Tag: Matthew

#Brexit1776
Well-meaning, patriotic, happy American friends share this meme a lot these days. There are indeed a couple of things that the American Declaration of Independence and the British vote to leave the European Union have in common:

1. People want to rid themselves of perceived oppression.
In 1776 the thirteen colonies made their case against King George: “He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us. He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.”
In 2016 the British electorate did not really know why they did not want to be part of the European Union anymore. As a matter of fact it wasn’t until after the vote that Brits started googling “What Is The EU?”.

2. People are concerned about the status of migrants
In 1776 the biggest concern for America was and ought to be: How can we get the most people here and make them citizens as quickly and as smoothly as possible? The king of England is hurting us by putting up a fence around our borders: “He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.”
In 2016 the overall British sentiment was: “We don’t want no refugees!”

If you have to parallel the Brexit of 2016 to an event in American history, I propose 1620. The pilgrims were one group of migrants who formed what later became the United Church of Christ. They declared their #Brexit1620 by leaving Britain and finding a new home in America.
In 2017 the United Church of Christ declared itself an Immigrant Welcoming Church. At #UCCGS the pilgrims’ sons and daughters remember what it means to be a refugee.
July 4th is not a Brexit but opening your welcoming arms to those oppressed by ruthless empires: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

Last year was my 20th High School reunion in Germany. I did not go. But a friend of mine did. We talked about it a few months later. He was astonished that most people in our graduating class seemed to still be able to call each other without using a different area code. We agreed that probably the small sample of those who actually attended the reunion was not representative of our entire class. Of course, local people come to a local gathering. Our classmates who live in the US, in South Africa, and Australia, did not show up. No surprise there. So overall I guess my graduating class is split down the middle. There are really two kinds of people:
1. dwellers, who stay local and make themselves at home where they grew up and
2. vagabonds, who move regularly, explore the world, and reinvent themselves constantly.

I am a vagabond. I left my hometown right after high school, never to return. That is the norm in the ministry. Divinity schools are usually not available where you grow up and you cannot effectively minister to people who knew you as a child. But then again, a lot of professions ship people all over the world. The military rotates you from one assignment to the next every three years, the oil and gas industry makes people follow the boom and bust cycle from one place to the next. Refugees are running for sheer survival. We vagabonds have a great example in Jesus who is famous for saying: “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Matthew 8:20).

Then there are dwellers like my classmates who stay local. I envy them. They can rely on friendships they have established for decades. They can even tap into the vast network that their parents and grandparents before them created in the community. Everybody knows where they belong in the story of the town. They have their own spot carved out in their particular place. They belong. The Psalmist is famous for feeling at home like that – at home with God: “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long” (Psalm 23:6b).

The church needs to be a place for both dwellers and vagabonds. It does not belong to those who have been there for a long time. The church needs to stretch the comfort zone of dwellers. On the flip side the church cannot let vagabonds pass by without offering nourishment along the way. It has to create an oasis for vagabonds. The body of Christ needs to provide opportunities for dwellers to leave their comfort zone and for vagabonds it needs to provide opportunities to learn stability.

I practiced dwelling recently by getting a landline phone. Since I moved to the US I have only had a cell phone and kept the number wherever I went. Now there is an actual wire buried in the ground to keep me connected. I am practicing being in one place. On the flip-side I have seen dweller friends volunteer in places they had never dreamed of. When you support people that are totally unlike you, you grow in totally new dimensions. Even if you stay local you can still expand your horizon. Both takes practice: Learning to stay put and learning to get out there. Practice what you are not naturally good at! It is worth it!

There used to be a strict rule at our house in the mornings: “Don’t talk about anything important before I had my first cup of coffee.” I would misunderstand you. I would not be able to pay attention. Short: I would not be at my best. So it was safest for myself and everybody else to avoid human interaction before the beast was tamed by caffeine. So whenever this rule was broken that could result in a rough start for everybody involved. Coffee ruled my life.

Matthew 6:21 reminds me, “for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” That is a hard cup to swallow. Because it means that in effect I have made coffee the king over my morning if not over the whole day. Because in the afternoon I would need another dose. I treasured coffee to a level that I said I could not make it through the day without it. But coffee and I, we are not unique: Just today I had a lunch conversation where several people outed themselves as tea addicts. They could not even fathom giving up their ice tea that comes with every meal. I have known soda fanatics and from anecdotal evidence I think Diet Coke die-hards are the most fanatic.

So last Saturday something strange happened: I woke up early to go exercise. Now, that is not strange, that is normal for me. But what struck me was what I did not do: After the workout I did not rush to get myself a coffee. Instead I let the day go on – without the tiniest dose of caffeine. Maybe coffee does not rule my life? Maybe I can do it without the rush? Then came Sunday morning with a splitting headache and a fatigue that would last all day. Withdrawal was real and carried into Monday with general grogginess and muscle stiffness.

Today is Tuesday, day three without any caffeine, and I am okay. I am reasonably awake and attentive. It still feels somewhat funny but I am managing. In case you were wondering why I invite you so deeply into my intimate habits: That is what Lent is all about. Lent is an opportunity to give yourself a reality check of where your priorities are, what you can do without. “What are you giving up for Lent?” is not a cute question on the side. It has to puncture your very heart. It must reveal where your treasure truly is. Maybe the better way to pose the question is:
What is one thing I cannot live without?
What is one thing I wish I did not do?
Even though I started before Ash Wednesday I intend to stay away from caffeine all the way through Easter.
Can you imagine Jesus stood up on Easter morning from the grave without a single cup of coffee?