Commissioned and Called

This morning, during the worship service at James Lees Presbyterian Church, my congregation chose to offer up a commissioning for this next month of service. They stood together, in a pledge to remember and support me, and prayed for the situation I am entering. When I arrived (later than I had hoped), I read the liturgy the Worship Committee had prepared and nearly wept because of the tender understanding their writing demonstrated. Phil Lloyd-Sidle, the author and my minister, had composed the following when another of our congregants, Arch Taylor, left to participate in a Christian Peacemaker Team delegation in the Middle East. It will be used again in three months, when my friend and co-worshipper Billie Healy embarks upon her term as an accompanier in November. It astounds me that our congregation of 50 can produce so many steadfast and faithful followers. I have included the liturgy here. Use it as you see fit, but make sure to credit it to Phil. Normal lettering indicates an individual speaker; bold lettering indicates group recitation.

Each of us is on a journey of faith, seeking to lay claim to and share the love and mercy of God. In the church we hear the call from Jesus Christ to be disciples, faithful to God's will.

In a spirit of love and trust,
we seek to be guided in our discipleship by the way of Christ,

a way of love and justice, of care and of reconciliation,

Of good news to the poor and release to the captives,
of recovery of sight to the blind,
and freedom for the oppressed.

The way of Christ, as well, the way of the cross. In Christ we live this paradox: the path of love is also the path of the cross.

Yet our suffering is not the last word.

That which appears silenced and forsaken is in the eternal mystery of Christ resurrected and transformed.

The way of Christ is the way of reconciliation,
of bringing down the walls of hostility,
and of being led by the Holy Spirit to participate
in new creations of justice and peace.

Today, we encourage each other to be reconcilers and peacemakers, to follow in the way of Jesus Christ. We pray a special blessing on Amy and on the Colombian Presbyterian church. May the violence stop.

We pledge to pray for you, Amy, and your colleagues, and for the people of Colombia.

Let us affirm our faith as expressed in one portion of the Brief Statement of Faith:

In a broken and fearful world the Spirit gives us courage
to pray without ceasing,
to witness among all peoples to Christ as Lord and Savior,
to unmask idolatries in church and culture,
to hear the voices of peoples long silenced,
and to work with others for justice, freedom, and peace.
In gratitude to God, empowered by the Spirit,
we strive ot serve Christ in our daily tasks
and to live holy and joyful lives,
even as we watch for God's new heaven and new earth,
praying, "Come, Lord Jesus!"
With believers in every time and place,
we rejoice that nothing in life or in death
can separate us from the love of God
in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

Grateful beyond measure for the infinite blessings of God, may we respond with our lives. Let us sing our thanks.

(sung)
Gracias, Senor, por lo que nos das
Gracias por bendecirnos
Gracias por tu fidelidad Y por tu provision.
Te doy de lo que tu me das,
Con gozo en mi corazon.
Recibe hoy mi ofrenda,
Te la entrego a ti.

Amy, will you seek to follow the way of Christ as best as you are able?

You have our prayers and our blessing. Let us pray.

(silence)

The Servant Song, by Richard Gillard (audio here)

Brother, Sister, Let me serve you,
Let me be as Christ to you;
Pray that I may have the grace to
Let you be my servant, too.

We are pilgrims on a journey;
We're together on this road.
We are here to help each other
Walk the mile and bear the load

I will hold the Christ-light for you
In the nighttime of your fear;
I will hold my hand out to you,
Speak the peace you long to hear.

I will weep when you are weeping;
When you laugh, I'll laugh with you.
I will share your joy and sorrow
Till we've seen this journey through.

When we sing to God in Heaven,
We shall find such harmony,
Born of all we've known together
of Christ's love and agony.


Benediction









Audio courtesy of "St. Luke's Jukebox"
"Brief Statement of Faith" from the Book of Confessions of the Presbyterian Church (USA)

What I Can

If you check the links, you will see "What I Can," which is a blog written by Rachel Ernst. She, also, will be serving in Barranquilla, arriving on Sept 26 (about 5 days before I leave). I hope that you all continue to follow her journey as well!
Amy

Of The Displaced Christ

Colombia is a land in mourning. Its' citizens are drowning in a 40 year flood of bloodshed. Homes are ravaged; villages destroyed; leaders assassinated. Those who cry for peace and nonviolence in the midst of conflict are falsely accused of cooperating with guerillas because of they stand to support the victim. It is a homeland where the social manifestations of our sin have become evident in their ugliness.

Two years ago, the Presbyterian Church (USA), the denomination I take pride to call my own, listened intently to the witness born up by those marginalized and homeless as a result of a seemingly endless conflict. We recieved a petition from our brothers and sisters in the Colombian Presbyterian Church (IPC) , asking simply for the ministry of presence amidst their trials. The IPCs leaders and pastors were being threatened and even killed for speaking out on behalf of nonviolence. They knew that our presence, our accompaniment, as North Americans would lend them a voice, visibility, and safety they would not otherwise enjoy. Soon after, the PC (USA) and Presbyterian Peace Fellowship teamed together to respond to the plea of our partners in ministry. Since January of 2005, we have sent teams to act on God's call to support the oppressed and the victim within the context of the Colombian conflict. We have stood with our comrades in support, and in doing so, have enriched the faith life of our own churches.

In less than two weeks, I, too, will take my place alongside the displaced and the threatened. I will arrive in Barranquilla in order to learn, grow, participate with, and assist the IPC. I wait in anticipation in order to participate in the creation of a peaceable kingdom.

In preparation, I read Jane Woods' meditation on Advent, written while waiting for signs of Christ's coming in December 2005. She reminds us that Christ was born in the midst of guerrilla warfare, as Judean factions fought against the Roman Empire. She points out that Christ's family, like the families of those in Colombia's displacement camps, were required to leave their homes because of government mandate. Mary and Joseph, like the multitude of Marias and Joses, were also temporarily housed in a makeshift shelter in the sweltering heat of a near-equatorial region. Christ's family was, quite literally, among the displaced, the desplazados.

In Liberating Eschatology: Essays in Honor of Letty Russell, Rosemary Radford Ruether elaborates on Russell's description of eschatological hope as "memories of the future," as visions of what our community is called to be, writing "Ultimately, our liberating memories of the future are rooted in God’s working in history, seeking to make us God’s partners in redeeming creation... Our memories of the many ways in which we have experienced redemption are finally memories of our response to and partnership with God when we acted for transformation and justice, when we celebrated its sign of presence in our midst." Russell, in her writings as well as through Ruether's discussion, calls us to understand that preparation for Christ's second coming requires preparing our own world to better reflect what we know God would will. It is to understand that Christ, who was and is still among the displaced and the marginalized, is in the process of redeeming our individual and social brokenness and sin. It is to accept our call to participate in that redemption. This is why we each go; to make true our understanding that hope requires action. It is to take our place alongside the Displaced Christ who is making a home out of the shambles left by war.