over and around the rainbow

Every Pentecost I think of Billy Joel’s “We didn’t start the fire.” Sing it with me now:

We didn’t start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world’s been turning
We didn’t start the fire
No we didn’t light it
But we tried to fight it

I will do my best not to bust out in this song during my sermon on Sunday, but I can’t guarantee anything. It’s Pentecost after all. STRANGE THINGS CAN HAPPEN ON PENTECOST!

For example, in Acts chapter 2 we learn that 50 days after Jesus’ resurrection and just a short time after Jesus’ ascension, there was a sound like the rush of a violent wind and what should appear, but divided tongues, as of fire. The people may have tried to fight it, but there was no use because it was about to fill the entire house where they were sitting. More than that, God’s power was being ignited and spread like never before, with no chance of ever putting it out. EVER.

It is this outpouring of God’s power, as of fire, that the church tries to celebrate on Pentecost. I say try because I have been to and led some pretty lame Pentecost services where the main feature was birthday candles and cake. Why candles and cake?  Pentecost is known as the birthday of the church. And so what better way to contemplate this dramatic, strange, messy birth story than by singing happy birthday, blowing OUT candles, and eating cake? I have nothing against cake and candles (the birthday song is another story), but I think we may be missing the mark when our Pentecost celebrations become an overly domesticated and controlled birthday party.

Having said that, we will have candles on Sunday. In fact, we will have enough candles to warrant appointing our worship committee chair as our temporary on call fire chief on Sunday. (He called me this morning to say he would be holding a fire extinguisher during the service and all I could do was sing: We didn’t start the fire; No we didn’t light it; But we tried to fight it.)

Anne Neufeld Rupp

Billy Joel’s song isn’t the only tune on my mind as we approach Pentecost. My go-to Pentecost artist is a woman by the name of Anne. She may not be as famous and fiery as Billy Joel, but she is an artist in her own right. She is much, much more than a one-hit wonder, but she is probably most well known for the hymn text, “Holy Spirit, come with power.”

Anne’s late husband Kenneth was a Rainbow pastor for a short time, so many at Rainbow will remember Anne. I had the good fortune of being her pastor for a short time at Bethel College Mennonite where she is still a member.

I will be sharing a little about Anne on Sunday and yes, we will be singing her masterpiece, Holy Spirit, come with power. 

And so as we prepare to gather for this light-filled service, I share Anne’s spirit-filled words here:

Holy Spirit, come with power, breathe into our aching night. 
We expect you this glad hour, waiting for your strength and light. 
We are fearful, we are ailing, we are weak and selfish too. 
Break upon your congregation, give us vigor, life anew.

Holy Spirit, come with fire, burn us with your presence new. 
Let us as one mighty choir sing our hymn of praise to you. 
Burn away our wasted sadness and en-flame us with your love. 
Burst upon your congregation, give us gladness from above.

Holy Spirit, bring your message, burn and breathe each word anew 
deep into our tired living till we strive your work to do. 
Teach us love and trusting kindness, lend our hands to those who hurt. 
Breathe upon your congregation and inspire us with your word.  

Words: Anne N. Rupp, 1970, (©1970 Anne N. Rupp)

I’ll put Anne up against Billy Joel any day.

Today as I prepare to write a sermon about dandelions and blessings, I share a poem by Denise Levertov. My apologies to those who despise dandelions.

But we have only begun

to love the earth.

We have only begun

to imagine the fullness of life.

How could we tire of hope?

So much in the bud.

How can desire fail?

We have only begun

to imagine justice and mercy

only begun to envision

how it might be

to live as siblings with beast

and flower,

not as oppressors.

Surely our river

cannot already be hastening

into the sea of non-being?

Surely it cannot

drag, in the silt,

all that is innocent?

But yet, not yet

there is too much broken

that must be mended,

too much hurt we have done

to each other

that cannot yet be forgiven.

We have only begun to know

the power that is in us if we

would join

our solitudes in the

communion of struggle.

So much is unfolding that must

complete its gesture,

so much is in the bud.

What follows is a personal reflection that has been in the works for six years and counting. I felt inspired to share it after receiving this beautiful note today at church:

What is important today is that we treasure you, a mother without children. Because that’s exactly what you are, you are a mother, in so many ways. Think about how you serve as a mother to our congregation, the children too, perhaps your friends and family…So even if today you feel sad that nobody is celebrating you today as a mother, I will be happy to tell you that you are wrong. We are.

For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the barren women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’
Luke 23:29

I don’t know the grief that comes with losing a child. I do know the grief that comes with being so-called barren, having never bore a child. I know the grief that comes with aching breasts with no babe to nurse. Month after month after year after year of being childless. Do I feel blessed Jesus? Hardly!

These days I don’t dwell too much on the fact that I’m barren. I still have moments when I long to hold a Ruth/Jesse creation at my breast. I still long to see Jesse with such a creature sitting on his lap as he draws. I still have moments when I wonder what it would be like to feel a life growing, kicking, somersaulting inside of me, being sustained by the life I offer. I still have moments of wondering, always wondering, what might have been.

Many ask me if I feel angry and even more people assume I am angry. Yes, I’m angry at the money lost during infertility treatments, how medications made me feel, and how some doctors and nurses made me feel. I have felt anger toward people who have said or asked insensitive things to me, often having absolutely no idea that they were being insensitive.

During my trip to Palestine/Israel I paid $7 for some fertility oil. I bought it knowing full well that no oil, for whatever the cost, will open my womb. I bought it because I am now on a new search. I’ll call it a search for fertile ground. I am committed more than ever to nurturing life within and around me. I am committed more than ever to seeing my body, and the bodies of others, including the body we call the church as beautiful not barren.

Two days ago I felt the signs. Those signs I have come to know so well. Signs I used to dread. Signs that often sent me into a tailspin of despair, panic and hope mixed together. Swollen breasts, skin break-outs, cramps, bloating, quick, panic-filled trips to the restrooms, spotting, and then, blood. More blood. Another month of hope deferred. Yes, writer of Proverbs, “hope deferred makes the heart sick.”

For so long blood has been something to fear, the enemy, the sign of failure, maybe even loss of life. But tonight, just like last month and the month before, I have seen this monthly visit as a sign of life and vitality. I am a functioning woman who can and does bear life. I do have a family and most days it feels like a holy family of sorts. And I have families within the church who permit, even invite me to hold and bless their children. I get to watch these same children grow and struggle and learn to hope within the struggle and barrenness. Together as a church I hope we will help prepare one another for those days when it feels like the worst is yet to come, or when it feels as though those days have already arrived. All the while, I will continue to pray, and I will continue to follow Jesus in the world as best as I can, limits and all. I will trust that I have fruit to bear in the world, even or especially when the reality of barrenness threatens to overcome us.

Gardens are on my mind this week. Mainly I feel glad that I’m not responsible for one. I have enjoyed gardening in the past and hope to garden more in the future, but right now Rainbow feels like garden enough.

Like a well-tended garden, the church…

• Nurtures a variety of plant/human life
• Discerns what nutrients are needed to sustain abundant life
• Needs tending especially if we don’t want weeds to take over
• Requires muscle and patience, and yes, this means we might feel sore at times
• Likewise, the church experiences set-backs and drought
• And yet we continue to plan, till, plant, weed, water, volunteer, pray, work together, and hope to share in the great harvest

I started thinking about this list last Sunday when I took some Kindergarten-5th graders  across the street to our Rainbow Garden. We took this little garden field trip because every time we celebrate communion (first Sunday of every month), I find a place outside to pour the leftover communion juice. I see this as an opportunity to give thanks for the land and all those who have stewarded it. We also use this as a time to pray for the peace of the people who work, play, and stand on it today.

I was moved by their concentration and the care in which they passed the cup and poured out the juice. Let’s just hope the broccoli likes our leftover juice. And let’s hope that we continue to make this Rainbow garden/community grow more and and more into the likeness of Christ, as we pray and hope for a great harvest of the Spirit.

Lastly, here are some photos of Aaron Barnhart (Happy 50th birthday Aaron!) mixing our prayer bowl prayers into our church compost pile.

As he worked his arm muscles some of us worked our vocal chords and sang “O healing river.” Stanza three goes like this:

Let the seed of freedom awake and flourish,  let the deep roots nourish, let the tall stalks rise. O healing river, send down your waters, O healing river, from out of the skies.

May it be so.

This coming Sunday we will recognize and release our prayer bowl prayers. These are anonymous prayers of the people that will eventually become part of our church garden soil. As we water, weed, and grow plants, let us join in praying that God would work new life among us.

One day I was sitting in a coffeehouse with some fellow pastors from the community. We were wrestling with some issues and failing to reach consensus. “Why not try prayer?” someone asked. I didn’t happen to be in a spirit of prayer and found it ironic that while one man prayed, everyone else in the coffeehouse that day was listening to a recording of Dave Matthews Band singing Where are you going? Here was a group of pastors praying earnestly (at least some were), and lofting above us were the words:

“I am no superman.

I have no answers for you..”

I wondered then as I wonder now: What is prayer? Does prayer really hold the cosmos together? Is prayer, as Thomas Merton believed, “a hidden, secret, unknown stabilizer and compass?” Or is prayer simply a form of talking to oneself? Are there answers “out there.”

“Who has not struggled with the puzzle of unanswered prayer?”, asks Richard Foster. “Who hasn’t wondered how a finite person can commune with the infinite Creator of the universe? Who hasn’t questioned whether prayer isn’t merely psychological manipulation after all? We do our best, of course, to answer these knotty questions but when all is said and done, there is a sense in which these mysteries remain unanswered and unanswerable…”

Prayer alone does not eliminate disease, accidents, or natural disasters. Prayer cannot and does not eliminate our mortality. If prayer doesn’t do these things, than what does it do, if anything?

Some people ask me to pray with/for them and others insist that I do not pray, at least not in their company. Or, as one person put it reluctantly, “You can pray, just please don’t use words.” Some people tell me that their favorite part of the worship service is the prayer of God’s people. Others tell me that prayer might be the one act of worship that makes them the most uncomfortable. I know that many people (sometimes myself included) squirm and get distracted during public prayer, perhaps wishing for a little more Dave Matthews Band.

Yet Sunday after Sunday we gather and some of us pray. Sometimes we use words and sometimes we sit in silence. Sometimes even the pray-ers get distracted and have their doubts about prayer.

Prayer candles at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem

Lately, when we pray as a church I imagine us focusing God’s radiant light and love on the places of woundedness, on our places of toxicity and pain. I imagine us focusing God’s radiant, healing light on communal pain as well–that vast mountain of racial, ethnic, gender, national and world suffering. Does prayer itself move those mountains? I don’t know, and I’m ok with not knowing for now. And perhaps it is really we who move as a result of prayer. For years, I carried around this prayer in my purse:

When I speak to you of my sorrow, it moves somehow
From its crouching place within.
Still I just don’t feel complete;
Life rarely seems to meet my dreams.
God of my hope, God of every birth,
Nurture in me, right spirit.

I tend to agree with those who think of intercessory prayer as “a place of meeting–” a  weaving together of hearts, minds and desires. Prayer gives us an opportunity to become participants in each others lives and work. Perhaps prayer is best represented by these intertwining circles that continue to grace the front of our sanctuary.

This Sunday instead of preaching about prayer I’ve asked several people to share a prayer that has been significant to them.  We will create our own chorus of pray(ers).

Who knows what we will sense, what new questions we will ask, how we might be moved as we listen, share and yes, pray together?

PS People who sit in the Wesley Room will be among the first to tell you that you never know what and who you will hear lofting above us at Rainbow! It could be God, it could be an organist from another dimension, it could be the preachers at Village Presbyterian, it could be Dave Matthews Band, or it could be…

See you Sunday I hope.

There was a lot of talk on Sunday about feet, walking, shoes, and yes, even toes.

Click the link below to watch the delightfully choreographed song number involving shoes. Thank you Mike Peters for creating it and thank you Phil Rhoads for capturing it on video. It is “one for the ages!”

https://vimeo.com/125683218

It turns out there’s a lot more to say about this very important subject of feet.

For starters, did you know that after worship Liliana Mwagura took some of her first wobbly steps? I watched her (and her mother) smile with delight as a circle of children around Liliana cheered her on. “Isn’t this special?” one of the kids said. Yes, yes indeed.

And did you know that every time I look at this stained glass window portrayal of Jesus, I become more and more convinced that he was a dancer? One can hope anyway. (I have tried to take a picture of this Jesus kicking a soccer ball but it just doesn’t work…I’m telling you, he makes a better dancer than soccer player.)

Speaking of dancing, someone once described the dance of leadership as learning to step in and out, without stepping on. I only hope we can all keeping learn these leadership dance moves.

Here are just two more thoughts to try on for size:

1) When I was a beginning pastor at LaSalle Street Church in Chicago, I expressed fear that I could never fill the shoes of my predecessor. “That’s not the point,” one person said. “Instead why don’t you focus on filling your own shoes?” Maybe the point isn’t to learn to walk in other people’s shoes. Maybe the point is to learn to walk in our own shoes comfortably so that we can encourage others to do the same.

2) My husband is always bragging about his feet. We have an ongoing debate about who has better feet. Who wants to cast their vote? We all know how Jon Stewart would vote!

On Sunday April 19 we will join members of the Lucille Larson family in dedicating the newly remodeled youth education center. This occasion has made me think again about the purpose of having such a space. What do we hope to accomplish in all of our spaces of learning and fellowship?

Kenda Creasy Dean, an oft quoted faith formation theologian, has said that the goal of faith formation is “to make disciples of Jesus Christ who are authentically walking with God within context of intimate Christian community.”

I see this happening over and over at Rainbow. For example, this past Sunday I had the privilege of observing Sara Mwagura teach the 3 and 4 year old Sunday school class. Here is what I witnessed:

The children were gathered at a table. A candle was lit as the room lights were turned off. Sara then taught them a scripture verse about light overcoming the darkness. Then they sang their welcome song which involved some table tapping: “Hello to everybody, it’s great to see you…” And then each child and teacher was named: “Hello to Arii, it’s great to see you,” and then “Hello to Sandy, it’s great to see you,” and so on..

Next the children moved to their story table. Sara and the children add characters and unique objects to this table each week.

With the lights still dim, Sara reviewed the stories from previous weeks. She did this by walking a paper-cut Jesus through the/his story.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The children listened intently, as did the dolls.

A favorite moment on Sunday was when Sara told them the story of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with costly perfume.

Sara took out a jar of perfume and let them each smell it. Out went their feet as she knelt down and dabbed a little perfume on their socks/toes. Arri of course wondered if his feet smelled good.

The story about Jesus’ death on the cross inspired a lengthy conversation about guns and the importance of telling an adult if they ever see someone with a gun.

As is the case every week, Sara then asked the children where they would like to go in Jesus’ story? Many of them went to the sea because they like the “magic” and “powerful” Jesus who walks on water. Notice the blocks below with pictures of the children on them.

The children then engaged in creative play involving finding and playing with light.

I didn’t stay for the end, but as I walked out I heard Sara invite the children to bring their own lights from home in the coming weeks.

As I sat listening to the stories and the children’s response, our WorshipArts class (Kindergarten-5th grade) was next door singing Jubilate Deo, which means “Serve the Lord with gladness.”

Deep gladness is what I felt as I watched, listened, and wondered who these little ones will continue to become, and how they will choose to carry the Jesus story/movement forward.

When I wasn’t airing up basketballs or watching basketball last Friday, I was listening to music. This included sitting with church member Leo Goertz in his living room drinking tea and listening to cantatas composed by Bach and Brahms. I told Leo that I wanted a “cultural experience” on Good Friday, and he did not disappoint me. It was an exquisite time with an exquisite man.

What was so special about my Good Friday cultural experience was sharing it with a person who has studied and listened to music all of his life, and who has such refined musical tastes and preferences. Leo told me that he was active in a church choir from age 16 until age 80. Surely Leo should be inducted into the musical Mennonite hall of fame (if only there was such a thing).

It wasn’t until college that I started appreciating classical music. It was then that I found myself wanting to be in an all-star choir. I’m a late bloomer in other words. And what better teacher could I ask for than Leo Goertz?

Leo and I listened to two recordings of BWV 82 by J. S. Bach. The first was mezzo- soprano Lorraine Hunt Lieberson and the second was baritone Hans Hotter. This cantata has been described as being so beautiful, “it could stop wars.”

Leo is joined by many others at Rainbow who have spent much of their lives singing and appreciating music. And many of these people/ all-stars will be up front leading us in our Easter 2 worship service at Rainbow. (Easter is not over in other words. The Easter season actually continues until Pentecost, May 24.)

Like these intertwining circles that will continue to grace the front of the sanctuary during the Easter season, the sopranos, altos, tenors and basses will make up the sermon on Sunday. Their voices will be accompanied by a host of instruments, maybe even a marimba because nothing says “Christ is Risen” more than a marimba right? The choir has worked hard on this piece/peace composed by Dr. Larry Nickel and I look forward to having them lead us in worship and proclamation.  Read more about “A requiem for peace” and Dr. Nickel here.

I don’t know if Leo will make it to the service. I do know that whether he is at home or at church, he will be communing with us in song and spirit. I hope the same for all of us.

Now for a prayer by Per Harling:

Creator God, bless the human creativity in poetry, the art and the music of the world. How dull and poor life would have been if you had not inspired poets and writers to interpret the thoughts and the experiences of humanity, if you had not let artists widen the perspectives of life with their colors and their forms, if you had not inspired musicians to catch the pulse of life and the multitude of tones, which have given body to the joy, the protest, and the praise of life. Creator God, help us all to enter the living space of creativeness, where freedom is breathing, where souls may mature and where life becomes meaningful.

A couple hours after I came up with this blog title, I went shopping for a new Boggle game and was wigged out when I saw these exact letters staring back at me on the packaged game on the store shelf. Don’t believe me? Just ask my trustworthy witness/husband. Hmmm….that’s what happened in the resurrection accounts isn’t it? The men didn’t believe the women. Good thing my husband believes me…at least this time.

Holy Week has its own beautifully strange vocabulary, stories, and rituals. We started Sunday by saying hosanna, which means “God save us.” Other words that we will hear this week include: maundy (command), crucifixion, atonement, last supper, upper room, and resurrection. During Easter worship this coming Sunday we will hear, sing, and say alleluia (Greek) or hallelujah (Hebrew).

In terms of rituals, here are some of the many things going on at Rainbow this week:

Wednesday, April 1: The final Lenten Taizé service of prayer, silence and singing will be held from 5:45-6:30  in the Sanctuary. Come join us!

Thursday, April 2: Maundy Thursday communion and supper (soup) gathering from 6:30-8 pm in Fellowship Hall. Children are welcome and encouraged to attend. Click here to see the program we have planned. Maundy Thursday

We want to make sure there is enough soup so please RSVP here.

Friday, April 3:

1) Willa Gill Food Kitchen 10:30am-1:00pm. If you are available and interested in helping serve food, please contact Rachel Hostetler at rachelh@rainbowmennonite.org.

2) Basketball clinic at the church from 5-6 pm. So far there are more adults signed up to help than kids signed up to participate. This is for kids/youth of all ages and abilities. Game on!

3) Easter egg boiling (1:00 pm) and egg coloring (6:30 pm). A fun activity for all ages. Note that a Jr High lock-in will occur in conjunction with this event. Come for the egg coloring, stay for the fun times afterwards!

Saturday, April 4 Easter egg hunt at 10:300 am. Don’t miss out on the 30th annual Easter Egg Hunt in Whitmore Playground.  Check out this slideshow from last year.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Sunday, April 5 we will gather to sing and say alleluias assuming we have the energy left!

Sarah Thompson speaking at Bethel College during their 2015 Martin Luther King Day event

This Sunday there will be a new face in the Rainbow “crowd.” Sarah Thompson, Christian Peacemaker Team Executive Director, will be our guest preacher. Click here to read more info about Sarah:An excerpt from an article published in January by Bethel College

I look forward to what she has to share with us on this Palm Sunday, a day of thinking about crowds, Jesus, power, violence, and transformation.

The story of Jesus’ “triumphant” entry into Jerusalem on a donkey is a dramatic story found in all four gospels (Matthew 21:1-17; Mark 11:1-11; Luke 19:29-40; John 12:12-19). The clash of expectations, people, and emotions makes for a rich story, and it has inspired countless hymns, poems, and reflections.

The one I’m about to share was written recently by Rainbow member Lonnie Buerge. I think it’s a provocative, thoughtful re-telling of this story. As you read this and as we prepare for worship on Sunday, consider these questions: Who are the characters in the crowd? Where might we find ourselves in this crowd? What are our hopes, expectations, and fears?

Can he be what we want him to be?

By Lonnie Buerge

And so it comes together

                in Jerusalem

the Holy City.

The crowds are assembling

                breathing excitement

an intoxicating blend of both

                hope and fear.

Everyone dressed in their very best.

                Children scrubbed clean and combed.

All watching, waiting, wanting

                an arrival, an entrance, a coming to be.

Oh Jesus, Jesus our hope.

The authorities are nervous

                How to keep control

                Maintain order at all cost

                Keep the lid on.

                Plans are ready

                in case.

                Just

                in

                case.

Oh, Jesus, Jesus our threat.

The priests are waiting

                Calmly, carefully, no need to

                be nervous.

                No need to create

                any expectation.

                No need to stir the status-quo

                No change.

                Keep it orderly.

                According to tradition.

                According to the rules.

Oh Jesus, Jesus our challenge.

The disciples are with him

                Friends, band of brothers

                bound by so much to each one

                Love for J.C.

                Team of men,

                band of brothers.

Oh Jesus, Jesus our comrade.

Mary is there.

                Alone, quiet, scared.

                Heart beating with fear

                Expecting, denying, hoping

                Loving a son.

                Remembering the start

                Recalling the life

Oh Jesus, Jesus my son.

Mary Magdalene is there.

                Wondering how it might have been.

                How she could have loved him,

                how he could have loved her,

                how they would have been together

                how they might have lived.

Oh Jesus, Jesus my love

Judas is there

               On the team

                that he loves and who love him.

                Hoping for more, never quite enough.

                Wanting a glance

                Hoping for a nod

                That Jesus will be what he wants.

Oh Jesus, Jesus the promise.

Jesus, Jesus

                Who are you?

Jesus, Jesus

                What will you be?

Will you be

                What we expect?

Will you be

                What we want?

Jesus, Jesus

                Do not disappoint us.

                Do not disappoint us.

Come, come to Jerusalem

                The holy city of God.