Distractions!!!!!!!!
Was it sad news from a dear friend about a family health crisis? The heaviness that comes to me mid April as I recall sad anniversaries on the 19th?
Was it the personal stresses that came into my life--the kind that blindside you, moving you to complete panic? Which one was it that knocked me over for the past week and turned my FEAST into a FAST?
My general mode in life has been FAST rather than FEAST. I often race through life, looking to the next finish line, anticipating and planning--hoping I can move FAST enough to get one more thing done before the week, month, or year is up. Eat quick! There isn't much time! When work, or emotional stress knock at my door, I FAST even more...little time for scripture, prayer, time to stop and BREATHE....Instead of FEAST, it's FAST. PLAN. PANIC.
I recognize that instead of FASTING from scripture and communion during these challenging times, I need the FEAST even more. Instead of thinking there is not time to FEAST, I need to acknowledge there isn't time NOT to FEAST.
One thing I love about the Lutheran faith is our focus on grace. We acknowledge that no work or action of our own will bring us salvation. Only God's grace, received in faith can save us. So, I start the feast again, knowing it is only by the grace of God that I am freed from my fast.
Thank you to Marty, who, in the midst of life, reminded me "be still and know" and encouraged me to stop FASTING, slow down, and start FEASTING again.
Thanks be to God, for Giving Us Day Our Daily Bread. Even when we don't stop to taste it.
Pastor Tracy
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Drive-thru Exodus
Israel was told to eat quickly as they planned their escape from Egypt. I sort of took this same approach as I ate the manna of Exodus tonight. Several meals have been shared between Moses and myself, and, over the years I have experienced the entire feast more than once. Purist, forgive me for a less than "word for word" feast tonight.
I was drawn to Moses' mother, an unnamed Levite woman who created an adoption plan for her son. The choice was unbearable--kill your son, or, let him live and lose him forever. I imagine how she, as so many birthmothers after her have done, readied her son. Hiding him for 3 months, she watched him grow from a sleeping infant to a more alert, strong little boy. But, she knew from the day he was born that she could not hold him. When that dreaded day came, she created as safe a place for him as she could, covering a reed basket in tar. Filled with gut wrenching pain, her eyes filling with tears, she wrapped him in a blanket one last time. She kissed his cheek and called him by his birth name, knowing he was about to lose his identity forever. Many call the acts of modern and ancient birthmothers "abandonment." But she cared and loved for him the best way she knew how, placing him where someone would find him. Watching from a distance was his birth sister, who was sent by their birthmother to watch over him. Then, Moses forever family arrived--Pharaoh's own flesh and blood. The man who ordered him be killed was now his forever grandfather. A broken world is revealed.
As an adoptive parent, the story of this Levite woman touches me deeply. Like modern birthmothers faced with making life or death choices for their children, God's forever family is touched by the same pain as millions of women throughout history. Below are some thoughts I wrote on the plane back from Ethiopia after picking up our 2nd child. We don't share the specifics of our children's birth stories, and many international adoptive families do not either. But, below you will find my general account of meeting with our child's birth mother. The group we traveled with (about 7 families) traveled to southern Ethiopia to meet with birth families. At the end of the meeting, we had an entrustment ceremony, where we prayed together and the birthfamilies gave the forever families a candel as a sign of trust to raise their child. If you wish to know an adoptive child's birth story, don't ask the child's parents. Instead, read about Moses' mother and you can begin to imagine to heartbreaking reasons birthfamilies create an adoption plan. But, here are my thoughts as a forever mother, meeting my child's birth mother.
How will I do their birthmother’s justice? What is justice? Is justice abject poverty paradoxically linked to gluttonous wealth? Is it giving birth in a hut the size of my office? Does justice come out of such places, born among cattle, sheep and shepherds? A dark, seemingly hopeless place springs forth hope for the world? The birthplace of humanity is the place I return to find my children, among a proud people who love and value their children, yet can not raise them? A SON, sent to a world that can not hold Him? A world that will reject Him? Yet, from the simple place where cattle graze, hope is born? Christ coming as a simple boy in a manger isn’t a sign of Him lowering Himself, below us, to an awful, sad place, but rather being born as so many are and were born. How different the story is to those also born among grazing cattle.
We held a candle, standing on opposite sides of the room and opposite sides of the world. I knew nothing about her world, how she grew food, ate, survived. She had never heard of the US, and frankly had no need to. SHE held the light. All around us, darkness and uncertainty reigned. Poverty, death, starvation, abuse led to this moment, our lives were all so separate, but the human emotion of sorrow and loss penetrated the hearts of the wealthy and poor alike, but who was really poor? All that was shared was the light of the candle. The light which brought hope, a future. “I will not abandon you, but I will give you hope and a future.” The light shone in the darkness, among the shepherds, the farmers, the orphan, the widow. It lit the room for the Pharisees, the foolish, the broken, the whole. The light would not burn out, but shone equally bright for all the deserving, the undeserving, of every tongue and creed, every tribe and land. The light brought hope—it WAS justice, the only justice in a barren, beautiful, broken, holy, splintered, whole, unjust, just world. The light shines in the darkness, and has OVERCOME it.
Hope IS here, people care and love and want the best for their children. And this is why we mourn. We mourn because even as children are saved, they are lost. We get on a plane and take our children, children of this homeland away from their birth home. Away from their first families in order to survive. We receive a blessing from God, a gift because others experience loss. My greatest joy comes from her greatest loss. The soldiers role the dice, “they divided my garments and threw lots for my clothes.” God’s people are scattered, separated among the nations. BUT, we are all united under Christ in the same family. We are not our own.
Give us this day our daily bread,
Pastor Tracy
I was drawn to Moses' mother, an unnamed Levite woman who created an adoption plan for her son. The choice was unbearable--kill your son, or, let him live and lose him forever. I imagine how she, as so many birthmothers after her have done, readied her son. Hiding him for 3 months, she watched him grow from a sleeping infant to a more alert, strong little boy. But, she knew from the day he was born that she could not hold him. When that dreaded day came, she created as safe a place for him as she could, covering a reed basket in tar. Filled with gut wrenching pain, her eyes filling with tears, she wrapped him in a blanket one last time. She kissed his cheek and called him by his birth name, knowing he was about to lose his identity forever. Many call the acts of modern and ancient birthmothers "abandonment." But she cared and loved for him the best way she knew how, placing him where someone would find him. Watching from a distance was his birth sister, who was sent by their birthmother to watch over him. Then, Moses forever family arrived--Pharaoh's own flesh and blood. The man who ordered him be killed was now his forever grandfather. A broken world is revealed.
As an adoptive parent, the story of this Levite woman touches me deeply. Like modern birthmothers faced with making life or death choices for their children, God's forever family is touched by the same pain as millions of women throughout history. Below are some thoughts I wrote on the plane back from Ethiopia after picking up our 2nd child. We don't share the specifics of our children's birth stories, and many international adoptive families do not either. But, below you will find my general account of meeting with our child's birth mother. The group we traveled with (about 7 families) traveled to southern Ethiopia to meet with birth families. At the end of the meeting, we had an entrustment ceremony, where we prayed together and the birthfamilies gave the forever families a candel as a sign of trust to raise their child. If you wish to know an adoptive child's birth story, don't ask the child's parents. Instead, read about Moses' mother and you can begin to imagine to heartbreaking reasons birthfamilies create an adoption plan. But, here are my thoughts as a forever mother, meeting my child's birth mother.
How will I do their birthmother’s justice? What is justice? Is justice abject poverty paradoxically linked to gluttonous wealth? Is it giving birth in a hut the size of my office? Does justice come out of such places, born among cattle, sheep and shepherds? A dark, seemingly hopeless place springs forth hope for the world? The birthplace of humanity is the place I return to find my children, among a proud people who love and value their children, yet can not raise them? A SON, sent to a world that can not hold Him? A world that will reject Him? Yet, from the simple place where cattle graze, hope is born? Christ coming as a simple boy in a manger isn’t a sign of Him lowering Himself, below us, to an awful, sad place, but rather being born as so many are and were born. How different the story is to those also born among grazing cattle.
We held a candle, standing on opposite sides of the room and opposite sides of the world. I knew nothing about her world, how she grew food, ate, survived. She had never heard of the US, and frankly had no need to. SHE held the light. All around us, darkness and uncertainty reigned. Poverty, death, starvation, abuse led to this moment, our lives were all so separate, but the human emotion of sorrow and loss penetrated the hearts of the wealthy and poor alike, but who was really poor? All that was shared was the light of the candle. The light which brought hope, a future. “I will not abandon you, but I will give you hope and a future.” The light shone in the darkness, among the shepherds, the farmers, the orphan, the widow. It lit the room for the Pharisees, the foolish, the broken, the whole. The light would not burn out, but shone equally bright for all the deserving, the undeserving, of every tongue and creed, every tribe and land. The light brought hope—it WAS justice, the only justice in a barren, beautiful, broken, holy, splintered, whole, unjust, just world. The light shines in the darkness, and has OVERCOME it.
Hope IS here, people care and love and want the best for their children. And this is why we mourn. We mourn because even as children are saved, they are lost. We get on a plane and take our children, children of this homeland away from their birth home. Away from their first families in order to survive. We receive a blessing from God, a gift because others experience loss. My greatest joy comes from her greatest loss. The soldiers role the dice, “they divided my garments and threw lots for my clothes.” God’s people are scattered, separated among the nations. BUT, we are all united under Christ in the same family. We are not our own.
Give us this day our daily bread,
Pastor Tracy
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A quick bite with Adam & Eve
I stopped by to dine with some old friends today. Adam and Eve, Abraham & Sarah, the whole gang was there. Until I started reading, I didn't realize how often we have dined together. From Sunday school classes starting in 1983 to seminary classes, I have seen this crew dressed up on felt boards and as singing tomatoes & cucumbers (veggie tales). They have been presented as uncomplicated, faithful followers of God, and as utterly human, broken people. Throughout the meal, at times it was as if Dr. Fretheim joined us, his voice in my head "God's covenants build upon each other..."
I didn't quite know which version of these old friends I wanted to visit. It used to be so simple--Father Abraham had many sons, I am one of them, and so are you, so let's all praise the Lord! Then, I went to seminary and the relationship became more complicated--Father Abraham had a son by taking advantage of his power and position. Hagar would have had no choice but to mother a child for him. In our modern world, we call it rape. How do we continue to sit across the table from him, naming ourselves as "one of his sons?" Lot's virgin daughters, after being offered up by their father for gang rape, got him drunk and slept with him in an extremely misguided attempt to keep the human race alive. But God still used the broken--the murderer, the rapist, the raped, the illegitimate children in His story. Abraham, and Hagar, and all the rest are part of God's story. Not because they were cleanly cut felt board characters who made a mistake one day by eating an apple from a talking snake. Instead, they are all part of God's family, gathered at God's table IN SPITE of and BECAUSE they are broken, deplorable human beings. Because we are too. These accounts don't make the meal any less "perfect" or or "magical"--it was never intended to be. Instead, we still gather at the table with Abraham, Lot, and Eve knowing that we too are broken, waiting for Jesus to serve us the meal.
Though I don't have the energy tonight, I will have to share with you the power of the flood story and the rainbow in my life. I lived in East Grand Forks MN when flood waters destroyed the entire town and burnt out the downtown area. In the midst of our broken city, God gave us a perfect rainbow over the burnt out downtown, reminding us all of His promise to never leave us and never flood the world again...look for a fuller story on April 19, the 13th anniversary of the flood.
Feasting with Pastors: Every month, a hungry group of pastors gather together in East Central Indiana for a meal. We share our concerns, spread a little good cheer (and gossip) and feast on God's food. On any given Sunday, we are providing the meal to our congregation. But, once a month, those who serve the FEAST to others serve it to one another. It is our daily bread, reminding us that no matter how broken we or our ministry is, Christ too is broken, so we may be filled. The broken BODY of Christ is served to the broken Body of Christ. Then, we go out, so that we may remind others to to ask God to
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread....
Pastor Tracy
I didn't quite know which version of these old friends I wanted to visit. It used to be so simple--Father Abraham had many sons, I am one of them, and so are you, so let's all praise the Lord! Then, I went to seminary and the relationship became more complicated--Father Abraham had a son by taking advantage of his power and position. Hagar would have had no choice but to mother a child for him. In our modern world, we call it rape. How do we continue to sit across the table from him, naming ourselves as "one of his sons?" Lot's virgin daughters, after being offered up by their father for gang rape, got him drunk and slept with him in an extremely misguided attempt to keep the human race alive. But God still used the broken--the murderer, the rapist, the raped, the illegitimate children in His story. Abraham, and Hagar, and all the rest are part of God's story. Not because they were cleanly cut felt board characters who made a mistake one day by eating an apple from a talking snake. Instead, they are all part of God's family, gathered at God's table IN SPITE of and BECAUSE they are broken, deplorable human beings. Because we are too. These accounts don't make the meal any less "perfect" or or "magical"--it was never intended to be. Instead, we still gather at the table with Abraham, Lot, and Eve knowing that we too are broken, waiting for Jesus to serve us the meal.
Though I don't have the energy tonight, I will have to share with you the power of the flood story and the rainbow in my life. I lived in East Grand Forks MN when flood waters destroyed the entire town and burnt out the downtown area. In the midst of our broken city, God gave us a perfect rainbow over the burnt out downtown, reminding us all of His promise to never leave us and never flood the world again...look for a fuller story on April 19, the 13th anniversary of the flood.
Feasting with Pastors: Every month, a hungry group of pastors gather together in East Central Indiana for a meal. We share our concerns, spread a little good cheer (and gossip) and feast on God's food. On any given Sunday, we are providing the meal to our congregation. But, once a month, those who serve the FEAST to others serve it to one another. It is our daily bread, reminding us that no matter how broken we or our ministry is, Christ too is broken, so we may be filled. The broken BODY of Christ is served to the broken Body of Christ. Then, we go out, so that we may remind others to to ask God to
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread....
Pastor Tracy
Monday, April 12, 2010
Breakfast with Daniel
I met Daniel at Panera while enjoying a chai latte and getting ready to bounce back into my work following a week of vacation. It was a strange meal, perhaps because Daniel and I haven't dined together since 1986 when I colored pictures of him in a lion's den. This book was not really discussed in seminary, and, if I recall, was never an assigned reading. My limited knowledge told me to pair it with Revelation due to the prophecy found in both. I saw a bit of a connection, but struggle to explain how these two prophetic parings create a meal. I'm sure if I found a commentary to help me along, the passages would be more clear. But, my mission this month is not to understand every passage, learn every Hebrew word, or make every connection between books. It is to sample all the flavors the Bible has to offer, like a whirlwind tour of foods from around the world. I will learn to appreciate the individual ingrediants that make up the meal another time.
What do we do with passages that simply don't speak to us? Is it a sign that we should dive in and learn more about the flavors, and textures presented? Or, do we move on to another text that is more palatable? I'd be interested to hear your insights, dear readers.
I was refreshed by a brief visit to my familiar friend Matthew. Not only have I read the Gospels on my own, the lectionary cycle does bring them to light at least once every three years. This makes dining with the Gospels like reconnecting with an old familiar friend.
Not feeling to inspired today, so I'll keep it short. All the while knowing that God will
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
Pastor Tracy
What do we do with passages that simply don't speak to us? Is it a sign that we should dive in and learn more about the flavors, and textures presented? Or, do we move on to another text that is more palatable? I'd be interested to hear your insights, dear readers.
I was refreshed by a brief visit to my familiar friend Matthew. Not only have I read the Gospels on my own, the lectionary cycle does bring them to light at least once every three years. This makes dining with the Gospels like reconnecting with an old familiar friend.
Not feeling to inspired today, so I'll keep it short. All the while knowing that God will
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
Pastor Tracy
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Dining with Job
Good evening fellow FEASTERS!!!
Someone asked me to post my reading schedule, in the event anyone wants to read along with me...here is what I've read thus far, and what I plan to read tomorrow (i don't have my schedule beyond that, but I'll work on it in the coming days)
Day 1: Isaiah 1-33 & Matthew 1-7
Day 2: Isaiah 34-66 & Matthew 8-15
Day 3: Job 1-42
Day 4: Daniel 1-12, Revelation 1-22 & Matthew 16-20
Today is the 1st Sunday after Easter, and, like any good pastor who has preached on doubting Thomas for 3 years in a row, I tossed this Sunday's service over to my faithful colleague and took the week off. I hear he thanked me for this by using me as a sermon illustration. What does a pastor do on their Sunday off? Why go to another church, and read the entire book of Job, of course!!! After watching "This Week with George Stephanopoulos (which is no longer hosted by George) we piled the family into the trusty Toyota Yaris, grabbed a Starbucks and headed over to a Baptist church near our kid's daycare. The service was lively, spirit filled, and, at 2 hours, a bit longer than my kid's 70 minute church attention span. Between walks in the hall with restless kids, I listened to the preacher share a message on Job.
The preacher commented that people always focus on the first two chapters and the last few verses of the book. Job's faith is found throughout the book, but we are comforted by 1:21 and similar verses "The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised." When our lives are in Job 1, we may still praise God's name in the face of suffering. But, what about living in Job 14? When suffering not only knocks, but comes to FEAST with you? What is our response? In chapter 14:13, a faithful Job asks God to "if only you would hide me in the grave and conceal me till your anger has passed..." Job wants to be dead! And who can blame him? How much harder it is for those who FEAST with suffering.
When have you FEASTED with suffering? Was it the month you buried 6 beloved congregation members and friends? When you had to go home and tell your wife that you were laid off? When your home was destroyed by flood waters? When you lost your child? I too turn my nose up at my personal feast of suffering, passing it back to the waiter, asking for a new dinner. I don't have answers to your questions--I'm to full from my personal feast to start picking away at your plate. I was struck by the number of questions throughout the book of Job. One chapter was simply a list of questions about suffering. The salty taste of suffering and anger surrounded Job and his friends.
But, in the midst of a plate of questions, this OLD TESTAMENT book contains Job's NEW TESTAMENT hope: "I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end He will stand upon the earth. (19:25)" Even in the Old Testament, when we're only half way through the FEAST of Job's pain, we find our redeemer, alive. As we gather around broken tables, filled with spiritual indigestion, our plates are overflowing with the world's painful food. But, our hope and redemption is found as we push our chairs away from the broken table and gather around a new table, where the kingdom's food is served.
Let us live with Job's hope, knowing that our redeemer lives.
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
Pastor Tracy
Someone asked me to post my reading schedule, in the event anyone wants to read along with me...here is what I've read thus far, and what I plan to read tomorrow (i don't have my schedule beyond that, but I'll work on it in the coming days)
Day 1: Isaiah 1-33 & Matthew 1-7
Day 2: Isaiah 34-66 & Matthew 8-15
Day 3: Job 1-42
Day 4: Daniel 1-12, Revelation 1-22 & Matthew 16-20
Today is the 1st Sunday after Easter, and, like any good pastor who has preached on doubting Thomas for 3 years in a row, I tossed this Sunday's service over to my faithful colleague and took the week off. I hear he thanked me for this by using me as a sermon illustration. What does a pastor do on their Sunday off? Why go to another church, and read the entire book of Job, of course!!! After watching "This Week with George Stephanopoulos (which is no longer hosted by George) we piled the family into the trusty Toyota Yaris, grabbed a Starbucks and headed over to a Baptist church near our kid's daycare. The service was lively, spirit filled, and, at 2 hours, a bit longer than my kid's 70 minute church attention span. Between walks in the hall with restless kids, I listened to the preacher share a message on Job.
The preacher commented that people always focus on the first two chapters and the last few verses of the book. Job's faith is found throughout the book, but we are comforted by 1:21 and similar verses "The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised." When our lives are in Job 1, we may still praise God's name in the face of suffering. But, what about living in Job 14? When suffering not only knocks, but comes to FEAST with you? What is our response? In chapter 14:13, a faithful Job asks God to "if only you would hide me in the grave and conceal me till your anger has passed..." Job wants to be dead! And who can blame him? How much harder it is for those who FEAST with suffering.
When have you FEASTED with suffering? Was it the month you buried 6 beloved congregation members and friends? When you had to go home and tell your wife that you were laid off? When your home was destroyed by flood waters? When you lost your child? I too turn my nose up at my personal feast of suffering, passing it back to the waiter, asking for a new dinner. I don't have answers to your questions--I'm to full from my personal feast to start picking away at your plate. I was struck by the number of questions throughout the book of Job. One chapter was simply a list of questions about suffering. The salty taste of suffering and anger surrounded Job and his friends.
But, in the midst of a plate of questions, this OLD TESTAMENT book contains Job's NEW TESTAMENT hope: "I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end He will stand upon the earth. (19:25)" Even in the Old Testament, when we're only half way through the FEAST of Job's pain, we find our redeemer, alive. As we gather around broken tables, filled with spiritual indigestion, our plates are overflowing with the world's painful food. But, our hope and redemption is found as we push our chairs away from the broken table and gather around a new table, where the kingdom's food is served.
Let us live with Job's hope, knowing that our redeemer lives.
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
Pastor Tracy
Saturday, April 10, 2010
My First Feast
The first time I feasted, I was a 5th grader at University Lutheran in Grand Forks, ND. Preparation for the feast began with a cooking class that set out before us the ingredients needed for the meal. Head Chef, Pastor Weber, and his assistant, a 20something recent graduate from Luther Seminary, with cookbooks in hand, prepared a room of awkward 10 year olds and their parents for Sunday's meal. Reading the story of Israel's flee from Egypt, I asked Chef Weber if we had to use unlevend bread like the Isrealites did...they said no. Hearing the Assistant Chef share Luther's explanation of Holy Communion, someone asked if he had the whole caticism memorized...he said no.
I don't remember much else from the class, other than a story from the assistant chef involving deer hunting in western North Dakota, which, for me at least, didn't connect. I didn't see any venison on the menu. After what seemed like an extremely long class in a cold Sunday School room, we went downstairs to sample the meal--we were reminded that this wasn't our first feast, but just a chance for us to taste the stale round circles of unleavend wheat and sip the red wine purchased by the altar guild at Happy Harry's Bottle Shop. It was the first time I had tasted wine, and I felt a little strange drinking in church.
That Sunday, the meal was different. Dressed in a beautiful, allbeit uncomfortable grey velvet dress, my family sat in the front with the other students. Along with my grandparents, including my pastor grandfather were invited to come to the meal first. The table was set, and we were kneeling, just as I practiced. Though I had reached out my hands from the age of 4, hoping someone would serve me, this time, Head Chef Pastor Weber, placed the waffer and cup in my outstretched hands, and I dined with Jesus. Like a meal served in a 4 star restuarant, it satisfied my hunger and thirst.
Last night, I once again experienced a first feast. Searching for the appropriate place to have a feast in our home, Jeff and I transformed a prefab bookshelf into an altar with the wooden cross we received after becoming members of our current church. In the kitchen, I took part of a stale English muffin and placed it on a clay plate. Franzia, our cheap boxed wine, was poured into a crystal wine glass we received as a wedding present. Holding last week's breakfast food and 1/4 glass of cheap wine, I felt as out of place as my 10 year old self training for the feast. Then, I spoke the words, broke the muffin, made a sign of the cross over the wine. The BODY of Christ, along with the Body of Christ, were transformed, united, satisfied. What was once truly common food became something more.
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread.
Pastor Tracy
I don't remember much else from the class, other than a story from the assistant chef involving deer hunting in western North Dakota, which, for me at least, didn't connect. I didn't see any venison on the menu. After what seemed like an extremely long class in a cold Sunday School room, we went downstairs to sample the meal--we were reminded that this wasn't our first feast, but just a chance for us to taste the stale round circles of unleavend wheat and sip the red wine purchased by the altar guild at Happy Harry's Bottle Shop. It was the first time I had tasted wine, and I felt a little strange drinking in church.
That Sunday, the meal was different. Dressed in a beautiful, allbeit uncomfortable grey velvet dress, my family sat in the front with the other students. Along with my grandparents, including my pastor grandfather were invited to come to the meal first. The table was set, and we were kneeling, just as I practiced. Though I had reached out my hands from the age of 4, hoping someone would serve me, this time, Head Chef Pastor Weber, placed the waffer and cup in my outstretched hands, and I dined with Jesus. Like a meal served in a 4 star restuarant, it satisfied my hunger and thirst.
Last night, I once again experienced a first feast. Searching for the appropriate place to have a feast in our home, Jeff and I transformed a prefab bookshelf into an altar with the wooden cross we received after becoming members of our current church. In the kitchen, I took part of a stale English muffin and placed it on a clay plate. Franzia, our cheap boxed wine, was poured into a crystal wine glass we received as a wedding present. Holding last week's breakfast food and 1/4 glass of cheap wine, I felt as out of place as my 10 year old self training for the feast. Then, I spoke the words, broke the muffin, made a sign of the cross over the wine. The BODY of Christ, along with the Body of Christ, were transformed, united, satisfied. What was once truly common food became something more.
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread.
Pastor Tracy
Friday, April 9, 2010
Isaiah 1-33 & Matthew 1-8
**If this is the first time you are reading The Feast, check out the entry below this one 1st**
I begin my feast with Isaiah and Matthew. Why?
Isaiah intimidates me. The bitter herb of his words has been a challenge in the past. One doesn't "enjoy" or "find comfort" when they read "Their infants will be dashed to pieces before their eyes; their houses will be looted and their wives ravished." Somehow, those verses didn't make it into our lectionary...The taste has led me to avoid much of Isaiah, and most of the other prophets.
As for Matthew-I thought I'd pair a challenging and less familiar book with one I have read before. The story of Jesus in Matthew is like Crème Brule. You break into the textured, outer layer of 1st century culture and dive into the smooth words of forgiveness.
My meal from Isaiah certainly contained bitter herbs mixed with several chapters of somewhat bland commandments...as you read warning after warning given to ancient cultures, they begin to taste the same. However, the bite gave way to strong prophecy as I found a mix of familiar passages: "The virgin will be with child, and will give birth to a so, and he shall be Immanuel." There is much bitterness to lament, but out of the remnant, Jesus, Immanuel, God with Us, will emerge as our Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace. I also found some comfort hearing that the ancients struggled with the same bitterness and pain that we do. Pain, sin and death were as unpalatable for them as it is for us.
My second course of today's meal came from Matthew, a treat I was looking forward to. However, I was floored as I read the first 3 chapters and found it FILLED with prophecy from Isaiah and others. Yes, theologically I knew there was prophecy in Matthew. I'm sure I can find a seminary paper or two that I have written about this. However, I never inwardly digested these verses. From Joseph's dream "they will call him Immanuel" (1:23, found in Isaiah 7:14) to "prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him (3:3 found in Isaiah 40:3) to half a dozen other examples from Hosea, Micah and Jeremiah, the bitterness of Isaiah mixed with the sweetness of the Gospel to form an entirely new feast of promise.
I don't know who is reading this, but I know this is somehow connecting the Body of Christ. I will pray for your feast, for your daily bread, and ask that you pray for mine as well. Post any prayers you wish to share. Today, I pray for the Valparaiso University community, the Indiana KY Synod and all those who mourn Pastor Darlene Grega, who committed suicide this week. She is the 3rd Luther Seminary graduate whom I attended school with who has committed suicide in the past 2 years, all women. I don't understand why the Body of Christ, and the Body of Luther Seminary are broken in this way, but I pray that we will seek out those who are hurting and look at our community very carefully to understand what has gone wrong in the lives of so many.
Until tomorrow, Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread....
Pastor Tracy
I begin my feast with Isaiah and Matthew. Why?
Isaiah intimidates me. The bitter herb of his words has been a challenge in the past. One doesn't "enjoy" or "find comfort" when they read "Their infants will be dashed to pieces before their eyes; their houses will be looted and their wives ravished." Somehow, those verses didn't make it into our lectionary...The taste has led me to avoid much of Isaiah, and most of the other prophets.
As for Matthew-I thought I'd pair a challenging and less familiar book with one I have read before. The story of Jesus in Matthew is like Crème Brule. You break into the textured, outer layer of 1st century culture and dive into the smooth words of forgiveness.
My meal from Isaiah certainly contained bitter herbs mixed with several chapters of somewhat bland commandments...as you read warning after warning given to ancient cultures, they begin to taste the same. However, the bite gave way to strong prophecy as I found a mix of familiar passages: "The virgin will be with child, and will give birth to a so, and he shall be Immanuel." There is much bitterness to lament, but out of the remnant, Jesus, Immanuel, God with Us, will emerge as our Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace. I also found some comfort hearing that the ancients struggled with the same bitterness and pain that we do. Pain, sin and death were as unpalatable for them as it is for us.
My second course of today's meal came from Matthew, a treat I was looking forward to. However, I was floored as I read the first 3 chapters and found it FILLED with prophecy from Isaiah and others. Yes, theologically I knew there was prophecy in Matthew. I'm sure I can find a seminary paper or two that I have written about this. However, I never inwardly digested these verses. From Joseph's dream "they will call him Immanuel" (1:23, found in Isaiah 7:14) to "prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him (3:3 found in Isaiah 40:3) to half a dozen other examples from Hosea, Micah and Jeremiah, the bitterness of Isaiah mixed with the sweetness of the Gospel to form an entirely new feast of promise.
I don't know who is reading this, but I know this is somehow connecting the Body of Christ. I will pray for your feast, for your daily bread, and ask that you pray for mine as well. Post any prayers you wish to share. Today, I pray for the Valparaiso University community, the Indiana KY Synod and all those who mourn Pastor Darlene Grega, who committed suicide this week. She is the 3rd Luther Seminary graduate whom I attended school with who has committed suicide in the past 2 years, all women. I don't understand why the Body of Christ, and the Body of Luther Seminary are broken in this way, but I pray that we will seek out those who are hurting and look at our community very carefully to understand what has gone wrong in the lives of so many.
Until tomorrow, Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread....
Pastor Tracy
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