The first "goodbye."

Soon after arriving in Pine Ridge, I realized that my life would revolve solely around this building and the ministry that happens out of it.  My "office" is my kitchen table which is in my apartment off of the community kitchen in the building.  On my day off, I really can't putter around and do laundry, since as soon as I step out of my apartment, everyone else is working.  When I'm done for the night and we don't have anyone in the building, I can't even walk out of the apartment without being seen through the front door, should someone be looking into the building.

I also learned this year that I have always been a multi-faceted person and this internship was going to be mono-faceted unless I decided to change it.  What does this mean exactly?  Well, when I was in high school, I applied to college with an entire page of extracurricular activities.  I volunteered.  I played sports.  I worked.  I was on academic teams.  I was in musical ensembles.  In fact, I did a little bit of everything.  The same happened in college.  I was on student government.  I led our activities council.  I was an RA and eventually a Head RA.  I worked...multiple jobs.  And because of this diverse collection of activities and interests, I've always had a diverse population of friends.

Living and working in the same building...without any time to volunteer or join clubs (worked 70-80 hours a week will do that to you), I needed to find ways to get out.

I joined a community choir through the Chadron State College.  Rehearsal was once a week in Chadron, an hour's drive away, but it was one guaranteed time away from the building per week.  I can't say that I became best friends with everyone in the choir but I met a few people who were excited to see me and I was excited to see them.  To them, I was Meredith.  Some knew that I commuted from Pine Ridge and that I was in the process to become a pastor, but they didn't "need" me in the same way that I'm needed in my work.

On April 7th, I sang in our spring concert.  The choir runs on the school schedule, so the concert marked the end of rehearsals until the fall...when I'll be back in Chicago.  Even though I didn't know many of the people well, it made me a bit sad to say goodbye to the people who I did know.

It was my first "goodbye" of internship.  As soon as we started talking about beginning internship last year, we also talked about how to say goodbye.  As pastors, it's particularly hard to say goodbye to a community that has welcome you into their lives.  As an intern, here only for one year, it's a difficult task to form roots and trust, knowing that we'll disappear in 12 months.

I don't know what the rest of the goodbyes will look like, but with less than three months to go, the goodbyes are going to start happening.

Death and Destruction Abounds.

I haven't blogged in awhile, both because I've been busy and because I just don't know what to say right now.  The last few weeks in the larger world has been rather messy.  Boston, Texas, Illinois...Syria, Bangladesh, Israel/Palestine.  On and on and on.  I haven't been quite sure what to say about all of this since frankly, I'm exhausted.  As Nadia Bolz-Weber said--which I won't directly quote since I can't remember it word for word--'I'm just not sure what to say anymore.'  She eventually came to the conclusion in her sermon a few weeks ago that God loves us in spite of the crap in the world.

Here's my sermon from this past Sunday with what I had to offer as far as "good news" in this painful world.

Sermon: John 13.31-35

April 28, 2013: Makasan Presbyterian, St. John Episcopal & Cohen Home

Many Protestant congregations use the Revised Common Lectionary, which is a set of scripture texts chosen to be a part of a three-year cycle.  I love using the lectionary, because then it means that congregations all over the world are hearing the same stories of the Christian faith on the same day.  My friends in Colorado, Washington, Texas and Illinois are preaching on the same texts that I am, which means that when we worship here, in this space, it’s like we’re worshipping with the Church, that is, the capital “C” Church.  The whole collection of people who identify themselves as Christ-followers. 

I also love using the lectionary because it means that the texts come up and I need to preach on them, regardless of my feelings.  And let me tell you, sometimes, looking at the lessons for the week, there are no easy spots to start a sermon! 

But, the BEST part of using the lectionary for me is when the right text comes up for what the life of the community has experienced in recent days.

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.  Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” 

Love one another.  It’s simple, right?  It’s one of those Bible passages that doesn’t need me to preach on it, right?  Love one another! 

Two weeks ago, the city of Boston was turned upside down.  In fact, much of the United States felt like it was turned upside down with the city of Boston.  I watched the news show footage of the bombs going off and the smoke filling the sky.  The women and men who were in the midst of a world-famous marathon, running for pride, for the dedication to their sport, for their families, for themselves, suddenly lost their footing, their hearing, their limbs, their sense of safety.  We’ve watched the news.  We’ve seen the medical reports and the stories of the people who were killed in this catastrophe. 

Now, our focus has moved away from cleaning up the blood in the streets and off our foreheads.  The new focus?  How to destroy the two men being charged with the bombing.  We moved from mourning and sadness into vindication and anger. 

Who has done this to us?  To us?                   How will they pay for this?               

That terrorist doesn’t deserve to be in the same hospital as the victims. 

That woman shouldn’t be allowed to wear a hijab.

These are just more Muslim terrorists out to destroy the safe, fair and just nation of the USA!

And here, sisters and brothers, is where our lesson for today, the lesson that seems randomly chosen by some council in 1994, speaks powerfully to us.  See, saying “Love one another” is easy when you already like the person or you feel bad for a person.  It’s easier to love the person sitting next to you, the one that you came to worship with today.  It’s easier to love Martin, Krystle, Lu and Sean.  It’s a lot harder to love Dzhokhar and Tamerlan. 

The time leading up to Jesus’ death was not a pleasant one.  Jesus and his disciples were huddled together in this hidden space, this upper room, far away from the city streets, to protect themselves for a little while longer against what was coming.  I can’t help but to think that this upper room may have felt more like the upper rooms in the homes of Watertown, Massachusetts, where families huddled together to watch the media footage of their hometown being destroyed. 

I have heard the stories of your own people, huddled together in dark rooms where the windows had to be covered and your ancestors practiced the ancient ceremonies that were prohibited by the Indian Religious Crimes Code.  Fear of being arrested for practicing their faith, much like the early disciples were.  Some chose to deny their beliefs, rather than be taken into custody or killed by the ruling authority.  Some even denied their faith three times before the cock crowed.

If we go back to our text, to the story of Jesus gathering with his disciples in the upper room, we heard earlier that Jesus has given a new commandment to love one another as a sign of our discipleship and dedication to God.  Right before this happens, Jesus looks at Judas and says, “Do quickly what you are going to do.”  Jesus knows that Judas will hand him over to Pilate.  Judas takes his bread and walks out of the room.  After the new commandment, Jesus foretells that Peter will deny him three times. 

I know that you are all biblical scholars here, so let’s review. 

Did Judas hand Jesus over to Pilate like Jesus had predicted?

Did Peter deny Jesus three times, just as Jesus predicted?

Yes and yes.  And, Jesus says to love one another, in the middle of these two events, the moment where he acknowledges who will ultimately set the crucifixion in motion, Judas, and the one who is a close friend, but will deny the friendship, companionship and love of his brother Jesus, this being Peter. 

Suddenly, Jesus telling us to love one another becomes a lot more difficult.  Jesus isn’t saying to only love the people gathered in the upper room.  Jesus hasn’t named off the eight to ten people gathered around in this quiet room, hidden away from the city.  Hidden away from people we don’t like and the people trying to kill us.  Jesus says, “Love one another as I have loved you.”  And, Jesus goes on to say, “By doing this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” 

This message of love isn’t for just the ones gathered inside the room, but for us to love the ones who aren’t in the room.  This message of love isn’t just about the people in the seats next to us.  This message to love one another, the way that Christ loves, is for the ones who have stepped outside.  Love the ones who have denied Jesus Christ.  Love the ones who placed random metal objects into pressure cookers with the desire to destroy lives.  Love the ones who have systematically caused genocide of an entire race of people. 

See, Jesus Christ lived out this command of love by going to the cross to die for each one of us.  Even after being denied and turned in to the Roman authorities, by his own followers, his disciples, his friends, he went to the cross for Judas, for Peter, for Tamerlan, for Martin, for Krystle, for me, for you, for us. 

His love for us is so big and so great, that even when we step out of that upper room and deny him and his love, HE STILL LOVES US!

And if this is the love that Jesus Christ is calling us into, then we live out our discipleship by loving others as he loves us.  We too can choose to love the ones who have stepped out of the room, the ones who have made decisions to hurt others.

This doesn’t eliminate the pain of genocide, bombings, death or heartbreak, nor does loving one another as Christ loves call us to pretend that it doesn’t happen. 

Loving one another is not easy though, nor is it simple.  It is difficult and requires strength that we don’t have on our own.  It’s strength that we get through witnessing the love of Jesus Christ, the one who died on the cross for us, each one of us, no matter what decisions we make or who we surround ourselves with.  This love, this big, awesome love, the type of love that is selfless, pure, patient and kind, is the kind of love the Jesus came into the world to share.  It radiates out of Christ on that cross and throughout the world.  Jesus commands us to receive this gift of love, the love that warms are faces and our bodies and to share this love with one another.

And sometimes, no matter how hard we try, the only way to feel better about the chaos in the world is to cuddle up with someone we love.  

South Dakota Synod: Keep your face on the gun and bridge the gap.

During the week after Easter, I attended the South Dakota Synod's Spring Theological Conference.  The theme of the conference was "Bridging the Cultures."  Specifically, the focus was on bridging the Euro-American culture to the Native American culture.  Dr. Kent Nerburn, the author of Neither Wolf Nor Dog, The Wolf at Twilight, Wisdom of Native Americans and many other books, was the key speaker for this event.  Nerburn is of Euro-American descent and wrote these books after his experiences with different nations of the indigenous people.

I read Neither Wolf Nor Dog prior to beginning my internship as a way to learn more about the culture that I was going to be experiencing.  One of the things that has stuck with me from this book was something Nerburn said about culture.  I can't find exactly where in the book it is, so I won't quote him directly, but it was something along the lines of acknowledging who you are and what your culture holds is key for entering into dialogue with people of other cultures.  And, once you know who you are, you need to maintain that in those dialogues.  Nerburn gave the example of non-Native people who like to come to a reservation and don themselves in turquoise jewelry and talk about the Indian people as if they are one of them.  As I've lived and worked in Pine Ridge, I've get this in mind.  Granted, the Lakota people aren't the turquoise type, but I've seen plenty of wasichu people come through who think that if they dress the part, that they will be accepted as Native.  I'm not Lakota though and I will never be Lakota.

At this conference, Nerburn spoke at a few sessions, but invited local Native people to present as well.  One of the most powerful things that Nerburn shared, to me anyway, was this:

"Do you stare at the blood on the ground or do you look at the common humanity?"

As a person whose skin looks like the early Christian colonizers, I represent the oppressor.  As a United States citizen, I am still the oppressor.  When I lived in Palestine, I was able to write it off and blame Israel as the oppressor of Palestine.  I could see the US funding and involvement in Israel's politics, but my country wasn't the one doing all of this.  My country was and is funding the Occupation, whether or not we want to believe.  Here, on the reservation, my country is still oppressing.

I've struggled with this, since I am only third and fourth generation American.  My brother often speaks passionately about how our people, the Irish immigrants, were oppressed and stigmatized during the major immigration area.  I appreciate this, Chip, I really do.  I also believe that we need to acknowledge how the US government affects and has affected the First Nations.

I can't remember who said this quote, since Nerburn quoted someone, but this person said:

"I am responsible not for the house I built, but for the house in which I live."

Boom.  That's where we respond as humans of 2013.  See, we can wax poetically about how it "wasn't me" or it "wasn't my ancestors" that committed the worst genocide of human history.  Adolf Hilter studied the US Government's mass-murder of the Native people for his work in Nazi Germany.  Similarly, though I don't know as much as I should about this, the key players in the Apartheid in South Africa also studied the work of the United States.

When we claim that it wasn't us, we deny that it happened.  We're staring up and avoiding that there is blood on the ground, the blood of thousands and thousands of people who were forced off their land, into boarding schools, away from their beliefs, values, culture, livelihoods and humanity.  We stripped people of their value, whether we were here or not.  One member of the Spirit Lake Reservation said, "I've learned good English, I'm a good Christian, but I'm now somebody else."  This man was stripped to look like the conqueror.

Now, don't go getting all white-guilt on me, because that's not helpful either.  While we have to acknowledge the blood on the ground, we also have to acknowledge the human beings sitting across from us at the table.  We have to read news articles with the wisdom to discern where the implicit racism lies.  We have to think critically about the statistics of people who are incarcerated.

Furthermore, we need to acknowledge the humanity in each individual.  By saying that Oprah is a successful black woman, we say that she is a "credit to her race" and her sex, because she is successful.  She then becomes the exception, rather than the norm.  Do we say that Bill Gates is a successful white man?  Generally not.

Someone asked, "What do we do in the face of this experience?"  My friend Jonathan, a member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, said, "We have to make damn sure that it never happens to anyone again."

Because, friends, the last step in genocide is the denial of genocide.

This conference allowed important conversations happen and important voices to be heard, but it merely scratched the surface of bridging the cultural gap.

On a completely different note, one of the ways that I bridged a cultural gap at this conference was to participate in a South Dakota cultural activity.  I went trap shooting.  And, I'll be honest, I got pretty good at it.  The first rule of trap shooting though?  Keep your face on the gun.  For you city folks, trap shooting is when you use a shotgun to shoot at clay disks.  This vegetarian didn't shoot anything living.