Sunday, April 8, 2012
Holy Covenant UMC
Rev. Matthew Johnson, preaching

Luke 24:1-12

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

“Their words struck the apostles as nonsense, and they didn’t believe the women.”

When I was in the 5th grade, I got my first watch … at least it was my first watch that didn’t come by way of cereal boxtops. It was one of those Swatch watches that were all the rage at the time. Many of my friends had them … in fact they each had many of them. It was the height of fashion then to wear as many of them as you could.

At $35 each in 1985, they were hardly toys. But it wasn’t uncommon to see children with a couple hundred dollars worth of them on their arms. I was fortunate enough to receive one of them. I did a great deal of persuading to convince my mother that it would be a wise investment. They were precise Swiss movements, I’d say. I could be more responsible if I had a more accurate timepiece, I’d argue. Of course, looking back now, I don’t believe my mother really cared about those things. When she took me to the store to pick out that watch, she did it because she loved me. She knew that my brothers and I didn’t ask for much. And, unless it was from our grandparents, we got even less.

So when we were at the mall … in Marshall Fields, I believe … I knew it was a very special thing. And when I got my to make my choice from all the watches that were in the case, I choose the one that was the most special and unique … the one that was unlike any that my other classmates had. I remember it vividly. It had a white case and bands. The face had colorful dots on it the size of pinheads. The hands were green and red. I even got some of those goofy rubber-band things they sold you to prevent scratches in yellow and blue.

I wore it to school every day for a couple of weeks and was constantly fussing around with it. I took it off occasionally to change the those rubber bands. I should have known better, I suppose. Because in was in a moment like that when it got stolen off my desk. I was mortified. That watch was so more more than a thing … it was a symbol of love and trust. And it was gone. Later that afternoon, I saw it on the wrist of another boy. It had joined the many that he was already wearing. I told my teacher and she sent us both to the principal’s office to sort things out. I had never been to the principal’s office before, so I was very frightened by this.

The administrative assistant ushered us in and shut the door behind us. The principal sat us down around a conference table, which my classmate promptly put his elbows on, showing off all the watches (mine included) and tapping his fingers together together in a sort of rhythmic arch-villain style taunting.

“I was just taking it back, because he stole it from me,” my classmate said. I was dumbstruck. “It is my watch,” I replied. I pointed out my initials on the battery cover. He rebuked it, said it wasn’t an “MJ” at all … rather a candy cane and his last initial, denoting it was his Christmas gift. “It is my watch,” I said again. There was less confidence in my voice. It was at this time that the weight of it all seemed to overcome me. My lip began to quiver, and my eyes welled up with tears. “It is my watch,” I said one last time.

“I don’t believe you,” the principal said to me. “You’re too emotional to be telling the truth. Criers are liars,” she said. She called my classmates mother, who confirmed his story (and with as many watches as he had, how could she keep track). “Tell your father I’ll see him at the school board meeting next week,” the principal said to my classmate as he left with a big smile on his face. As an educator, she should have known better, but I never got my watch back. Instead, I got my name on the board and a “Feel fortunate that I didn’t suspend you” from the principal.

“Their words struck the apostles as nonsense, and they didn’t believe the women,” Luke writes. I remember that watch every time I read these words. I can empathize with the women. I get what it is like to not be believed. I get what it is like to have someone tell you that what you know as truth is, instead, nonsense. I got a glimpse of what it is like to have people distrust you because of who you are, or rather who you are not.

When I read this passage from Luke, I imagine the women returning to the place where they had all gathered on Friday evening, out of breath from running; eyes swollen from days of mourning; hearts racing because of what their discovery might mean; and tongues stuck to the tops of their mouths by the gravity of what they have to say.

“He is not there. He lives again! This is what he said would happen,” they explain. “We were together when he said it. Don’t you remember?” The men then, I’m sure, scoffed “We’d know if he was raised. Remember, we were the ones who he was actually teaching.”

“Nonsense,” they say. “We don’t believe you.”
(more…)

This week, as we face the stark reality of the cross and all trauma that leads to it, I cannot help but be pained by the violence in this story of our faith. I want to wish it away. I want to edit it, offer amendments and caveats. I want to ease the pain I have with all the pain Jesus bears. But then I look at the news reports and see the number of shootings that have happened in Chicago in recent days; and I see friends and neighbors marching to remember the 632 youth who have died in violent crimes here since 2008; and I hear stories from others who are welcoming home their loved ones who have been surrounded by death in Afghanistan and don’t know how to deal with it.

It pains me to admit it, but violence is a reality. And there is nothing redemptive about it. If we say so, we justify the murder of someone’s child. And we do. I hear it all the time from the lips of seemingly kind and rational people. They say “God needed another angel” (or some other load of bull) to clear their conscience when trying to console a parent. “At least she died for a good cause,” they say to the family of a fallen soldier. I feel like we say these things because of the Christian ethos around resurrection. We believe that the possibility of life after death outweighs the trauma of having this life ripped away.

The cross of Jesus should not lifted by us for this purpose. And the empty tomb should not make us give up on ending the reality of violence. For God has lived it and abhors it. God has been there, not to redeem it, but to bring an end to it. The power of the gospel is in this: that death — and the violence that comes with it — will someday be forgotten. That is part of the reign of God that can’t come soon enough, because the tombs are full and the tears are fresh.

Come, Christ Jesus. Make your new life our reality. And show us how to make it forever.

Enduring with you,

Pastor Matthew

Get these reflections and more in our weekly eNewsletter

As the challenging season of Lent continues to lead us to the cross, I find it hard not to get caught up in the story of Jesus and his times of trial. I am overcome with the love he displays and shares; a love that leads him to death. But I am also overcome by how that love leads him then to a new life that is beyond what I can imagine; a life resurrected. That resurrected life gives me hope for my tomorrow and that of our community. Thank you for being an important part of a community that lives in that hope all week long!

Hope Is Alive at Holy Covenant!
Over the past four months, we worshiped every Sunday; come snow, ice, the Superbowl, or the Academy Awards, we still gathered to praise God for the wondrous gift of our life together and be challenged to live into our mission. We welcomed the Beatles into our sanctuary in a worshipful manner that had leaders in churches 100 times our size saying they couldn’t have done as well. Almost 300 people worshiped with us for their first time. We shared nearly 75 loaves of communion bread, most of which were baked in our community’s kitchens. We added a Wednesday night worship service.

More than 100 small group, education, and fellowship meetings happened in that time with well over 900 in total attendance. We welcomed two new staff members who have committed themselves to the community from day one. From early morning coffee to the twilight pub gatherings, our congregation made a public witness to our mission all day and then some.

We shared our building with the community to help with addiction recovery. It has also been an inspiring space for rehearsals and performances of critically acclaimed theatre. Through our mission team and our partners at Dignity Diner and Humboldt Park Social Services, we prepared and served more than 1,200 meals. Through your donations, we purchased tables that will allow us to share hospitality with more Dignity Diner guests. We wrote a stack of letters to General Conference delegates. We collected books by the boxful for our city’s underserved youth. We gave nearly $9,000 to local and international mission projects.

This is who we are. Together, we share stories. Together, we share life. Together, we live in grace. And we experience the joy of resurrection again and again. And this is all because of the generous grace God placed in your heart to be a steward of our mission, vision and ministry. Thank you for helping to make all this possible.

Looking Forward
We entered 2012 cautiously optimistic about what the year could hold. We crafted a budget that was both faithful and frugal, allowing us to operate a whole congregation at costs lower than many Lincoln Park household incomes. While our income is less than expected at this point in time, I and your volunteer leadership believe we can overcome this shortfall. Whether you are a part of a long-time pledging household, new or renewed in your pledging, or a sporadic giver, your contributions are the lifeblood of our shared ministries and faithful witness to Chicago and beyond. And, If you are not currently giving in a planned way, we want to take this opportunity to encourage you to do so. There is still time to have a big impact on 2012. With just eight new pledges of $100 per month or more our deficit will be covered!

Beyond the Pledge
We are not opposed to one-time gifts. In fact, there are many times throughout the year when ideas and programs develop that are not included in our budget. I encourage your leadership and staff to dream dreams and see visions, but we don’t always have a way to pay for the gifts of their imaginations. If you’d like to get behind one of these start-ups, contact us for a list of the opportunities that are waiting for a partner like you to make happen.

One pressing issue we face right now is funding a sum of $29,000 that your leadership built into the budget to prevent reductions in the kind and frequency of ministry you enjoy. By and large, this amount funds the salaries of your staff and the amazing work they do in music leadership, small group organization and administration. Regardless of your current giving status, I would ask that you please consider making a one-time contribution of $200 or more to this special effort. Emily and I will be doing so in addition to our tithe. If every Holy Covenant household does so, we will raise DOUBLE that amount. Think about all the ministry we could do with an additional $29,000!

Below you will find a form by which you can designate a special one-time gift, make a pledge toward the 2012 general budget, or increase your current pledge. Simply print it out and bring it into church or drop it in the mail. You may also set up electronic giving and share your gifts online.

I hope you will prayerfully consider how you are being called to serve and act as a steward of God’s gifts this spring, and I look forward to continuing the blessed work of sharing in your faith journey. What a joy it is to live in a community that has been given so much, and to participate in a congregation that has so much to give! I thank God and you for both.

Yours in Christ,

Pastor Matthew

YES! I want to share what God has given me to further the mission of HCUMC!

Enclosed you will find my gift of:
[ ] $500
[ ] $300
[ ] $200
[ ] Other $_______

I would like to increase my pledge by
[ ] $100/week
[ ] $50/week
[ ] $25/week
[ ] Other $______

I am not currently pledging but would like to begin! Please accept this first installment of my pledge for:
[ ] $200/week
[ ] $150/week
[ ] $100/week
[ ] Other $____

Sunday, April 1, 2012
Holy Covenant UMC

Holy Covenant celebrated Palm Sunday with a dramatic reading of the passion story.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

The Supper – Mark 14:10-26

The Garden – Mark 14:27-50

The Trial – Mark 14:53-72

Before Pilate – Mark 15:1-20

The Cross – Mark 15:21-47

Readers:
Ginny Dickman-Lopez
Nora Kahn
Kristin Kumpf
Candie ODell
Rob Rawls
Mathew Schramm
Amy Schumacher
Polly Toner

Matthew 9:2-13

²And just then some people were carrying a paralyzed man lying on a bed. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Take heart, son; your sins are forgiven.”³Then some of the scribes said to themselves, “This man is blaspheming.”⁴But Jesus, perceiving their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil in your hearts?⁵For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and walk’?⁶But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins” —he then said to the paralytic—’stand up, take your bed and go to your home.”⁷And he stood up and went to his home.⁸When the crowds saw it, they were filled with awe, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to human beings.

What really stuck out to me was the commentary about forgiveness – what is easier, healing a paralyzed man or forgiving someone? Sometimes I feel that asking for the impossible – healing a paralyzed man – would be easier than forgiving someone. Recently, the mother of one of the children who was killed in a school shooting in Ohio went on the news to let the shooter know she has forgiven him. Easy as that. I am not sure that I would have come to the same conclusion so quickly. I’m not a parent, but I think this would be extremely difficult. But Jesus’ love is so strong, forgiveness is as easy for him as making a paralyzed man walk. I can’t make a paralyzed man walk, but I can forgive. Forgiveness is not impossible. It’s not a miracle. It comes from God’s love. It is something we can all learn to give as willingly and freely as Jesus. Jesus shared his love and forgiveness with those who needed it most: those who others condemned because of their disability, those who had an unpopular job, those who sinned.  This Lent I will try to be more forgiving, to try to be more loving. Really stop and take a minute to consider what the other person has gone through, where they are coming from and give them love first.

Love,

Casey Kelley

Luke 9: 43-45

43While everyone was marveling at all that Jesus did, he said to his disciples, 44“Listen carefully to what I am about to tell you: The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men.” 45But they did not understand what this meant. It was hidden from them, so that they did not grasp it, and they were afraid to ask him about it.
___________

The other day, I received an email from Carole, the volunteer coordinator who works with the hospice organization I volunteer for.

“Mathew,” she wrote, “I attended a patient review meeting today and the medical staff feels that your patient is severely declining. They are not optimistic that he has much longer and may soon be actively dying, so if you have a chance to visit, don’t wait.”

A week prior, I nervously walked into Jim’s nursing home bedroom. I introduced myself, explained why I was there, and asked if I could visit with him for a while. He smiled and nodded his head, so I dragged a chair up to the side of his bed, then sat as we talked together about the pictures of his wife he had pinned to the wall. Afterwards, we watched the news then talked about his love for all sports. But then Jim asked me a question that I wasn’t expecting. He said, “How does it feel to be sitting in that chair instead of lying in this bed?”

Like the disciples in this passage in Luke, I was afraid to answer him because I was worried my answer would seem insincere or tactless.

So we sat in silence as I avoided his question and Jim fell asleep.

A week later, after reading Carole’s email, I decided to visit Jim immediately after I left work.

He looked drastically different.

He was asleep and clearly in pain as he groaned with the exhale of every short breath. Again, I dragged the chair across his room and sat down, but this time it was like sitting with someone I’d never met. His body ached. He was uncomfortable. Then, after I sat for a few minutes in silence, Jim woke up and stared at me for a few seconds with wide open eyes. He adjusted his blanket, placed his hands on his lap, and fell peacefully into deep, much quieter sleep.

So, how did I feel to be sitting in that chair?

After many frustrating months I finally understood and was comfortable with just sitting with someone, being with someone who was dying so they know they’re not alone. It was such a special moment to be with Jim in his preparation for the mysterious journey to the other side of life.

Sometimes we get caught up in thinking we need to take action and do something in order to make a difference. The truth is, you should trust that you are enough and that you don’t need to be doing something in order to share your Christian compassion.

In other words, while action is, of course, vitally important to our Christian identity, it doesn’t do much if we can’t be with our Christian identity. We might feel better by giving someone a book to read, or cooking a meal for the hungry, but maybe what someone really needs is to sit and be heard.

God certainly knows how important that is because, as Luke wrote, God lived it.

by Matthew Schramm

Optimism can be annoying. I know this, because I have annoyed many people with mine. When I began my term as a hospital chaplain, I found myself spouting off trite phrases like “You are not alone in this,” and “God will comfort you in your time of need.” I didn’t say these things because I was necessarily convinced of them, but because they were what I thought people wanted or needed to hear – in reality, it probably made them feel guilty. Then I encountered a few patients who had no interest in hopeful truisms and who, I would venture to say, were just being honest. These were my teachers.

And thank God! Because how can we find truth and meaning in Christian theology when only one side of our human experiences is validated?

Lent and Holy Week give us an opportunity to be honest. Jesus cried out from a place of complete despair, “Father, why have you forsaken me?” Some might read this as an expression of doubt; this is not one of those phrases that prefigures or assumes the resurrection. And if I’m being honest, this is the one phrase in the Bible that perhaps draws me closest to Jesus and makes my heart break for him. In other words, it makes me love him more.

So the question that I am keeping this week is, can we sit with the pain, the fear, the trauma, and the discomfort without attempting to resolve them? Palm Sunday is just around the corner, and Easter is close on its heels, but there is a darker, less optimistic bit in between.

Must we always read resurrection into death? Perhaps it happens precisely when we do not expect it. On Friday, April 6th, I hope that some of these questions will come to life as we sit together in grief and bewilderment over the death of our messiah. The church calendar promises to spoil the sequence of events – you may notice that we are, in fact, celebrating Easter on April 8th – but on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday let us gather together as if we do not know what’s coming. The surprise will be that much sweeter, and the miracle of resurrection that much more amazing!

Peace and endurance,

Nora

Get these reflections and more in our weekly eNewsletter

Thai Super Slam Chili
By Matt Kuzma

Stock pot, medium heat

Add 2 packs of fake ground beef crumbles (12 oz. each) – The kind in the refrigerated case near the organic veggies and tofu
In food processor, puree 4-5 stalks celery, 4-5 carrots, 1-2 shallots or 1/2 onion, add to pot
Process 6-7 fresh Roma or 1-2 regular tomatoes, add to pot
Add 1 can of corn
Add 1 can or 2 cups cooked kidney beans
Add 4 Tbsp Pensey’s “Garam Masala” spice mix or similar curry spices – Don’t be stingy on the spice. You should smell the spice wafting out of the pot.

Cook for 10 minutes and stir so the spice gets into the beans and meat thoroughly

Add 1 can light coconut milk
Add 1 plateful of cooked, chopped pad thai noodles

Bring to light bubble, reduce heat and cover, simmer for 60-90 minutes.

Serve in bowl, garnished with crushed spicy peanuts and Sriracha to taste

Sunday, March 25, 2012
Holy Covenant UMC
Rev. Matthew Johnson, preaching

Luke 15:11-32

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

“I get in trouble for being honest. Sometimes I think I should lie.” This is what an acquaintance of mine named Joe told me after he’d been turned down for another job.

“They say I’m too big of a risk; that they don’t know what would happen if they let me in.” He had been applying for work every day for almost a year, and the answer was usually something similar. This particular time it was to work the overnight shift at a supermarket in the small town where he lived. He is trying to be responsible. He is trying to participate in culture. But it is difficult. He wants the supplement the support he is receiving from his parents, but no one will hire him — even to do the most basic things. All the “no’s” are making him quite desperate.

You see, Joe is being treated for schizophrenia, and he is up front with the interviewers regarding his condition. “Maybe you could forget to tell them once and see what happens,” I said … trying to be supportive. “I’m not always right,” he said, “I think it is only fair that they know that.”

“But you are much better than you were just a year or so ago,” I said. “You and the doctors are trying … is there nothing redemptive about that?” He shrugged and changed the subject. Obviously, the string of rejections wasn’t helping his mental state, nor was it helping his desire to be re-incorporated into the community where he grew up.

He hadn’t always been this way … or at least it wasn’t quite as pronounced. When he was much younger, he played on that supermarket’s little league team; he was invited into the homes of his neighbors to play with their children. He bought dime candy in their downtown. He rode his bicycle on their streets. He was named prince of the annual summer festival.

And then something just seemed to snap. His parents didn’t know what to do with him. He had become angry, unhappy and lethargic. He didn’t come out of the basement for days. He finally said “I want to go live with grandma.”

So he packed up what he had and went west. But grandma couldn’t handle him any better than his folks. He got into drugs and lost his job. Grandma kicked him out of her house, so he started living in his car at state parks. For the better part of two years, he wandered the backwoods of America until he ended up back in his hometown.

By that point Joe was practically unrecognizable. He was unkempt, unclean and kept talking to himself. Rumors quickly swirled through town that there was a crazy terrorist living in his car planning on blowing up the old steel bridge just outside of town.

A couple of weeks later, his folks saw him drive by. They were elated and frightened as his white Chevy Cavalier drove by with a backseat piled with clothes and garbage. They were elated because they had assumed the worst … that he had killed himself, died of an overdose, or was the victim of some truck-stop assailant.

They were frightened because they didn’t know what to do. The invited him back to his boyhood home and spent most nights in tears because they didn’t know how to communicate with him. He was lost somewhere in his own mind … he was incapable of talking about anything with his family.

It took a while, but he was finally diagnosed with schizophrenia and began treatment. He has now done and is doing everything he can to become part of his town again, but his everything is evidently not enough.

After my conversation with Joe, I began doing some soul searching of my own … “What kinds of things would I hide in order to be accepted? In what situations would I be completely honest and risk getting hurt in the process?”

The even harder question was: “If he wasn’t already close to me, would I allow him to enter into my circle? Would I give him a job? Would I be seen with him at a restaurant or a high school basketball game? Would I invite him to my home?” (more…)

The time is coming, declares the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah. I will put my instructions within them and engrave them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people. They will no longer need to teach each other to say, “Know the Lord!” because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord; for I will forgive their wrongdoing and never again remember their sins. — Jeremiah 31:31-34 (Common English Bible)

As this season draws me closer to the cross, this is a passage of scripture I often return to when I need strengthened and humbled. Per usual, Lent is making me realize I can’t do life on my own. And I especially can’t do faith on my own. I struggle to carve out time to be a better leader, parent and spouse. I get pulled away from what I should do in my work and relationships to try and save the remnants of what was or could have been. I fail to trust that God is doing something new. And I fail to remember that new thing will likely come with a little pain.

“The time is coming,” Jeremiah declares on behalf of God. A new covenant is coming about, and it won’t be one that comes from the outside. It won’t be on tablets and in religious practices. And you won’t be able to mark yourselves anymore to know who’s in or out. When the time comes, God will do marking on the hearts of humanity. God says, “I’ll put my law in you. I will carve my righteousness into you so it can never go away. You won’t escape it and I won’t let you go. The time is coming.”

So much of modern Christianity seems to be various adventures in missing the point, and my failed Lent practices remind me of this. Faith in Jesus has little to do with us, and even less to do with what we do. It is all God’s grace; every bit of life and anything good that can come of it. While it frustrates me that often it takes sinking into my own anxiety to see grace, I am thankful that God continues to remind me of it. And I am hopeful that in this God-declared “new time” there will be relief for us all.

Any future where justice is the norm and love is the default is dependent on God to bring about a new time. It is dependent on a universal forgiveness and the gift of love that transcends all the separation created by us in the name of God for our own purposes. That future is emerging all around us if we choose to see it, because it has been carved into our hearts by grace. Resurrection points to this reality.The covenant that is to be written on our hearts is a reunification of love where heaven and earth meet and embody the Reign of God in full force … an occupation of creation that will be unlike anything we dare speak aloud, but for which we all secretly long. And the occupation will come here … to the new earth … the place where we can all finally live as intended when we were created.

“I will be their God, and they will be my people.” Not some will be. They will be. Everybody gathered around that table, feasting together to celebrate the grace that has been given without frugality to all people. Men, women, gay, straight, young, old, poor, rich, healthy, ill, strong, tired, happy, depressed or whatever other monikers we use to identify with and separate ourselves from others will all be abandoned for who we are in grace: forgiven and beloved.

The time is coming. It is on the way and it is here. And it is all in the hands of God.

Peace and endurance,
Pastor Matthew

Get these reflections and more in our weekly eNewsletter