch episodes of it into the wee hours of the morning when all the lights are out (even though it has me jumping out of my seat, and sometimes looking away from what takes place between the redemptive moments). I am four episodes in, and I am beginning to get the feeling that recommendation was right … that I should be watching Power Rangers instead. Because watching all this zombie stuff has got me spooked. Like extra-spicy-food-nightmare kind of spooked.

Over the past week, I have been hyper aware of my surroundings at night. I listen to all the groans that the building makes with more discernment. Shadows that would normally breeze on by now startle me. The creaking of the floor under my own feet makes me turn around more often than I would care to admit. It all prompts me to check the locks on the doors a few times.

“Red Ranger wouldn’t do this to me,” I say, fighting back the urge to scream like a child. But then I press play on another episode, and cue the ominous trilling strings. I fall asleep, only to be awakened by weekend partiers with their drunken shouts. And for a nanosecond, I wonder if they are after my flesh. I check the doors again. I close my eyes, only to be awakened by voices in the silence in between trains. It is murmuring from the upstairs neighbors. It is my daughter talking in her sleep. She’s saying something about the circus. I check the doors again because now they aren’t just zombies anymore. Now they are worse. Now they are zombie clowns.

Your mind can play tricks on you. Especially when you plant things there. It is a fertile place for ideas to grow. Paralysis by thoughts and dreams. Reality triggering archived moments of fantasy, and all of it convincing us to check the doors.

I often wonder if this is really why the disciples had the doors closed in our scripture reading from John. I wonder if the disciples were gathered out of fear of the authorities, like John says, or just fear of their own making.

We join the story on Easter evening … Peter and John have just returned to the upper room after finding the tomb empty. They share what they saw. And as they do so, one by one, the faces of the others 8 lost all their color. A rapid knock at the door sends them all scurrying into the corners. It is Mary.

“I have seen him! I have seen Jesus!” she says from the outside. She had gone mad, they thought.

And they become afraid that the powers which emptied the tomb (whatever powers their imagination dreamt up) might come for them next. So they check the doors, shutter the windows and extinguish the lanterns. They could not face reality. Things were not the way they supposed to be.

This is not the beginning of any Easter evening we know. Instead of running around on a chocolate buzz, making deviled eggs, or dozing on the couch with a half-eaten ham sandwich in their hands, the disciples are in hiding.

The drapes are drawn, nobody has once yet said “he is risen,” or offered up an “Alleluia” or some other exclamation in a foreign tongue. Instead they check the doors. A new day and a new reign has come, but fear has overcome them all.

Now, by forgoing the door altogether and just “appearing” in the middle of them, Jesus doesn’t really help things a whole lot. It is kind of funny that he does that, and then the first words out of his mouth are “Peace be with you.”

Jesus then shows that he is the same. (The holes in his resurrected flesh should be proof enough.) And then he breathes on them. He doesn’t blow air on them like a kid blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. He breathes on them. Think about how close he has to be to do that. Put your hand in front of your mouth and see how close it has to be for you to feel your breath.

And now realities are blurred. What they couldn’t imagine now stood among them. It stood inches from their skin. Not the dead but the living. Not the defeated but the victorious. Not the crushed but the elevated. Not fear but peace. (more…)

Every four years, the global United Methodist Church gathers for General Conference, a two-week legislative event that sets the policy and direction of the church for the upcoming four years. Starting this Sunday, HCUMC is creating space for all to better understand the political dynamics of General Conference 2012 while encouraging intentional prayer and action. As GC2012 occurs, HCUMC hopes to help all be better informed as decisions are made in Tampa, Florida. The great news is you don’t have to travel to Florida to participate! So, please make time to be present for some or all of these events.

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Easter has come….and gone. There is always a bit of let down for me after such a moving and powerful season; I’m often the one to leave the Christmas tree up until almost Valentine’s Day for the same reason.

There is celebration in the resurrection, enough that should keep us singing hosannas all year through, right? But, there’s still that empty tomb. We are now to navigate what God is calling us to do in the world with this Good News this year. And even though we get the message that life and love win in the end, the journey now still has its aches and pains.

Before leaving his disciples, Jesus promised us the gift of the Holy Spirit. Wherever we may find ourselves this week after the hoopla, eggs , candy and music, we can trust that we are not there alone. Prayer is often the way to connect and engage with God’s spirit along life’s journey. I believe that prayer can take infinitely many forms- in words aloud, or silently; prepared and thought out, or a mishmash of what is on our hearts. Prayer can be music, or art, or dance, preaching, reading or the very work that we do. Prayer is often silent. To me prayer is an attitude, a pointing of ourselves toward our maker, our sustainer- I don’t believe there is one correct or proper way to do that.

I was reminded recently that there is no one correct or proper result of prayer, either. In a discussion of her new book, Love Unknown, Ruth Burrows discusses people’s perceived failure at prayer because of a lack of emotional feeling, or an intense psychological experience. Burrows states that if we trust that God is always present and always accessible, and we make an authentic effort to turn toward that God, “how can it matter that we do not feel it is happening.” She reminds us that prayer is essentially “God’s business” not our own, and we must position ourselves open to receive from God, not to control the interaction from our end of the deal. Sometimes prayer is about learning to be quiet and listen. And, Burrows is honest about the wide range of results we might get, “true prayer reveals us to ourselves in our sinfulness and spiritual inadequacy” she continues “and at the same time enables us to accept it humbly and peacefully.”

So wherever your road leads you this week, whether the Alleluia chorus still rings loud in your head, or whether you’re amidst the dark shadows of crosses, may you remember to simply position yourself to receive God’s presence, and trust that God will not show up, for God has been there all along.

Polly Toner
Ministry Associate

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