Life in Motion, Leaving to Return, A Sermon by Rev. Joe Bumbulis

"Life in Motion, Leaving to Return" A Sermon by Rev. Joe Bumbulis The First Baptist Church of Austin Sunday, October 23, 2016 Your chair is killing you.  You’ve likely heard it a million times. All the hours we spend sitting at work, at home, in our cars, watching TV are adding up: and hastening us to our deaths. According to some studies, people with sitting jobs have twice the rate of cardiovascular disease as people with standing jobs.   Our bodies, our beings are designed to be in motion.  If, somehow, you’ve missed the cultural moment, all this talk about “sitting killing us” has transformed workplaces with such wonders as yoga balls as chairs, stand up desks, and the infamous treadmill desk, (so that way the already super-productive people at work can now own all their tasks and then some Plus walk five to ten miles a day while at work…Charlotte). We humans are made to move. To be alive and flourishing and whole; MEANS movement.  Life is motion and motion is life.  The sacred stories we as Christ followers read in the Bible are replete with  people finding not only Life, but God’s very self in movement. Abraham’s story begins by leaving Ur. Motion.  Moses and the newly rescued slave people spend 40 years in the desert, walking the slavery out of their bones and memories in order to be God’s blessing people in a new land. Motion. Faced with the stagnation and injustice of a corrupt kingdom, the Israelites were lead into EXILE…forced from their land. Motion.  Jesus lead his disciples to cross border and boundaries. Motion. And, the church in Acts was empowered by the Spirit to go out into all of the world. Motion. ___ While today’s lectionary Gospel reading isn’t necessarily about movement, (or even what I’ll be preaching about today), I wanted to keep it because the because the tax collector’s prayer brings to mind one of my favorite ways of praying called: “the Jesus prayer.” “The Jesus prayer,” for those unfamiliar with it, is a very short prayer to be memorized and said over and over again in one’s mind. It’s a prayer of repetition that’s meant to center and remind the one of God’s presence and mercy.  It goes like this: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God; have mercy on me, a sinner.” In seminary, when I began practicing this prayer with my small group, the challenge was to sit and repeat in my mind this short prayer…which I found nearly impossible except when I was driving.  But one day, because I was praying, “Lord Jesus Christ, Song of God, have mercy on me, a sinner” over and over in my mind at random times, the words came to me while I was running.  It was like a magical moment when my love for moving and using my body became a spiritual discipline. Not only did I fall in love with the power of repetition to focus my entire self on God; but I began to reclaim the goodness of my being as a "bodied being" not just a spiritual being.  ___ So when this past summer, at the encouragement of our former interim pastor Steve Jolly, I was hurled into the opportunity to take a sabbatical, and with short notice and little time to plan, I wasn't sure what I needed; but as someone drawn to spirituality as motion,   I was drawn to pilgrimage. To travel with intention or as famous theologian Richard Niebuhr writes: Pilgrims are poets who create by taking journeys  In our modern context of travel and vacations, pilgrimage has lost much of its appeal or we’ve lost awareness that it exists as a spiritual discipline.  And while some of my time away was vacation, much of it was pilgrimage…a journey of risk, renewal, and relationship.  As printed in the worship bulletin, Douglas Vestal reflects on pilgrimage… Several sages over the centuries have written that the real point of traveling is not to arrive but to return home. As promised a few weeks back by our new pastor Griff Martin mentioned that you would be hearing all about my sabbatical when I preached. Before I begin, let me say that in many ways I’m still in process with it…and for all the counselors in the room you’ll be happy to know that as part of my sabbatical, I took the last week to find a therapist to help me with the process. Some things are still too personal to share; but otherwise, I’d here are a few reflections I’ve come home with. My first reflection:  As someone who has spent the last 8 years dedicating my life and time to the question of  “how do you nurture faith and community in the church’s youth;”  more than ever I’m convinced that FAITH is not some moment of religious acceptance nor is it being socialized into good church members. Faith is a way of living in the world, a way of seeing reality and seeking for God’s new life within it. My first week in Europe was spent with Charlotte as vacation and rest in Barcelona. I began to feel the urgings toward travel as something deeper when we visited Montserrat one early morning.  Montserrat is a monastery built into the side of a mountain just outside Barcelona. Our morning began with a hike along a prayer stations guiding us through the life of Christ using both icons and sculptures. The stations of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection ended at the chapel of the Black Madonna where in a time of silent reflection I was moved to light candles in prayer for some friends of mine who are hurting deeply.  The space became thin as it was palatable with God’s presence. We began our ascend back up the mountain and made it just in time to hear the boys’ choir which has been in operation for over 700 years at Montserrat.  I remember having a profound moment of worship, watching a woman bow her head before a crucifix statue before slowly walking forward to kiss Jesus’ crucified feet.  Finally after purchasing a whole wheel or two of Spanish cheese for almost nothing at a small farmers market, we rode the cable car back down the mountain. As Charlotte and I were resting our weary feet waiting on the train to take us back to Barcelona, we listened quietly to a couple resting on the platform right next to us, reflect on their experience.  It was obvious that one of them was in charge of planning that day’s activity and the other seem completely disengaged and disappointed. You could tell the one who had planned the day felt deflated, while the other offered no real suggestion of that they wanted to do…just what they didn’t want. Later, when Charlotte and I were talking about the conversation that we “eavesdropped” which to be fair, might not be okay in itself, I remembered something I had read in preparation for our pilgrimage:  It said,  Traveling without the ability to see, is a useless endeavor. It is not about the sites, but about the sighting, the way we see. Faith is about learning to see every moment full of God’s possibility. Every moment being pregnant with expectation of God’s new life. Faith is about seeing the world as full of openness for the divine to break in…even in the face of our pain…even in the face of our boredom. My second reflection: At the center of my pilgrimage to Europe, the reason I wanted to travel was to visit Taize, a monastic community in the middle of no-where France (which by the way, is nothing like the middle of no-where Texas….it’s lot less Texas Chainsaw and a lot more Chocolat.)  Taize is a monastic community that draws thousands upon thousands of young people every year for prayer and community. Having worshipped in 2013 with some of the brothers from Taize at Pine Ridge, South Dakota overlooking the beautiful Badlands and then helping to host them here at First Austin in 2014, I was excited to go worship with my monk friends at their home: Taize.  What I wasn’t expecting was how much I would struggle to connect with worship. Taize worship had been a very powerful experience for me in the past, and I thought for sure getting to pray 3 times a day for 7 days would be even more powerful; yet from the start I had a difficult time connecting to it. There are reasons I think I found the worship difficult to connect with, But in reflection, I see that my disconnection with worship, lead me to a deeper connection with another part, maybe the most important part of Taize: the community. You see, here in the states, Taize is often equated with style of worship or singing; but in Europe, Taize is synonymous with community.  For  several young Europeans, Taize is their church community. Nearly every young person I spoke with told me that they come to Taize every year, but rarely if ever go to church. Many told me that church is for old people.  I recently came across a TED talk titled, “What makes a good life? Lessons from the longest study on happiness.” Maybe you’ve seen it.  In it, Robert Waldinger talks about a recent survey among Millennials…my generation…of what we think makes us happy, or what makes life worth living. 80% said wealth; 50% said fame. But in this 75 year study, the longest study of adult lives that has ever been done, where 724 men’s lives were tracked (and now their children’s lives are being tracked); some who would become Harvard graduates and go on to fight in WWII; and others who grew up in some of Boston’s poorest neighborhoods; a few things stood out. One, is that many of the inner city Boston men would ask every year when the researchers called, “Why do you want to keep studying me, my life just isn't that interesting.” The Harvard grads never asked that question. (i just thought that was funny). But most importantly, the key insight from this study in trying to learn what makes people happy or gives them a fulfilling life is that it doesn’t come from wealth, or fame, or even working hard…but rather:  Good relationships keep us happier and healthier. Period.  We as human being are made for relationships. NO matter our age, no matter our place in life…we need one another. So the greater epidemic isn’t sitting that is killing us, but loneliness.  The type of loneliness that can happen in a crowd or marriage or job.  A third reflection: After my week at Taize, I left and spent 3 nights in Paris and then 2 in London. In Paris, I rejoiced to go alone to the Louvre and the Orsay. To get some time being confronted by some of the world’s most renowned artists while reflecting on my time thus far. While I loved my time in Paris, by the time I arrived in London, I was done with paintings and sculptures. So, I decided to see a play. By chance, I got a day of ticket, front row for $40 dollars to see Wicked at the Apollo theater.  And I have to confess, I cried, like a big cry during “Defying Gravity.” Like, the guys sitting next to me were confused by the guy sitting alone, weeping. If you know Wicked, which I’ve learned I’m pretty late to the game and just about everyone has seen it, then you know the power of Elphaba taking ownership of her life in that moment, of her swearing off her dreams that were never really real in the first place and choosing a new way: or in the words of Elphaba: Something has changed within me Something is not the same I'm through with playing by The rules of someone else's game Too late for second-guessing Too late to go back to sleep It's time to trust my instincts Close my eyes And leap It's time to try defying gravity I think I'll try defying gravity And you can't pull me down In an interview with Oprah, Father Richard Rohr explains that many people live by listening to their false selves, or their egos which hate change. We aren’t good at letting go, but we are good at holding on…holding on to resentment, past hurts, or negative feelings.  As Rohr explains, many Americans live their whole lives out of an identity built around victimhood. In other words, we often use our wounds and hurts as ways of getting sympathy or getting out of serving the world.  The power of Wicked in the story of Elphaba is, I believe, one of the most powerful spiritual and faithful acts of faith we can come to in following Jesus- agency…to own our actions in the world and not be defined by the wrongs we incurred or the pain we carry. Instead letting our lives be written by the rules of someone else’s game, a game of being a victim or making victims; we can be free. But, Giving up on being the victim to our circumstances or life or even bad choices is hard, difficult work, yet it’s the best thing you can do.  ____ To recap, a few of my reflections:  1               Life is motion. Is it any wonder that the major metaphors in the Bible for the Holy Spirit are dynamic, energetic, and moving. God is life, and life is motion…which means in every moment we are called to change. 2) Faith is learning to see the world as God sees it: full of possibility in every moment, whether that moment is full of pain or in our boredom . 3) We are made to be in relationship. Loneliness kills. 4) We must choose to own our actions in the world and instead of having victim-identities; we must have wounded healer identity’s.  So what does all this mean for the church, for you and me? Our church is in a new time, marked by growth. In Richard Rohr's newest book on the Trinity, the Divine Dance, he remarks that the key to growth is vulnerability. To live undefended, in constant openness to others invites pain and hurt.  If I could boil down all my reflections into a word: it would be vulnerability. This last Tuesday, David Brooks wrote in the NYTimes a piece called the “Power of the Dinner Table.” Brooks writes about a couple in Washington DC who’s teenage son had a friend who was hungry. So they invited him over. And that friend had a friend, so they invited him over.   On any random Thursday night in Kathy Fletcher and David Simpson’s home, you might find 15 to 20 teenagers crammed around their table and later some will crash in the basement or a in one of the few small bedrooms upstairs.  The kids who show up to David and Kathy’s have endured the ordeals of modern poverty: homelessness, hunger, abuse, sexual assault. Almost all have seen death firsthand — to a sibling, friend or parent. But kids, hungry for food, but so much more, gather around a table to share a meal. Phones are banned in that holy moment.  This couple is making a difference in the face of modern poverty. As Brooks writes: “Poverty up close is so much more intricate and unpredictable than the picture of poverty you get from the grand national debates. The kids can project total self-confidence one minute and then slide into utter lostness the next.” In the same piece, a youth activist, when asked what programs turn kids life around, he answers, I haven’t seen one program change a kids life; what changes people is relationships. Somebody willing to walk through the shadow of the valley of adolescence with them.” The article ends this way: Sometimes Kathy and David are asked how they ended up with so many kids flowing through their house. They look at how many kids are out there, and respond, “How is it possible you don’t?” Life is motion; AND God’s call to the table is full of commotion, a turning upside of our lives in the redemption of our lives in vulnerable relationships… How is it possible we don’t want that church?