Another Sunday...

Sundays are killing me. I mean that in the best way. I think, maybe though, I need to be a hermit. Introverts, I'm not sure are cut out for life in large congregations.

Yesterday was another rich Sunday.

I arrived at the church at 8:30, furiously running around to get my business together--make a few copies, post a few signs--in time for prayer with the clergy at 9. I made it in time (rare for me)... or maybe I was late, but just less late than the other clergy....

At 9:30 I raced to Starbucks for a small black coffee and back to my office to get my things ready for teaching the baptism class. We'll have 6 or 7 children baptized in the service next week, and it's become my joy and duty to teach the parents about what baptism means. I always love doing this class, in part because I'm in awe of baptism as a rite of initiation. I begin the class by playing Allison Krauss' version of "Down to the River to Pray," to get people to envision an entire community gathering at the river for this amazing event. And we talk about Scripture and Jesus' baptism, and about the Holy Spirit's presence, and about the importance of the faith commitment that parents make on behalf of their children, and about how baptism is not a protective shield, but a mark of love and sacrifice. I conclude the day by playing my good friend Mark Miller's song "Come to the Water"

Yesterday's class, as is usual, was incredibly diverse. You do not have to be a member of our church to receive the sacrament of baptism, so often we are able to work with families from incredibly different backgrounds, who've struggled and struggled to find a church home. Yesterday was no different--three out of the four couples were in that situation. One is a Southern Baptist-Catholic marriage, another a same-sex, interfaith partnership. I am blessed that I serve at a place where we can honor and serve these families when other churches haven't found a way to do so.

Baptism class ran late, so I tore back to my office at 10:55 to throw together my announcements for worship. Again, I missed prayer with the elders and deacons--I feel like I did in high school when I was consistently late and had to serve detention for missing the first 10 minutes of first period.

Our preacher in worship was the Rev. Gregg Mast, President of New Brunswick Theological Seminary. He preached on Jeremiah's vision of the Potter and the Potter's Wheel. It was a rich sermon--he did a wonderful job of talking about sin as the resistance of the clay. I'm going to re-listen to the sermon just for that piece alone. But toward the end, he asked us to remember that both the Potter's Wheel image and Jesus' vision of the last judgment during which sheep will be separated from goats based on works of mercy to the poor and oppressed are COLLECTIVE, not individual images. I am not the clay. Israel is the clay. We are the clay. It is not individuals, the Bible says, who will be judged as sheep or goats, but NATIONS. We can't get self righteous... we live and die, are saved or lost, together. Hm.

After service we had an incredibly rich congregational meeting, which I will not discuss here for the sake of confidentiality. But it was a step in the direction of open dialog and communication within our congregation, which seems like it'll be critically important during a time of transition to a new senior pastor.

After the meeting, at 1:30, the young adult community had our first of four facilitated conversations on racial identity and faith. I've been hungering for this conversation for a few years at Marble. We are gifted with a rather diverse congregation, but as a liberal, the fact of our congregation's diversity raises all kinds of questions about whether this is an intentional or an accidental diversity. What's the importance of the difference? It's whether we are intentionally blind to our differences or see them and identify them as part of what makes us a powerful community. I've long wondered how racially diverse Christian communities navigate these waters. My feeling is that racial identity needs to be part of our frame of understanding one another... that we can't afford to regress too quickly to "in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek" and pretend that we're all the same.

The conversation was good. It wasn't as well attended by our young adults as I would have hoped, but the spirit in the room was tremendous. I'm heartened.

In the midst of all of this, some of my faithful volunteers put together 50 lunches and took them down to Madison Square Park to serve them as part of Sunday worship with the ecclesia church community for homeless women and men. This ministry is growing and doing well. Again, I'm quite heartened because "doing church" together is truly facilitating relationships between homeless and housed people. I'm hoping this will end the isolation that allows many homeless persons to stay in that situation for long periods of time.

Left at 5:05 today. Came home for a beautiful walk through Washington Square with my wife, my son, and my dog.