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Episodes
Foundry is an historic, progressive United Methodist Church that welcomes all, worships passionately, challenges the status quo, & seeks to transform the world.
Episodes
Sunday Jan 18, 2015
Sunday Jan 11, 2015
Sunday Jan 11, 2015
Being Beloved
A homily preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC, January 11, 2015, the Baptism of the Lord.
Texts: Genesis 1:1-5, Mark 1:4-11
In the beginning, the earth was formless and chaotic, tohu wabohu, empty and desolate. And the Spirit moved across the waters and God spoke. And there was light. And it was good. Creation began.
The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ is also in the empty and desolate place, in the wilderness. And the voice of John the baptizer cries out: repent and be forgiven! And Jesus comes to that place of brokenness, moves into the waters of chaos, steps into the thin place where sin and grace meet, and once again the Spirit moves and God speaks. As Jesus is baptized, his true identity is affirmed and confirmed; the light of the world has come to guide us, to heal us, to help us be truly and fully human. New creation begins. And the words spoken by God to initiate this new life are words of love: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
At the beginning of this new calendar year, having just journeyed through another “holiday season” I wonder whether anyone here is feeling like they are in the wilderness, or feeling a little empty after all the activity, or trying to recover from something that happened, or simply trying to get things back to normal, to settle the chaos and regain some equilibrium. Travel and families—while great blessings—can also wear us out and knock us off balance! It’s amazing the layers of emotion and experience that emerge through these days… Some of us may be entering into this new year bearing deep grief and concern about loved ones or situations in our lives; some of us begin this year with a renewed sense of excitement and anticipation; some will have made new year’s resolutions, determined to make a new start, to begin again, to try to change life for the better.
And today, bringing our resolutions and our baggage, our hurts and our hopes, we stand at the banks of the Jordan River, that historically powerful place of crossing from the wilderness into the promised land, that flowing symbol of passage from one life into another, and we are given the opportunity to remember our Baptism and to ponder its meaning. We are invited to open ourselves to the Spirit who moves across the waters with the power to calm chaos, and to hear the voice of God speaking words that heal and strengthen our hearts: “You are my daughter, you are my son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” God speaks these words to you, just as they were spoken to Jesus, at baptism.
The United Methodist Book of Worship says that, “The Baptismal Covenant is God’s word to us, proclaiming our adoption by grace…” Through Baptism, we are adopted by God and brought into the Christian family, made sisters and brothers with Christ and one another, incorporated into God’s own life, enfolded into God’s love. This doesn’t mean that you are outside of God’s love prior to Baptism—but rather, that at Baptism, like Jesus, your truest identity is affirmed and confirmed, namely, that you are a beloved child of God. Regardless of and superseding any other reality in your life, you are God’s child, the Beloved.
Over the years, I have discovered how difficult it is to believe this, how hard it can be to truly and fully receive the love of God. Part of that is surely due to our well-learned defenses; having been disappointed, hurt, ignored, betrayed, abandoned, or rejected by those dear to us, mighty walls get built around our hearts. Grief and anger can also get in the way. The rules we learn in the world that tell us we have to earn love keep us focused on our own activity rather than on God’s freely given gift. And yet another obstacle to receiving God’s love is our own sense of unworthiness, our awareness of our own failures and sin which can make us feel beyond God’s reach. Through the seasons of Christmas and Epiphany, we are reminded that God is determined to reach us, determined to get through to us, determined to touch our hearts with grace and with love. Jesus comes to us and takes on our flesh, is baptized into our life so that we might be baptized into God’s life and receive the fullness of God’s love. But, even so, it is hard to believe.
For the past number of years, one of my spiritual disciplines includes spending eight days in silent retreat. I make my retreat at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville, PA, and am assigned a spiritual director who provides 30 minutes of guidance each day for my prayer with the scriptures. On one of my earliest retreats, I arrived with a pre-planned agenda for the week. I knew what outcomes I wanted and the areas on which I should focus. God had other plans… After days of wearing myself out trying to make my agenda work, I was given an extraordinary message. As I took my daily hike, all of a sudden and out of nowhere moments in my life for which I felt deepest regret appeared in my mind’s eye, I saw the sins I had committed, the broken places I held as heavy baggage, the weight of which I believed I had to carry forever as penance. And a voice spoke into each and every scene and broken place: “There I loved you. And then I was loving you. I loved you then and then and even in that place. In that moment I loved you.” The words of God’s love poured into all the broken places of my life. And all at once I realized that, though I had preached of the love and mercy of God for years, I was still walking around believing that God’s love couldn’t penetrate those places within my own life for which I felt the most shame.
We know that the flow of water—even a trickle if it flows long enough—can carve through solid rock. Sometimes, the baptismal water’s flow takes years to cut through our pain or regret or self-determined plans. It is one reason why this annual encounter at the Jordan River with Jesus and John is so important. Because it reminds us that the waters of our Baptism keep flowing across the days and the years, washing away layers of hurt and guilt that can encrust themselves on our lives like barnacles, seeping deep within to nurture seeds of new life. Some might call this God’s sanctifying grace… And if we remember and are aware, if we remain open to receive it, if we remain in the flow of God’s grace, then the love of God will refresh us, will lift the burdens that weary our souls, will encourage our best aspirations and give new strength to our lives. It may happen little by little; it may happen with the force of a flood; but however it works in your life, the flow of God’s loving, saving grace will continue to form and cleanse and renew and comfort and empower you—often in ways that God alone may know is needed. All we have to do is try to be open to receive God’s mercy, God’s love, God’s embrace.
Today you and I have the opportunity remember our baptism and to give thanks—and for those who are not baptized, to ponder its meaning and consider how God may be moving in your life.
// In just a moment, you will be invited reach into the water and pick up a stone. For the Baptized let it remind you of the baptismal grace you receive, that covers and cleanses and continues to bless you. And for others feel free to take a stone as a reminder of whatever message the Spirit carries for you this day. Carry that stone with you or place it somewhere you will see it each day. Let it be a reminder to you of the truth of your life, confirmed by the words God speaks to you today and every day: “You are my child, my beloved. With you I am well pleased.”
Monday Jan 05, 2015
Monday Jan 05, 2015
Light-Infused People
A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC January 4, 2014, Epiphany Sunday.
Scripture: Matthew 2:1-12
The Magi who come to Jerusalem say, “We observed his star at its rising…” We observed the star of the king of the Jews at its appearing…its manifestation. Epiphany literally means that: appearance or manifestation; and the ancient celebration of Epiphany (more ancient than Christmas!) marks the first manifestation of Jesus to the Gentiles, embodied in the Magi (or kings) who come from the east. The symbols of the day and the season that follows are the star of Bethlehem and, more generally, light. The story at the center of the liturgical celebration of Epiphany is the story we’ve heard this morning of the Magi who follow the star to Jerusalem and then, upon hearing the prophecy from Micah, on to Bethlehem.
This story has been captured in art throughout the ages, with the focus on the richly dressed Magi bearing gifts after “traversing afar.” The star shines brightly in these images and the holy family is also haloed in glowing light. But in this story, as in all Matthew’s telling of the circumstances into which Jesus was born, the light is always challenged by encroaching darkness. Joseph, before having a change of heart, was planning to “put Mary away quietly.” Herod, who was known to be paranoid and murderous for the sake of keeping his own power, schemes and lies to the Magi in order to do the child Jesus harm. After the Magi heed the intuitive warning NOT to return to Herod, the King goes on a rampage and has all the children in and around Bethlehem who were 2 years of age and younger killed in hopes of extinguishing the light of the Christ child. Having been warned of this heinous plot in a dream, Joseph and Mary take their child Jesus and flee into Egypt. And while all of this may sound like the stuff of legend, the kind of story that is remote from any possible connection to the lives that we live day in and out in what is now 2015, I’d like to suggest that we have at least one significant thing in common with the Magi: we, like them, seek to follow the light but are challenged at every turn by the looming darkness.
The eastern sages thought they’d reached their destination when they got to Jerusalem, but then learned that they’d been relying on the wrong prophecy and that Bethlehem was where they needed to be. At this point, they could have rejected the notion that the king they sought would be born in a place of no real consequence, a place as humble, rural, and unpretentious as Bethlehem instead of the mighty, sophisticated, learned Jerusalem. After all, they were people of some means and power and education—why should they be bothered with peasants? Has self-importance and pride ever been an obstacle to your journey? The Magi might have played into Herod’s scheming, recognizing that he could grant them favors; I don’t suppose anyone has ever been tempted to get caught in intrigue or to do something that hurt someone else in order to gain power or prestige… The Magi might have allowed themselves to be duped by the King’s feigned desire to honor Jesus; anyone here ever been “taken in?” The sages could have discounted the warning they received in a dream and told Herod where to find the child; perhaps none of you struggle to trust your intuitive or spiritual wisdom... If the Magi had made different choices, the story would have gone very differently and we wouldn’t be here today. Because Herod would have killed the baby and that would have been that. The dark clouds of self-importance and arrogance, the shadows of power used for ill, the head-in-the-sand blindness of gullibility, or the murkiness of not trusting intuitive insights given as guidance—all of these forms of darkness pressed in and around the Magi—they were just as real and just as potent as the light that had guided them all along their journey. But the story we tell is that they were not taken in by the shadows and darkness; they remained steadfast in their focus on the star, on the light, on the one whom they sought and in whom they hoped. And in the most ancient form of humility and reverence, they knelt at the feet of this child and offered precious gifts.
Like the Magi, we are faced in each moment with a choice: do we stay focused on the Light or are we drawn into the darkness that is always lurking and waiting to pounce? Throughout the season of Advent and Christmas, a guiding image for us is light—we light candles, we string lights around trees. It’s a beautiful and powerful metaphor, but what does it really mean to stay focused on the light, to live in the light? Well, if we allow the Magi to teach us, it means resisting the forces of darkness, stubbornly following the light, and then humbly offering whatever power, gifts, or wisdom we have to Jesus Christ.
I must admit that I need to hear all of this right now. Though there are always tragedies and arguments and illness and strife and violence and the rest, the last couple of months have given my ability to stay focused on the light that shines in the darkness a spiritual workout! I imagine that we all have times when the realities of our lives make it difficult to remain hopeful or to stay engaged in the struggle for true reconciliation and peace. What I’ve found myself being drawn to over these past weeks are stories and messages that may sound simple, but that focus on the everyday things we can do. And so I am glad to have the opportunity to reflect on this ancient tale today and to be reminded that we have choices—that we can choose to live in the light and to offer gifts that make a real difference.
A foundational teaching of our faith is that every human being bears the image of God—and that Christ is met in human suffering (Mt. 25). So perhaps for us in 2015, to live in the light and offer our gifts to Christ means that we try to see, really see, the people we encounter every day—our families, our co-workers, the people on the Metro, at the cash register, on the street; that we intentionally try to remember that in their suffering—known or unknown to us—we meet Christ, and then, having seen them, that we offer our best to them. This idea is nothing new to us—or shouldn’t be. Looking for the Light of Christ in the people we encounter every day—ALL the people and especially the vulnerable and powerless—and offering our gifts to them doesn’t have to be some grand project. While it can mean resisting the temptation to participate in the evil schemes of empires or standing up to oppressors at great personal risk, it can also mean simply seeking to do the loving thing, the thoughtful thing, the generous, brave, or kind thing. The point is to offer whatever gifts you have to serve and care for and honor the Christ in others being especially mindful of the most vulnerable in the situation. At its most basic, to live in the light is to do that which we all affirm in our Baptism: to accept the power God gives us to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves. That’s what the Magi did. That’s what we’re invited to do. And the good news is that because the Magi, Joseph, Mary, and others resisted the shadows of temptation to greed, arrogance, self-protection, destructiveness, and on and on, the child Jesus grew and made the Epiphany of God ever more glorious.
Our lives and our choices to live in the light may seem small in comparison with the grand characters in the narratives of sacred scripture, but just think about what a difference it makes in your life when someone bears the light of Christ to you. Think about when someone has offered you kindness or charity, has kept a confidence, offered forgiveness, showed humility; think about when someone has been patient with you when you weren’t the easiest person to be patient with, when someone has spoken the truth to you in a way that set you free, or has offered gifts without thought of repayment. These light-infused actions make all the difference—when someone offers them to you and when you offer them to others.
One of my favorite personal experiences confirming this point occurred some years ago when I traveled to Tucson to perform a wedding. During the ceremony, my wallet was stolen (along with several others in the wedding party). I didn’t realize the theft until the next morning when I was preparing to travel back to the airport. Not being the savviest traveler, I hadn’t tucked any money or copies of my identification in my luggage. So there I was in the middle of the desert in a rental car and needing to catch a plane home without any money, credit cards, or identification. You may be able to appreciate that by the time I realized that the wallet was in fact NOT going to be found, I was feeling pretty vulnerable and uncertain whether I’d ever actually make it home.// But then the rental car guy who had the power to soak me for the cost of gas, gave me a break…and then the guys in the security checkpoint who had the power to make my life miserable treated me with gentleness and kindness…and then the woman working for the airline who had the power to keep me in Tucson for four hours before my flight left managed to get me on an earlier flight and didn’t charge me the normal fee…and then, the kicker of all kickers—one of the security guys sought me out in the terminal and tucked $5 in my bag so that I’d have money for food. At that point, I just started crying. Because I was overwhelmed with the joy of the light of Christ being made manifest to me, a weary, stressed-out, vulnerable woman in the middle of the desert with no identity. They didn’t have to do any of it—and they might not have done it for everyone—but they did it for me. And it made a real difference.
We can offer gifts to the Christ each and every day. These gifts, these choices to live in the light, to bear the light to others make a difference in the world, a real difference. And as we look to the light of Jesus Christ in this new year, I pray that we will be guided and strengthened to resist the darkness of evil, injustice, and oppression in all the small and large ways they manifest in our daily lives. And by the grace and love of Christ, we will be empowered to be God’s ongoing manifestation, God’s light-infused Epiphany in the world.
Sunday Dec 28, 2014
Sunday Dec 28, 2014
The Christmas meditations are led by Foundry's Pastor and Chief Operating Officer Al Hammer and also by Foundry's Director of Social Justice Ministries Ben Roberts.
Wednesday Dec 24, 2014
Wednesday Dec 24, 2014
“Word of Hope”: A Christmas Homily
Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli
Foundry United Methodist Church
December 24, 2014
How do you speak a word of hope into a world so bruised and skeptical and guarded? How do you speak a word of faith into a world so dulled to the realities of things unseen? How do you speak a word of peace into a world so entranced and bound by violence? How do you speak a word of love into a world so brokenhearted? These are my questions for God tonight. Words fail in the face of so much that we experience in the world—the violence and tragedy and wars that never cease and a consumptive culture eating us all alive. What word does a preacher speak that might have any chance of being heard over the din of all that—not to mention the noise of personal worries, to-do lists, football games, work stress, concerns about our children, about our finances, about our health, about our future? Human heads and hearts have always been full of worry and concern, of questions and confusion. And God’s messengers have been trying to get a word in edgewise for such a long time. Prophets ancient and new proclaim and plead, they write poetry, they sing, they do all sorts of crazy public acts to interrupt the status quo, to get someone’s attention, to communicate what matters most of all, to share God’s love and mercy, to call humankind back to some semblance of sanity; to show forth what is possible with God, to speak a word of peace and hope that will be planted and take root and grow and bring about the life that God intends.
But, even with all the crazy antics of God’s messengers and prophets, it was never enough, could never be enough. Because what the world needed then and what we need now is God—no one else will do. God knows what we need and how we struggle and suffer and get so lost. And as much as we don’t want to admit it—it’s downright un-American after all—we can’t save ourselves or anyone else on our own. We need God. And because God so loves the world, God gives us what we need. Because God so loves YOU, Jesus was born, a creature of flesh and blood and bone and breath, holding within his very human body, the very heart of almighty God. In Jesus, we see who God is and how God acts: God is humble—not born into wealth or privilege, but rather born in a borrowed barn, God favors women and men like Mary and Joseph—the little ones of no account, calls upon common folks to be witnesses to glory, chooses to be vulnerable in order to lovingly stand in solidarity with us. In Jesus we also see what it looks like to be fully and truly human, what life looks like when it is lived fully in God’s love and mercy. In Jesus we see and hear and experience beyond any doubt that God is a God of love who chooses to dwell with us in the messiness, confusion, and brokenness of human life so that we might share in the peace and purpose of God’s Kin-dom.
Why is it so difficult to hear this message of God’s love and mercy, much less believe it or be transformed by it? Among the answers may be: we are distracted, we are forgetful, we are lazy, we don’t understand, we are turned in on ourselves, we are deceived, we think we know better, and on it goes. My guess, however, is that for many people the biggest challenge to hearing and receiving God’s saving Word is the sorry state of so many things in the world. The things that Jesus came to save us from—violence, greed, selfishness, small-mindedness, hatred, fear—these are the very things that keep many people from receiving the gifts offered to us at Christmas. Many will look around and say, “How can these things be if God is a God of love?” The late, modern prophet William Sloane Coffin challenges us with these words: “God comes to earth as a child so that we can finally grow up, which means we can stop blaming God for being absent when we ourselves were not present, stop blaming God for the ills of the world as if we had been laboring to cure them, and stop making God responsible for all the thinking and doing we should be undertaking on our own…God provides minimum protection, maximum support—support to help us grow up, to stretch our minds and hearts until they are as wide as God’s universe. God doesn’t want us narrow-minded, priggish, and subservient, but joyful and loving, as free for one another as God’s love was freely poured out for us at Christmas in that babe in the manger.”[i]
Tonight we are invited to “grow up” and become more responsible, more spiritually mature, more broad-minded, joyful, loving, and freely self-giving. And if we are paying attention, we will see that, should we choose to accept, we will not be alone; we will never be alone. For God is with us. And so are other people who, like Mary, have said “yes” to God’s presence and saving activity in their lives. If we have the eyes to see and the hearts to understand, we will look around and see not only brokenness and pain, but also extraordinary beauty and courage and faith and generosity and love in the world. As people hear and open themselves to the tender voice of God’s Holy Spirit, they begin to do crazy things like humble themselves, to forgive and be forgiven, and to spend hours in prayer for the sake of those who suffer. They hear their pastor announce that a dying parishioner needs a kidney and that very day tell that pastor that they will give one of theirs. They take unhoused, struggling drug addicts into their home. They start fundraising for church missions at the bar that is their daily hangout. When people open themselves to receive God, they give up their Saturday mornings to cook for the sick and vulnerable, they give up a Friday night to stand along a luminaria-lighted street as a witness to the truth that black lives matter, they spend hours helping folks navigate the system to get ID cards and driver licenses, they give up vacation days to stand in solidarity with friends on trial, and give up hours every Sunday to teach and care for children at church. As people make room for the living Christ within their lives and hearts you see them hanging in there with a friend or family member who just can’t seem to get it together, sitting with and listening to the lonely and grieving. Those who are welcoming the presence of God more fully into their lives show mercy and kindness in a million little ways each and every day—in their work, in their homes, and everywhere. They give more of themselves and of their treasure than might be advised by fearful observers but they do it freely and joyfully for the sake of God and God’s Reign of love.
We can hurl our questions at God tonight should we so choose asking for a word sufficient for a world such as ours. And the response will come to us: “I have spoken my Word and his name is Jesus. And he is enough.” Once upon a time, that Word became flesh—lived and suffered and died and rose—that we might share life with him in God. And that Word continues to become flesh in so many wondrous ways; just look around. Hear the word of hope spoken through so many lives…and let it become flesh in you. God’s best hope for the creation is for us to hear and receive the Word—to allow God’s love in Jesus to be made manifest in our day to day lives and decisions even alongside all our worries and flaws; for us to live as people of hope, to remember that there is more to life than business as usual, more than what meets the eye; to rejoice that there is more love in the world than hatred, more good in the world than evil, that the Light will never ever be overcome by the darkness; to give thanks that we are invited to share in God’s life of love, generosity, and joy. Jesus came to BE this Word of hope, eternally spoken, eternally present, for you and for me and for the whole world. May we have ears to hear, eyes to see, hands to share, feet to follow, and hearts that beat with the love of Jesus the Christ. By God’s grace, may your life (and mine) be among the signs of hope that shine in the darkness; may God continue to speak through us.