A Love that Never Ends

 1 Corinthians chapter 13 is one of the best known biblical passages because it is a huge part of pop culture.  It also happens to be one of the most common readings at wedding services.  Read the excerpt below and pick out those parts which seem most familiar to you:

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.  Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

How do you read this? What do you think of?  I think about some of the interior decorations I've seen at Target and stores like it where "Faith, Hope and Love" are artistically adorned in reds and pinks, ready to be hung in a bathroom or along a staircase.  I also think of all the people I've known named Faith or Hope (no, I've never met anyone named Love).  Finally, I think of all of the weddings I've been to where this passage has been read.  None of these modern contexts is bad - in fact, it's nice to know that the Bible is as accessible now as it was when it was written.  But there is a challenge in keeping this sacred text sacred. 

     The passage is very accessible - so accessible that, at times, the importance of the passage's context is lost.  One substantial context in which this passage can be understood is in the Biblical context.  What does the Bible say about Love?  John writes a lot about love.  The Gospel of John contains perhaps the most famous Biblical passage: John 3:16 says, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life."  There are so many passages that talk about how God is love.  The great thing is, this kind of Love is eternal because God is eternal.  "Love never ends."

     Our loving God creates opportunities for us to find happiness, contentment and the kind of love we see in Hallmark cards.  In these times, 1 Corinthians is easily remembered for its words, but not for its context.  But God's love isn't just present in the best of times, the times when we know our gifts (prophecy, tongues, knowledge) and when we've got all our stuff together.  This is where understanding 1 Corinthians' context is important.  

The passage teaches us the importance of having love.  But how do we get there when times are bad but we must persevere, anyway?  God's love is there when we are a noisy gong and a clanging cymbal; we are not perfect.  The rest of the Bible teaches us that, even when we are at our worst, when we don't even know we do things less than lovingly, God loves us, anyway.  God sent his son, Jesus, to us to live like us and die like us.  Jesus fills us up in love where and when we cannot find love.  

     When we remove 1 Corinthians 13 from the larger context where God is love, it becomes an instruction manual that sets a nearly impossible standard for how to live; it can be really hard to find love sometimes.  But, when we remember that God loves us and makes us eternally whole through his Grace, our efforts to live our lives in love is made possible.  God's love is always there.  

Something Old, Something New

      One of my favorite lessons came around in church this past Sunday.  It is 1 Corinthians 12: 12-31 where Paul writes to the people of Corinth and tells them the good news that each of us is called into God's fold inspite and because of our differences.  Each of us has different gifts, but we are all part of the greater Body of Christ.  As Paul writes,

                             But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, 
                             as he chose.  If all were a single member, where would the body be? 
                            As it is, there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say 
                            to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "
                           I have no need of you."

Paul uses this analogy, comparing the physical body to the spiritual Body, to reinforce the idea that our differences are a necessary part of God's kingdom.  Not only should we value our differences, but we should understand them as necessary means to a fully-operating spiritual community.
     Appreciating differences is so important for these reasons and because, frankly, differences are inevitable and part of our human existence.  To deny our differences or to use them as means of creating hierarchy are poor alternatives.  Are these our only options?  Do we have the choice either only to celebrate differences or to shun them? No, because we are also invited to experience sameness.
     It is easy to read Paul's words and look solely at the message which tells us to cherish that which is different.  This is especially true in our modern contexts.  But what about that which is the same?  We all share in the human experience - we are all capable of feeling pain, joy, anger and love.  This interpersonal sameness helps us understand each other better and express compassion as Christ calls us to do.  Likewise, in our personal lives, sameness happens in our day-to-day activities and even throughout events in our lifetime.  We wake up and sleep, we eat and drink and we go about the work we have to do.
      So, how do we celebrate our similarities? The sameness in our lives?  In today's Prayer, we ask God to help us during the start of another semester to see his grace and presence in those things which we have seen so many times before.  Yes, it is easy to look at "sameness" and think "stagnant" or "monotonous," but the mundane (like the spontaneous or new) is also a part of God's creation.  How do we appreciate it?  Part of this is recognizing the small differences in seemingly similar experiences.  But the other part is understanding that our lives are patterned and sometimes repetitive because God is calling us to revisit something important: a person, a place or a virtue.
       We are called again and again by God to draw closer to Him and to the work he has set before us.  Sometimes he reveals new gifts, new challenges and new missions.  Sometimes, he calls us to practice that which will make us stronger through patience.  When we appreciate differences, between ourselves and others and between each of our experiences,  we can find harmony where there once was dissonance.  And, when we recognize sameness, we have an opportunity to practice patience and compassion.

A Special Offer

      For my fifteenth (or maybe sixteenth) birthday, I had one request.  I wanted “random crap.”  Full disclosure.  Those were my words.  I don’t remember everything I got, but I believe my family was more than obliging.  My sister got me an Elmo digital clock keychain and threw in some brightly colored scraps of paper.  I was fully satisfied.  

  Years later, as a semi-grown up person, I still thoroughly enjoy well-compiled randomness.  I think that’s just how my mind works.  Maybe that’s why I became an English major.  “Yes students,” my mental professor (argyle and all) says, “A research paper is, in essence, a random pile of facts strewn together in such a way that you convince your audience that you have proven something altogether new and cohesive.”  After receiving the compliment of my academic career - a note on my 12-page final essay in a very challenging literary theory class - “This is the best undergraduate research paper I have read in a very long time”, I realized my love for stringing together random crap was a true calling. 

  And I’m certainly not the only one.  Recently, I’ve found a new curiosity in “Subscription Boxes.”  I’m sure you’ve seen them.  Here’s how it works.  You find a genre of box that meets your interest.  It is much like subscribing to Vogue if you like fashion or Sports Illustrated if you’re the office manager at a health clinic (oh, I do make myself laugh).  If you have an interest, there’s a box for you.  Then, after choosing a subscription length (usually 1 month to 1 year) and forking over your credit card, you get a nice, neat, box of random crap mailed to you for the aforementioned length of time.  I’m not trying to be facetious.  The company you subscribe to literally puts together a bunch of stuff meeting your interest (hiking, knitting, cat herding etc) into a box each month and mails it to you.

I’m being partly sarcastic and partly ONE HUNDRED PERCENT serious when I say how cool is that?  The sarcastic bit is really asking, “why on earth would you want to pay money for a stranger to mail you a bunch of stuff you don’t even know if you’ll like?  What if it’s all junk? Just a bunch of crap?” The one hundred percent serious part of me has so many reasons (okay, at least two).  First, we like to identify ourselves with stuff.  “I am a runner” turns into having running clothes, running shoes, running stuff in general.  Being a writer, a painter or a dog lover all equate to other accessories.  All arguments of capitalism aside (that’s for a later blog, I’m sure), this psychology makes a lot of sense.  When we see ourselves a certain way, we try to help others see us that way, too.

Second, we like to imagine that there is someone out there who gets us.  I think this was my true wish that year for my birthday.  I wanted to make it seem like I was carefree, like it didn’t matter to me if my family got me a bunch of random crap.  But what I really wanted was to see how much they could get it right, how well they knew me down to the trivial, inconsequential stuff.  With the boxes, we like to imagine that someone is out there and they know who we are and what we care about and can just send it to us in a box.  

Here’s the really cool thing.  God does all of the best parts of this and does it with no strings attached.  Before I go too far, I’m not saying “Life is like a box of random crap.” Just go with me for a minute.  Imagine that every single day, not just a month or a year, God presents you with everything in life: all the things you love, all the things that make you a better person (even when it’s hard), all the joy, all the sorrow and all the random stuff that goes on in our daily existence.  We subscribe to life and God gives us so much of what we need and knows, to our deepest self, who we are and where we belong.  We don’t have to surround ourselves with stuff to be Christians.  We don’t have to spend money.  Jesus offered himself on the cross, paying the ultimate price for our sins, long before we even had a chance.   God’s offer is open to us every day and in every experience and is free of cost.  But just as having the right shoes doesn’t make you a runner if you don’t use them, God’s grace and love (even though freely given) can only be truly realized when we accept them.  We are called to believe we are God’s people and then, as Christians, show that love back to our world.  

So you’re invited to take part in this special offer.  Why wait? 

Are We There Yet? Getting Closer to God

I saw a sign the other day that made me laugh.  It said something to the effect of “The one thing that binds us together as humans, regardless of our age, race, religion or social status is that, deep down, we all believe we are above average drivers.”  Now, if Jimmy John’s can forgive me for this terrible paraphrase, I can forgive them for this crass generalization.  

You don’t know me, Jimmy John’s.

I am a terrible driver.   Certainly, I would not say that I am “above average.”  Maybe I should say I’m a decent driver with terrible confidence.

Living in New Jersey for four years had its advantages - I never had to drive.  Either the resources I needed were close enough to get to on foot or, if not, there was public transit that could take me where I needed to go.  My university even had a public bus system spanning 3 towns.  Let’s just say, I got spoiled.  Then, moving to Wisconsin, I had a wake-up call.  The grocery store closest to me is a little too far for comfortably toting bags.  If I want fancier groceries or more variety, the next closest store is definitely too far.  If I’m looking to have some fun, I can take the Metra to Chicago, but it doesn’t come as frequently to my town (Kenosha) as it does to other towns south of the border.  You get the picture.

Eventually, the choice was laid clear before me.  I could either live the rest of my life within a 3-mile radius (a prospect which gets gloomy even to a self-proclaimed home-body), or I could get back behind the wheel.  It took a long time - more than a year of living here - to get up the courage to drive.   But soon enough, driving three or four blocks turned into applying for and driving to a job in the next town.  Then, as I started making new friends, I drove to towns 45 minutes away.  My swearing off of highway driving didn’t last much past a couple of serendipitous (i.e. unintentional) re-routes from my GPS.  This past summer, I was able to leave a job that wasn’t working out (one that was in a close driving distance) for a job as a camp counselor at Lutherdale Bible Camp in Elkhorn - an awesome opportunity that led me to where I am now: your chaplain at University of Wisconsin Whitewater.            
It seems so odd to me now, looking back, to think that I would have let so many opportunities pass by because I thought myself incapable of doing something.  Sure, I am still cautious when I drive, I always have to wear my glasses and sometimes I slow way down to make sure I’m not about to run over those stupid construction cones.  But, in general, I’m past the point of letting fear stop me from doing what I want.  

In our faith lives, we need to break down barriers between us and God.  For me, God is in experiencing the world, being around new people, doing new things and taking adventures.  How much would I have missed out on if I had let my fear of driving turn into an obstinate refusal to do so?  It had, for so long, been just that; I would get in arguments with my husband about my ability to drive saying things like “you know I don’t see well” and “do you want me to die just so we can have some groceries?”. That last argument would sometimes get so out of perspective that I would go as far as to blame him, saying, “Why can’t you just go to the grocery store? Can’t you make time to help around the house?”  So, in so many ways, my fear of driving was separating me from the love of God.  Not only was I missing out on a lot of rich experiences, but I was ready to sacrifice my relationships to save my pride.  

I won’t go as far as to say I’m “above average” in driving, nor will I say that I am close to perfect in fixing all the things that separate me from God’s love (and it certainly isn’t for God’s lack of showing love, either).  But I am improving and I want to share the good news that we all can know God a little better.  

This week, I invite you to pray (one sure-fire way to strengthen our relationship with God) about those things which keep you from experiencing all of the gifts of the life you’ve been given.  What are you afraid of doing? What have you put off? What - if you can dig a little deeper - have you blamed others for  that is really a reflection of a way you blame yourself?  I pray that you will know God a little better each day as you find new ways to know yourself and all you are capable of.  

You're Invited

     Each month during the 2014-2015 school year, the Lutheran Episcopal Campus Ministry will celebrate, strive for and embody a word or phrase of the Christian faith. September's word is Invite. This is a great word, especially as UWW's newest students arrive to campus, eager to do and become something new. It is a privilege to invite students, new and old, to join us in Faith, Fellowship and Food (ah, yes, the first Spaghetti Meal is September 14th) and to welcome them into the Christian community on campus.

     Inviting others to partake in something we know to be special is an exciting thing. But with this privilege comes a responsibility to open our arms just a little bit wider. Thinking in every day examples, when you invite a guest to your home, is your work done? Do you expect to gain a friend without offering your home address, opening the front door and offering a refreshment? Probably not. When we invite others to Christ's table, we joyfully grow our community for that moment, but to truly show Christ's love, we also need to be genuinely hospitable.

     Whereas invitation can leave room for difference - the inviter and the invitee, the host and the guest - hospitality can erase difference by setting a standard of servanthood. I think about this important relationship (and important difference) this week as the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, along with leaders in other denominations, called for a nation-wide, interfaith response to racism. This call comes after members of an African Methodist Episcopal Church were shot and killed in June 2015 by a white racist during a Bible study (read the full letter from The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori here). Clergy from many faith communities took the call and talked with their congregations about racism in our culture today, a brave beginning step to what has been and will be a long conversation.

     The Presiding Bishop's invitation for people of faith to be open with one another about our experiences with racism allows us to invite one another into conversation. Invitation is contagious. When hospitality follows the invitation, when servanthood and a shared respect for one another are fostered, invitations grow into a lasting, positive community in Christ. It stops mattering who is host or guest, rich or poor, majority or minority and only matters how we can serve one another in Godly love.

     At LECM, we invite you to share all your stories and experiences with us. As Jesus invited us to his table and shared with us everlasting life, may we be inspired to live in fellowship with one another and invite each other into conversation every day.

Practice. Practice. Practice.

I always listen to the host of the News and Classical station on WPR as he or she announces the next piece of classical music.  I like to learn about the music I’m listening to, and, even more fun, I like to pretend as if, by already knowing the shared musical trivia, I am a classical music genius.  So, I perked up one afternoon as Lori Skelton’s voice came over the waves.  I was all ears about the upcoming sonata.  That is, until I realized it was a flute sonata.

Ugh I thought Who knows anything about the flute?  Well (as I had already mentally interjected) quite a lot of people know about flute, including my very own piano teacher who would likely kick my butt if she knew I was looking down on that instrument.  Fine I thought Anyone can like flute, but I’m not required to.

By the time I’d finished this internal dialogue about whether I was a terrible person for not liking the flute, the music had started.  After several minutes of trying to get a foothold in some kind of musical analysis of the piece, I realized something that really amazed me.  The flute coming through my radio was the smoothest sounding thing I’d heard in a long time.  This especially amazed me because I’ve heard new flautists play, and it can be anything but soothing.  If there is one thing I know about flutes (and, yes, there may only be one), it’s that breathing breaks can disrupt even a well-practiced piece.  

As I continued listening, I thought about all the times people, including myself, disregard the value of something because of a lack of understanding.  That is, a person can recognize what something is or the purpose it serves (a flute sonata for people who enjoy the sounds of a flute sonata) without understanding the work that went into creating it.  So much beauty and worth is missed when things are taken at surface value.  A hand-made gift, a passing report card or a well-planned going-away party could easily be taken for granted by someone who buys the best gifts, gets straight A’s without an effort or who has never practiced hospitality.

Practice is one major difference between living a truly rich life and a life of instant - and fleeting - gratification.  Let’s revisit the analogy of music.  Yes, it is quite possible to enjoy music simply by clicking a mouse and downloading the latest album from your favorite artist.  Music can evoke powerful emotions and enliven us in ways nothing else can.  But wouldn’t it be nice if we understood just a little bit more?  Once we know what kind of sounds we enjoy, what kinds of tempos make our blood flow and even how to create new music, ourselves, our experience is richer, deeper and more meaningful.  

Of course, the ability to make music takes a lot of practice - most people don’t wake up being Mozart (except, maybe, Mozart).  But once we dedicate ourselves to practicing something we love, not only do we learn a skill we enjoy and can share with others, but we learn something bigger.  In practicing something, we learn to appreciate all the things in life that take more than the flip of a switch.  I could appreciate that flute sonata, not because I understand how to play flute, but because I understand that the level of practice and dedication I use in my own life - in knitting, in playing piano and in having faith - is the same for the person playing music for me.

Faith is one of the most difficult practices to have, but also one of the best and most rewarding.  It is challenging because faith is not something of which we perform drills, test or touch with our hands.  It is not a skill or a talent or a gift reserved for a select few.  But having faith enhances our lives and strengthens us, despite and because of all life’s challenges, to do the work of God in our world.  May we find a way to practice our faith in a way that will help our world and open our eyes to understanding one another.

New Beginnings

As another school year begins, students pack up their home lives, purchase books and supplies and say goodbye, for now, to summer.  Teachers finalize rosters and syllabi and set up for the first weeks of class.  It is a busy time and it is easy to get caught up in making sure everything is in perfect order.  We do so much to make ourselves feel ready.  Where can we find God in such a busy time?  

God is in newness.  The Bible is full of stories and images of newness.  Not least of these is the new life we find in Christ through Baptism. In the Lutheran and Episcopal traditions, Baptism is a Sacrament - an outward sign of an inward grace (to paraphrase a common definition).  The literal waters of baptism physically wash the baptized person, reflecting the way God’s grace, although invisible, washes away our sin and makes us new.

I think about the newness of Baptism and the newness of a school year because of our efforts, as humans, to reconcile the tangible and the invisible.  We see beauty in external markers of how we feel inside.  For school, new books, school supplies and dorm essentials present us with physical ways to start afresh.  This tendency and desire to balance internal and external is true in our faith lives, too.

Baptism is the perfect example.   We think of Baptism and all of the stuff that comes along with it - a baptismal font, a tux or white dress, a cake, a church, a minister.  These things range from seemingly essential to obviously trivial, but are any of them absolutely necessary for baptism?  The answer is no.  These items are meant to serve as guideposts for the act of baptism, but when the tangible requirements are not available or possible, God’s grace happens anyway.  

It is when we get caught up in the tangible requirements, no matter how essential (the textbooks, the ministers), that we lose sight of the gift of newness we have been given.  Yes, please buy your textbook for Chemistry 101 and show up to church a little earlier than the sermon on the day of your baptism, but don’t struggle with the tangible things so much that the real gift of the experience is forgotten.

Ready or not, the school year is approaching, and with it comes a new opportunity to learn and to find God in every experience.  May you remember your baptism, or another way God has given you new opportunity, and give thanks for the grace which is given unconditionally.