Sunday, November 28, 2010

Barbara Moyer Lehman: Living Attentively in the Gap

November 28, 2010 - Advent 1
Matthew 24:36-44, Romans 13:11-14

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While some of us are patient people, we live in a society that expects immediate gratification. Even in the midst of the immediacy of society, there are many things for which we wait. Pastor Barbara Moyer Lehman wonders if or how we are waiting for the return of Christ. Matthew 24:36-44 calls us to be ready; to be alert. What does that mean for us today, as we live in this extended gap between Jesus' first coming and his second? Paul, in Romans calls the church in Rome to live in light. As we examine our life in the gap, are we attentive and alert to God: Are we behaving decently? Are we walking in the light, under the Lordship of Jesus Christ?

Pastor Barbara encouraged us to look for what is darkness in our lives. What challenges us and keeps us from living in the light? In a practical turn, how do we push back the darkness of materialism that surrounds Christmas? As Pastor Barbara said, "As people of faith, let us live with a sense of anticipation of Christ's return".

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Sunday, November 21, 2010

Phil Kniss: (Part 1) First and best

November 21, 2010 "Thanksgiving Sunday"
Deuteronomy 26:1-11

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I find it fascinating that this whole detailed liturgy
that Ross just outlined for the children—
the whole set of instructions about what to do with the harvest,
how to bring it to God in worship,
who to give it to, what to say,
and how to eat it, and with whom—
all those instructions were given to the people
before they set foot in the promised land,
before the first seed was planted,
before the first brick was laid on their houses and barns,
before they knew whether they’d even have a harvest to bring.

While they are still a wandering people,
God tells them how to worship as a settled people.
In the wilderness, they know how much they need God.
They’re reminded every day they wait for manna and quail
coming straight from God’s hands.
But when once they live in houses and till the soil,
they’ll start to forget life is pure gift.
They’ll think life is something they make happen.
And they start to be less grateful.

So they are given this harvest liturgy.
They take the first and best portion of their harvest
put it in a basket,
bring it to the God, represented by the priest,
and retell their story.
They rehearse it from the beginning to the present,
naming all the ways God upheld them and provided for them.

Then they prepare the big feast . . . and everyone joins in.
The Levites, the aliens, the orphans, the widows.
All the people without property rights.

And they were taught this whole liturgy in advance.
As a training exercise. A discipline.
A body-building act of worship that would form them.

Left on our own, we will forget.
We will forget that it’s all God’s to begin with.
We will forget that we are only trustees.
We will start acting like owners of all our stuff.

We don’t learn to be good trustees by default.
We learn by being intentional and disciplined.

The default mode is self-preservation, greed, materialism,
to act like owners.
By default we use our resources according to what pleases us,
what satisfies our desires and drives,
what brings us comfort and security.
By default we forget that decisions we make about all that we have,
not just ten percent, but all of what we have,
are the decisions of trustees, not owners.

But as disciplined good trustees, we decide how to use
our money, our houses and land,
our material possessions, our time and talents,
in a way that is true to the mission and vision of the owner.
It’s not our priorities that guide how we use our stuff.
It’s the priorities and mission of God, who owns it all—
God whose mission it is to reconcile all creation.
God whose priority is to bring healing to the broken,
and release to the captives.

If we are using God’s stuff in any other way,
such as to feed our selfish desires,
or to amass wealth, comfort, and security for ourselves,
or to wield power over others,
then we will have to answer to the owner.
_____________________

Stewardship would be a lot easier, if it was mainly about tithing.
Tithing is a math issue.
If you know how to move a decimal point,
you know how to tithe.

How easy it would be,
if we only had to relinquish ten percent to God,
and use the rest however we please.
But that’s not stewardship.
Stewardship is being God’s responsible and disciplined trustee
for all of God’s stuff
with which God generously trusts us.
_____________________

Whenever we receive an offering in worship
we are to give knowing that God trusts us.
And especially, in this annual offering ritual,
in which we also offer our Faith Promise for the coming year,
we do so with an even greater awareness,
that God trusts us with all that we have.
God is the one who freed us from aimless wandering,
brought us into a land of productivity,
and trusts us to use all that productivity for God’s mission.
So as an act of gratitude
that reminds us who we are,
and reminds us who owns our stuff,
we bring our basket of First Fruits—
the first and the best of the harvest of our lives.
We don’t bring the leftovers—
the portion we calculate, after subtracting everything else,
that we can afford to give.

So let me just say this.
If you came today planning to drop your Faith Promise card in the basket,
but now as you think about it,
it feels more like a calculated remainder,
and less like offering up your first and best,
just hold on to the card for the time being.
Next Sunday will work just as well.
Or if, as I’m sure is the case for some,
you came unprepared
because you just didn’t get around to thinking about it,
by all means, please don’t quick fill it out
with some amount that comes to mind as being reasonable.
Take your time. Take another week if you need it.
God gets far more pleasure out of our gifts
that reflect our deep trust in God
and gratitude for the trust God has in us,
than gifts given to meet an obligation or a deadline.
_____________________

But having said that, we are now going to have a giving party.
We are going to celebrate God’s bounty,
whether we have a little or a lot at our disposal.

I think that all of us, even with a moment’s reflection,
can think of some way that God is being bountiful in our lives.
It may or may not look bountiful in terms of finances
or houses or land or jobs or other material resources.
But God, and God’s many gifts in life, are generous and bountiful.
And all of us have the capacity today, right now,
to express our gratitude through the act of giving.
I worshiped in Tanzania some years ago,
in a small, rural Mennonite church.
They were as materially poor
as any Christians I have met.
But their offering was more joyful and celebrative,
than any we’ve ever had at Park View.
And everyone participated in the offering processional,
from the youngest to oldest.

So this morning we are going to give joyfully—whether little or much—
to the God who trusts us with his bounty.
The offering will be brought forward in a procession,
Deuteronomy-style; African-style.
We will put all our offering in these large baskets,
our regular weekly offering,
as well as—for those who believe they are ready—
the Faith Promise cards
(whole, or in two parts, as indicated).

Everyone gets in on the act. Every man, woman, and child.
Not everyone came prepared with a gift in their hands,
but that’s not a problem.
It’s the responsibility of you who do have something to bring,
to check with your neighbors sitting near you.
If their hands are empty, share what you have.
Pass any loose bills and change around,
until everyone has something to bring.
It’s not the amount that’s important, it’s the participation.
Let’s go ahead and do that now.
Check with each other, make sure everyone is ready.

As soon as the music starts,
we will all come up row by row, beginning at the back,
like we do when we receive communion.
We’ll come down the center and side aisles,
and returning to our seats by the angled aisles.
Ushers will help you know when and where to go.
If it is difficult for you to walk forward with your gift,
you can still participate by sending up your gift
with someone else.

Let us give with joy, with generosity,
and give as if God trusted us.
Because, in fact, God does.


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Phil Kniss: (Part 2) First above all powers

November 21, 2010 "Reign of Christ" Sunday
Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 1:68-79


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How in the world do we make sense of a scripture
like the one we just heard from Colossians 1,
when we live in a world like we do?

How can we say—
in a world of war, of domination,
of violent dictatorships, of abuses of power,
of nations who inflict or turn a blind eye to torture and atrocities,
of the grossest of evil that we humans do to each other—
how can we even begin to say that Jesus,
the cosmic Prince of Peace,
is truly Lord of all these powers?
That [quote], “in him all things in heaven and on earth were created,
. . . thrones, dominions, rulers, powers—
all things have been created through him and for him.”
That Christ “is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”
That “he is the head . . . the beginning . . . the firstborn . . .
[the one who has] first place in everything . . .
whether on earth or in heaven.”

What does it mean to claim Jesus Christ is Lord of all,
when our world looks anything but
like a place where Christ wields any power?
Are the powers of this age really subject
to the crucified and risen Christ?
Or are they happily and freely running roughshod
over the power of Christ,
and all that is good and peaceful and life-affirming?

I admit that’s a pretty big question to deal with
in the second half of a 20-minute sermon.

This is “The Reign of Christ” Sunday—
the last Sunday in our yearly worship calendar.
Next Sunday is the church’s New Year Day: Advent 1.
On The Reign of Christ Sunday we prepare us for the season
that celebrates the coming of the God of Salvation,
coming in the flesh, in the form of a helpless child.

And not by coincidence,
one of the assigned scriptures for this “Reign of Christ” Sunday
is the song of Zechariah from Luke 1, that we heard a minute ago.
The elderly Zechariah, father of John the Baptist,
sang this song when his baby was born,
and his tongue was set free to speak and sing again.
Zechariah sang a song of confidence in God’s salvation,
confidence in the power of the Messiah, the Mighty Savior,
who would rescue his people from their oppressive enemies,
and once and for all put the powers in their place.

Yet, here we are.
Here we are.
Living in the crushing grip of the powers of this Age.
As citizens of one of the nations that exercises these powers,
sometimes fearfully so.

Recently, hundreds of thousands of classified war documents—
detailed logs from Afghanistan and Iraq—
were leaked to major newspapers around the world.
We can say what we will about
the recklessness and illegality of the leaks,
or about the seedy character who leaked them.
And we would likely be correct.
But no one disputes that the documents are real.
The information in them paint a horrific picture
of what can happen when the power we possess
begins to possess us.

We learned that civilian deaths in Iraq
were far greater in number than previously claimed,
and many were carried out by Iraqis themselves.
Now available, for public reading,
are detailed accounts of nearly every violent death in Iraq,
the location, date, circumstances, and number killed.

There are narratives detailing incidents of torture and prisoner abuse.
We learn that in some areas there were commands given
to military investigators to avert their eyes, close investigations,
when torture or execution was being carried out
by Iraqi security forces.
And this led some of our troops to threaten prisoners
with the torture or execution they would certainly get
if they were turned over to their Iraqi compatriots.

It’s not that these leaks told us a lot we didn’t know already.
We know that in war we must de-humanize the enemy,
in order to do our job.
And we know that sometimes, unspeakable things happen,
when we no longer see in the other our shared humanity.

It’s no surprise, really, that atrocities often happen in warfare.
That innocent people are often targeted for death.
For no reason, other than they wear the label, “enemy.”
There is death by murder, torture, by means unimaginable,
inflicted by human beings who formerly may well have been
described as compassionate and rational beings.
But the power of war which they were given to wield over others,
began to dominate and enslave them instead.
This power rendered them strong in weapons,
but weak in soul and fragile in spirit.
It made them capable of unimaginable evil.
_____________________

But let’s be honest.
We see a similar kind of thing at work in ourselves,
on a much smaller and tamer scale, of course.
We all have tremendous power in our hands.
Today more than ever,
we have possibilities and choices beyond our imagination.
Technology is power.
Money is power.
Information is power.
But power comes at a price.
Our lives get reshaped by having to manage and control everything.
Technology is not only our servant; it is our master.
Time moves faster and we get swept along by it.
Money controls us more than we like to admit.
Impersonal human systems of power drive our lives in this world—
the military-industrial complex,
an economy built on consumption, and human greed.
And the majority of people in the world
who don’t have access to these power systems,
and who get on the bad side of those who do,
get used, abused, and discarded.
And we are complicit in these systems,
by the way we choose to invest our money,
and spend our time and resources.

This is, I believe, something we have to come to terms with.
Every Christian who confesses Christ as Lord of all,
every church that dares to claim it is the body of the risen Christ,
must come to terms with the issue of power—
the power that we have, and the power that has us.

The systems of power in the world
are often rooted in our own legitimate
human energies and ambitions,
but they soon supercede, and start to dominate us human beings.
We both participate in, and are manipulated by,
the powers we create.
_____________________

But the Good News of God is that, because of the resurrection,
the powers of death have been conquered and broken.
The powers of this world are set free
from their anxious, self-preserving, and violent ways
of exerting their will through domination.
Set free, even if they don’t realize it,
even if they don’t make use of that freedom.
And sadly, they usually don’t.
The powers of this world are not content
to serve God and God’s purposes.
But they are invited to do so.
And we invite them.
We who are stewards of the Good News of God.
Who else will?

We are morally and biblically on solid ground,
when we live out these convictions in Colossians 1,
that Christ is first in all things, first above the powers,
above all thrones or dominions or rulers or powers.

We just finished our series on “what’s the gospel word?”
Well, we have a gospel word to share with the world,
to share with the powers.
In the name of Jesus, in the name of the gospel of God,
we invite the powers to realign themselves
with the way of God in the world,
to fulfill their purposes
within God’s plan for cosmic peace and salvation.
And we need not be shy doing so.

No, these powers may not ever come around
to sacrifice self-interest
and serve God’s purposes in the world.
Until Christ comes to establish the Reign of God
in its fullness and completeness
these powers will continue to live under the illusion,
that their power is ultimate,
that their power is their own.

But we don’t need to sit by in silence and in complicity.
Out of our identity as God’s people,
and out of our understanding of the gospel of God,
we can at least,
critically reflect on what the powers are up to.
We can at least,
pray for our governments.
Theologian Karl Barth called intercession
a priestly ministry that all Christians are called to perform
in relation to the powers that govern us.
We can at least,
exercise a prophetic witness and ministry,
being careful not to get caught in the powers themselves
when we do so.

When we read texts like Colossians 1,
we need not despair that things don’t look like that right now.
And we need not be silent.
We can, because of the resurrection,
proclaim in hope and in confidence that
Christ is, in fact, the beginning, the firstborn,
who has first place in everything.
We can publicly and without fear,
bow before the Lamb who is on the throne.
We can crown him with many crowns.
We can “crown Him the Lord of peace,
whose power a scepter sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease,
and all be prayer and praise.”
And we can sing all of this with a strong voice,
#116 in the blue hymnal.
Let’s stand and sing!

—Phil Kniss, November 21, 2010

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Sunday, November 14, 2010

Phil Kniss: At the very least . . . let them glean

November 14, 2010
"What's the gospel word on immigration?"
Deuteronomy 24:14-15, 16-22; Hebrews 13:1-3; Matthew 10:40-42


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The problem of immigration in our country is real.
It is complex.
It is polarizing.
And there are no straight-forward solutions.

As much as our heart wants to say, “Come!” . . .
just throwing our national borders wide open,
and allowing anyone in the world at all,
for any reason,
to move here and settle . . .
probably doesn’t make sense—
socially, economically, politically, or security-wise.

But then, almost any kind of rule-based immigration law we enforce
will create some moral dilemma,
because each individual human circumstance is unique.

We want to do the right thing, but we are caught.
What is a prudent and moral way to behave as a nation,
of which we are citizens?
How do we Christians, as members of a larger society,
help to structure our society in such a way
that it is both hospitable and reasonably secure?

And more to the point this morning,
does it make any difference
to look at these questions through a gospel lens?

The gospel of God, revealed in Jesus,
and revealed in scripture from Genesis to Revelation,
actually has a lot to say
about our relationship to the stranger,
the foreigner, the wanderer, the non-citizen.

The gospel has a word to speak,
and we probably should listen carefully.
_____________________

Let’s do a quick review of some biblical texts.
If you are in the good habit of having your Bibles with you,
and following along,
you may have to do some quick page-turning at times.

All throughout scripture,
the people of Israel are given specific, and detailed,
instructions—rules, if you will—
about how to relate to the foreigners among them.
And remember, this was a nation and culture
far more tightly bound to each other
than we Americans are—by a long shot.
They had much more to protect than we do—
they had one common religious code of ethics,
that governed their everyday lives,
one common set of daily, weekly, and yearly rituals.
a strong cultural and religious sensitivity about
purity and impurity,
and what they needed to do to stay pure.

Completely unlike we Americans,
they were mono-cultural—one culture.
They certainly needed strong boundaries
to protect and preserve this one culture.
They had a lot to lose, and a lot to protect.
We know God was deeply concerned
about them remaining pure and holy.
So they had legitimate, God-ordained reasons
to fear the influence of pagan foreigners,
who could threaten or corrupt or weaken their way of life.

So how did the people of God protect themselves,
and their cultural and religious borders?
And how did God himself instruct them to do so?

Let’s look. One text we already heard this morning: Deuteronomy 24.
Here’s how God wanted them
to protect themselves from the foreigner:
“You shall not withhold the wages of poor and needy laborers,
whether other Israelites or aliens who reside in your land . . .
you shall pay them their wages daily before sunset,
because they are poor and their livelihood depends on them;
otherwise they might cry to the LORD against you,
and you would incur guilt.
You shall not deprive a resident alien or an orphan of justice . . .
remember that you were a slave in Egypt . . .
therefore I command you to do this.”

Interesting . . . “treat them justly, like any Israelite.”
Where’s the part about keeping aliens away at a safe distance?
Maybe it’s a little later in Deuteronomy, maybe chapter 26?
Here, God instructs the Israelites in one of their holiest rituals—
bringing the first-fruits of the harvest in to the priest,
and giving thanksgiving to God.
So at one of their central acts of holy worship,
this must be where God tells them
how to keep the outsider at arms length,
so they don’t corrupt their holy way of life.
V. 10 says what the Israelites are supposed to do
with their first-fruit basket of produce:
“You shall set it down before the LORD your God
and bow down before the LORD your God.
Then you, together with the Levites
and the aliens who reside among you,
shall celebrate with all the bounty . . .
Then pay the tithe of your produce by giving it to
the Levites . . . the aliens . . . the orphans, and the widows,
so that they may eat their fill within your towns.”

Hmm. It’s got to be in here somewhere.
Maybe it’s in Leviticus . . . that book of the Bible
with all the rigid rules . . . what we call the Holiness Code.
So let’s turn two books back and take a look.
Certainly here, it will spell out how we as God’s people,
have to keep ourselves pure from the outsiders,
how we must protect our boundaries.
Leviticus 19, verse 33:
“When an alien resides with you in your land,
you shall not oppress the alien. [Okay, fine.]
The alien who resides with you shall be to you
as the citizen among you . . . [??]
you shall love the alien as yourself . . . [??]
for you were aliens in the land of Egypt:
I am the LORD your God.”
Leviticus 24, verse 22:
“You shall have one law for the alien and for the citizen:
for I am the LORD your God.”
Back one more book: Exodus 23, verse 9 . . .
“You shall not oppress a resident alien;
you know the heart of an alien,
for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.”

So these scriptures seem more concerned
that we identify with the aliens among us,
and even include them in our community rhythms
of fellowship and feasting and worship,
because we ourselves were once people without a home.

Well . . . maybe where the borders need to be protected,
where the rules get enforced,
is not so much social and religious,
but economic.
Because making a living off the land was hard work,
and didn’t always pay well.
There was a lot of economic risk involved.
So landowning farmers certainly would have the right
to protect their investment,
to get the full benefit of what they grow,
and keep the freeloaders off their land.

Let’s see.
Back to Deuteronomy 24:
“When you reap your harvest in your field
and forget a sheaf in the field,
you shall not go back to get it;
it shall be left for the alien, the orphan, and the widow . . .
When you beat your olive trees, do not strip what is left;
it shall be for the alien . . .
When you gather grapes, do not glean what is left;
it shall be for the alien, the orphan, and the widow.
Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt.”

And Leviticus 19, verse 9:
“When you reap the harvest of your land,
you shall not reap to the very edges of your field,
or gather the gleanings of your harvest.
You shall not strip your vineyard bare,
or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard;
you shall leave them for the poor and the alien:
I am the LORD your God.”

Wow! This is not exactly what we would expect,
from a self-contained mono-culture,
trying to preserve their way of life,
trying to maintain religious purity
and economic stability.

Certainly, God is concerned about moral and religious faithfulness.
There are boundaries to be respected.
For instance, in Exodus we read that to participate in the Passover
aliens must essentially become part of the covenant community,
the males must be circumcised.
And the people of Israel are also strongly warned
not to allow any idols,
or pagan worship rituals into the community.
And as a matter of fact,
the aliens did not have all the same rights as citizens.
They could not own land and property,
and therefore could not raise their own food.

But as much as God is concerned about holiness and purity,
God is just as concerned about justice for the poor and needy.
And this is no minor secondary concern in God’s law.
It’s not an “oh-by-the-way” law.
It’s a consistent command that appears over and over and over.
And it extends to the New Testament,
in the life and teachings of Jesus,
and in the letters to the early church.
We cannot talk our way around it.

Paul in Romans 12:
“Contribute to the needs of the saints;
extend hospitality to strangers.”
The writer of Hebrews in ch. 13:
“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers,
for by doing that some have entertained angels.”

Jesus both taught and modeled
radical hospitality and acceptance of the foreigner.
On multiple occasions, he publicly praised the great faith
of a foreigner living among the Jews.
He said to his disciples in Matt. 10,
“Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me.
And whoever gives even a cup of cold water
to one of the least of these
in the name of a disciple—
truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”
And in Matthew 25, he tells a parable of the final judgement,
saying, “Then the king will say to those at his right hand,
‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father,
inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world;
for I was hungry and you gave me food,
I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink,
I was a stranger and you welcomed me . . .”

And these are but a few of the many biblical words
on how we need to relate to the immigrant, the resident alien,
the foreigner,
not only with a polite tolerance,
but with an active, radical welcome . . .
and a firm commitment that they will not suffer in our land,
or go hungry or homeless.

For no less reason than that God cares deeply about their welfare.
And that the Lord is God.
And we are thus commanded.
_____________________

So how do these ancient biblical words speak truth
into our complicated modern problem,
and our polarized conflict over immigration in America.

What is the gospel word?
What is the biblical bottom-line?
What is the least we should do?
Here is what I would say:
“At the very least . . . let them glean.”
Let them glean.

Think about it.
No, most of us aren’t crop farmers,
and gleaning may be a strange thing to get our heads around.
But let’s just take gleaning as a model
for how our country should relate to immigrants.

Remember, the economy in the Old Testament
was not a cash economy, but an agricultural one.
To survive and thrive you didn’t need cash,
you needed to have decent shelter
and find a way to get hold of grain and other produce.
So the practice of gleaning,
was pure basic economic support of the aliens and other poor.
It was a public assistance program, if you want to say it that way,
funded totally by the landowning farmers.
It ensured there would be no extreme poverty or malnutrition.

And keep in mind,
gleaning was not just something the farmers were told to “allow”
in a passive way.
That is, they were not just told to turn a blind eye,
when the foreigners and other poor people came
to gather up leftovers that just happened to be there.
They were not only told, “Don’t keep them from coming.”
Or, “Don’t build security fences.”
Or, “Don’t send out the National Guard.”
The laws about gleaning required the landowners to be pro-active.
To go out of their way to leave stuff behind.
To purposely, and intentionally,
sacrifice profit and productivity,
in order to guarantee that the aliens had enough to eat.
They were prohibited, by biblical mandate,
from harvesting all the way to the edges and corners of the field.
They were prohibited, by biblical mandate,
from shaking the olive trees more than once.
They were prohibited, by biblical mandate,
to go back into their own harvested field once they left it,
and realized they forgot a good sheaf of wheat laying there.

So when I say, at the very least, let’s let the aliens among us “glean,”
I’m saying God issued a mandate to be pro-active, not reactive.
Wherever we can, we are called to purposely, intentionally,
limit the harvest of our resources
so that aliens among us
have enough to which they can help themselves,
and survive.
If foreigners among us end up suffering and dying
from lack of basic necessities that we could have provided,
and didn’t,
God has feelings about that. It’s pretty clear.

And I would also challenge us never to hide behind
the legal vs. illegal debate.
For one thing, when God looks down on America
and sees a land flowing with milk and honey,
with millions of people in it from south of the border,
who live on the edge of extreme poverty,
multiple families in a single home,
working in dangerous jobs for low wages,
continually subject to discrimination,
resentment from neighbors,
racial profiling,
and sometimes outright violence . . .
I sincerely doubt that God’s compassion for them
hinges on whether or not
they have the right documentation to be here.
And if God has compassion, so must we.

Certainly, there are some, perhaps many,
who come to this country for ulterior motives,
intent to take advantage of others,
to do themselves a favor at someone else’s expense.
Those who flagrantly break laws intended to keep the peace.

But if we dare to listen to the stories of the
undocumented immigrants who are our own neighbors . . .
If we dare to acknowledge and welcome the [quote] “illegal aliens”
who make up, by some estimates, well more than half
of the members of our Hispanic Mennonite churches
and of churches in every other denomination, as well . . .
If we dare to disengage from the polarized political debate,
long enough to listen to real people, real neighbors,
real fellow church members,
we might begin to get a very different, and I think,
more accurate picture
than the one we get listening to talk radio.

These are, for the most part,
persons who once lived in desperately poor,
and sometimes violent situations,
who could no longer stand by and watch their families suffer
because there was no work, and little food.
And who made, in desperation, a choice to survive.
They are not proud of the fact
that they broke a law to help their family live.
And they are now doing all they can to live
quietly and peaceably and productively here and now.
They are mostly persons of Christian faith,
who gather often to worship God and support each other.

We would be shocked, I think, if we knew
how many of our Hispanic neighbors in Harrisonburg
are gathering today to worship Jesus in the Spanish language,
giving heartfelt praise to God,
and going to work tomorrow without proper documents.

Now, what kind of immigration law will provide
the right balance of hospitality and security?
I don’t know the precise answer.
The debate in the public square needs to continue.
But I don’t think we’ve found the balance yet.
Perhaps, as people of Judeo-Christian faith,
our contribution to the debate can be this:
“At the very least . . . let them glean.”
Let’s find creative ways to purposely leave something in the field,
so they and their families can simply survive.
I think it’s what God would want.
It’s what the gospel would say, if we would listen.

Because we, too, were once aliens and strangers.
Our ancestors were slaves in Egypt, so to speak.
In a very real, and human, sense, they are us.
We are members of the same family.

There’s a hymn we sing that celebrates that.
Turn to HWB #322.
For we are strangers no more, but members of one family;
strangers no more, but part of one humanity;
strangers no more, we’re neighbors to each other now;
strangers no more, we’re sisters and we’re brothers now.

—Phil Kniss, November 14, 2010

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Sunday, November 7, 2010

Barbara Moyer Lehman: Why we remember

November 7, 2010 - All Saints Sunday
Ephesians 1:11-23


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All Saints Sunday was celebrated this morning at Park View Mennonite Church. Pastor Barbara Moyer Lehman reminded us that saints are not perfect people. They are people whose love of God is the center of their lives. By the way they live, they draw others toward God. On All Saints Sunday our tradition is to read the names of those from this congregation who have died. Pastor Barbara suggested that this day of remembering might prompt us to consider death. What are our questions, fears, and hopes relating to death? What must we do to "get our house in order"?

We remember the dead to honor them, to remember and learn from how they lived and died. We learn from and are inspired by their example. We remember, and the impact they have on our lives is not ended. In the relay race of life, they have passed the baton of faith to us. We should be mindful of what we must pass on to those who will run the next leg of the relay. In Ephesians 1:11-23, Paul prays for some of what we want to pass on, a transforming encounter with God.

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