"Why Have You Hidden Your Face from Us?"

Hey everyone!

What follows is a rough manuscript of the sermon I preached yesterday at Messiah Lutheran Church in Rotterdam, New York, a Spirit-filled church where I'm incredibly blessed to serve as pastor. It's primarily on the appointed Hebrew Bible passage for this past Sunday, Isaiah 64: 1 - 9. Furthermore, its the first of a four part sermons series I'll be preaching throughout Advent called "God with Us." Here's what I'll be covering in the coming weeks:

- Advent 1: God with Us in the Face of the Stranger

- Advent 2: God with Us in Rotterdam

- Advent 3: God with Us at Work

- Advent 4: God with Us in Family

Thanks so much, stay tuned for future installments, and I hope you find this helpful!

God's peace,

Pastor Dustin

So a couple years back in the very late hours of Christmas Eve or early hours of Christmas Day I found myself sitting on a couch three stories up above Midtown Manhattan, staring out at these stark and lonesome, but also beautifully and atypically still city streets, just sort of taking stock of my life and wrestling with God. You see, I was in the middle of my internship year Saint Peter’s Church, where the final Christmas Eve service gets out quite late and a hot breakfast is served to homeless members of the community early every Tuesday morning, even if that particular Tuesday is Christmas Day. With this in mind, instead of taking the subway back to my tiny apartment in Queens after helping out with the Christmas Eve services, I headed up to the third floor of the church where there was an amazing conference space with massive panel windows on two sides and also an amazingly comfortable couch that I always took naps on Sunday afternoons between services. My plan was to spend the night at Saint Peter’s, wake up early, help with preparing and serving breakfast, assist in a short Christmas morning liturgy and then take off for a few l expected to be melancholy days with folks up in New England. I reasoned that especially on Christmas morning, there wouldn’t be many volunteers to help serve breakfast, or perhaps that our guests would be in need of pastoral care, so staying all night at church seemed like the both logical and upright, Christian thing to do.

The truth I didn’t want to admit to myself or to God however that night was that the reason I was trying to sleep on that couch perched high over Lexington Avenue wasn’t because I was a super good intern or fulfilling my Christian duties at all… Rather, I was burdened with the constantly dull but overpowering ache of depression, sadly anticipating the anniversary of my mother’s death, drowning amidst the chaos of a failed relationship, experiencing incredibly loneliness I what I viewed as a way too big city and feeling like I really had nowhere else to go. I could have easily gotten the holiday itself off, but going back home to Connecticut would only bring up more hard feelings about my mom and doing what I considered to at least be burdening a friend’s family with my presence didn’t seem like a good option either. And worst of all, much like the speaker in today’s first lesson from Isaiah, I felt like God had entirely hidden from me. Trying to sort out where God still was in the middle of all the garbage going on in my life, especially at Christmastime, was completely proving impossible, and as you might imagine, I didn’t sleep a wink that night.

That morning, our God of surprises definitely showed up. A former member of Saint Peter’s and pastor at another nearby congregation that didn’t have an early service on Christmas Day, showed up to lead what turned out to be a huge group a volunteers, one giant extended family with no previous connection to Saint Peter’s who had simply decided to spend Christmas morning helping folks out. I honestly wasn’t need at all… there were more than enough volunteers, and frankly just by hanging out with me, our homeless guests probably did more to provide me with pastoral care than the other way around. We engaged in a bunch of great conversations, especially about our guests’ service in our armed forces. Although this number has improved in recent years, as of 2013 still around 53% of America’s homeless population are veterans (according to HUD's "Annual Homeless Assessment Report" ). I got to hang out and laugh with the family who was volunteering too, and community was fostered on Christmas morning… our God of surprises definitely showed up.

Now don’t get me wrong, God definitely showed up in the face of the stranger that Christmas morning, but it wasn’t necessarily in this big, beautiful, idyllic sort of way… it’s not like Scrooge running around giving folks money and ham dinner in a Christmas Carol! Although this isn’t typical, we had to serve an unused catered fish dinner from a giant law firm a couple stories up that morning for breakfast, which thus made for a really stinky breakfast! We often romanticize poverty in our society, especially around this time of the year, but there were definitely a few guests, although not a lot, who showed up drunk or high on who knows what. I even remember banging my elbow like really, really hard and cursing pretty loud for being in a church building. My depression wasn’t cured overnight, the messy parts of my life weren’t immediately fixed, the rest of my year in New York while incredibly rewarding still turned out pretty darn lonely, sure, but our God of surprises definitely showed up. That sense of not joy, but stubborn, resolute peacefulness, community and most importantly hope that God freely gives us when Christ shows up, especially in the face of the stranger, was definitely present.

So two closing thoughts as we enter into a new liturgical year, into the season of hopefully longing that is Advent here at our Spirit-filled church following Jesus Christ. First, especially in the midst of the holiday season when we’re constantly told again and again in holiday movies, in commercials and even by family and friends that we should be especially joyful, know that in Christ it is absolutely okay to feel whatever it is you’re feeling. Check out verse five of our reading from Isaiah, where the prophet cries out to God, “because you hid yourself we transgressed.” I mean, Isaiah is at least partially blaming God for his people’s sinful behavior!! The prophet’s really discouraged by God seemingly not showing up as in days of old! And I mean, if the guy or woman who wrote that part of Isaiah, one of the most central books of the Christian Scriptures, can take anger and disappointment to God, I think God in Christ certainly gives us permission to do the same. If you are indeed feeling joyful and jolly this holiday season, that is awesome, rock on, but if you’re not, you have absolutely no reason at all to feel guilty about it.

Second, and relatedly, as Jesus cries out to us RIGHT NOW in twenty-first century Schenectady through today’s gospel, KEEP AWAKE! Yes, while God is present in our church, in our families, in all the places we normally experience Jesus, God in Christ is especially present in the face of the stranger! Last night I had a chance to rewatch Jill’s awesome sermon from last week, and the way she proclaimed the good news about serving our neighbors was amazing. Perhaps the best part of serving our neighbors, whether they be people who are homeless, or hungry, or a family where there isn’t enough money to buy the kids Christmas presents, isn’t about what we’re doing, but rather what God is doing to us in Christ. We know in faith that Jesus especially comes to us in the face of the stranger. I took a break from the news while I was on vacation last week, with the exception of course of watching the aftermath on the grand jury ruling in Ferguson, which outside of that city were not entirely but largely peaceful. Whether or not justice was specifically done in Ferguson isn't my specialty, but I couldn’t help but think when looking at the faces of all those peaceful protestors that from one perspective they were simply proclaiming God is present in the face of our African-American sisters and brothers. Yes, Christ is present in their lives and the lives of all who are crying out against a wider societal system where the sin of racial injustice is still certainly weighing down our country.

After everything the prophet Isaiah cries out to God in today’s lesson, there’s a turn near the end, did you catch it? Check out verse eight: “Yet, O LORD, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” I’ll read it one more time, “Yet, O LORD, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” Wow, despite things certainly being far from perfect in the prophet’s situation, that stubborn, resolute peacefulness, sense of community and most importantly hope that God freely gives us when Christ shows up is definitely present in Isaiah’s words. It may not always be joyful, it might not even always feel good, but God in Christ is certainly at work in your life and life, your life and your life and indeed all our lives, carefully crafting us, forming us, shaping us, showing up in all sorts of places, especially in the face of the stranger. Indeed, God has promised us in Christ that this is the sort of God who God is, and yes, as always my sisters and brothers our God is a God who keeps promises. Amen.

Dustin serves as pastor at Messiah Lutheran Church, a Spirit-filled church following Jesus Christ in Rotterdam, New York. An evangelist, urban gardener, mountain climber, community organizer, saint and sinner, he spends most of his professional time wrestling with God and proclaiming liberation in Christ. Otherwise, Dustin likes hiking, playing frisbee, hanging out with his fiancée Jessie, his amazing pup Willy Bear and pretending to know how to sing.

Public Theologians Advocate on Behalf of PA General Assistance

Wow, I'm live-blogging from the start of Lutheran Day at the Capitol and it's really exciting to see so many Lutherans from throughout Pennsylvania living out their baptismal call to do justice!  In addition to working on issues combating a pay-day lending bill, protecting Pennsylvanians from a proposed food-stamp asset test and strengthening the Homeowners Emergency Mortgage Assistance Program, another major issue we're working on today protection PA's General Assistance Program.

The General Assistance program supports the most vulnerable Pennsylvanians who have no other income. It is truly a program of last resort that is in danger of being cut from this year's PA state budget. The only people who can receive GA funds are:

- Disabled or sick adults without children,
- Domestic violence survivors, many of whom have just fled their abusers,
- Adults caring for someone who is sick or disabled, or for an unrelated child,
- Adults participating in alcohol and other drug treatment programs, and
- Children living with an unrelated adult.

We're trying something new with this particularly advocacy issue by recording advocacy videos, putting them up on YouTube,  and tweeting them to @GovernorCorbett and other legislators... please see some of our best ones below.  If you're interested in helping out, check out www.pacaresforall.org for more information, record a video, posted it to YouTube (LAMPa can help with that if needed) and tweet it to @GovernorCorbett.  Be sure to use the #KeepPAGA hashtag and let LAMPa know about your video by tweeting us @LAMPaADVOCACY.  Thanks so much friends!













If you're here today at Lutheran Day at the Capitol, please see Dustin to record a video before you go home!

God's peace,
Dustin

Dustin is a Masters of Divinity candidate in his second year of study at the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia. While seeking ordination in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, his focus is on the intersection between worship, service and justice building in de-centralized faith communities unencumbered by a traditional church building. In his free time, Dustin really likes playing frisbee, hiking and pretending to know how to sing.

A Psalm for Her City

Had to write my own psalm for a First Testament course this semester and the following is what I came up with... it's based on a conversation I had with a woman who used to call the Occupy Philly encampment her home.

Creator, nurturing mother;
     Your love and beauty fill all the earth.

Nurturing mother;

     You come to even the forbidden places,

     the merciless grid of the city street.

Yet the demons of poverty, and hunger and open-air death dealing

     press in on me.

The hellhounds of addiction, and depression and hopelessness

     seek to overtake me.

How could I remain without your guiding hand?

     What would I do without your comforting embrace?

May you vanquish my enemies O Lord,

     not with the sting of your sword,

     but with the wild shoots of your garden

     breaking forth through blood stained concrete.

I know your attentive ear

     will hear the groans of your child

     stripped of her humanity.

I am blameless Lord.

     I shout your name from atop tenements.

     I shout within burned out rowhouses.

     I shout both night and day.

     I shout you are my strength, my healer, and my champion.

Prophetic Witness @ OccupyPhilly

As written in an upcoming edition of LTSP's The Seminarian:

Over the last few weeks I had the pleasure of visiting the OccupyPhilly encampment at Dilworth Plaza three times.  Each visit was a uniquely amazing experience.  It was great to talk with folks and feel a strong sense of community during my first visit, but I was also disappointed that people of faith weren’t visibly present at all.  My second time down I attended a meeting of the then newly formed Interfaith Working Group.  Since that meeting, I’ve seen the Interfaith Working Group do some fantastic ministry.  They’ve organized weekly speakers, made appeals for food donations and cared for the many homeless folks living at Occupy.  The group provided a calming presence when police closed the encampment last week and they’ve even worked with the Rev. Jesse Jackson to reach out to the city’s African-American church community.

I purposely made my third visit to OccupyPhilly during one of their public feeding times.  At the encampment’s height they was feeding 900 folks each day of the week and 2100 folks on the weekend free of charge.  Meals were cooked at a local Friends Center kitchen and carted over to the encampment, providing a very public witness to our city’s hunger crisis right in front of City Hall.  Before leaving that evening I briefly spoke with a man who said he wanted to start going to church because the Friends Center was so helpful.

The city government evicted occupiers from Dilworth Plaza last week to make way for a construction project without granting a new overnight permit for another location.  Since then OccupyPhilly’s Interfaith Working Group has worked hard to help homeless folks find another long-term residence.  While I pray the movement stays alive and even grows in the coming months, Occupy has already provided us with an important model for being church in the 21^st century.  Living amidst such social and economic injustice, the church must bear very public, prophetic witness to the many sins of our contemporary society.  Like Occupy, the church must publicly witness in partnership with our interfaith sisters and brother in manner centered on conversation rather than violence.

God's peace,

Dustin

After Dilworth Plaza: Being Forced to Exist Alone

One of the best aspects of OccupyPhilly's former encampment at Dilworth Plaza was that it provided a semi-permanent community for homeless folks in Philadelphia to live in a central location with easy access to food and other important resources.  Since the city evicted the occupiers from Dilworth Plaza last week, the rare sense of community for the city's homeless has been destroyed.  Immediately after the eviction, some homeless occupiers attempted to set-up another encampment in North Philadelphia under a I-95 underpass, but they were recently asked to leave as well.  Paul Klemmer, one of the homeless occupiers, recently wrote an open letter to Mayor Nutter about the situation.  Check out the following heartbreaking excerpt:

Philadelphia has about 4,000 homeless people and 40,000 empty dwelling units, but, apparently, unless the wealthy can profit by our occupying these dwellings, they would rather see us alone, with our possessions if not stolen by regular criminals, "confiscated" by police, since we have no place to store anything we can't carry and are not allowed to congregate to watch one another's belongings.

You can check out more of Paul Klemmer's letter here.  The church needs to be a prophetic witness and support individuals like Paul who want to set up fully functioning communities where homeless folks can live, be good neighbors and even minister to each other without being victimized by our wider society.  As Paul mentions later on his letter, these encampments or facilities could be located in those forgotten, abandoned places in the city like foreclosed homes.  OccupyPhilly's Interfaith Working group has continued working on helping the homeless of our city find new, fully functioning communities to live instead of simply shelters.  The group can certainly provide a strong model for the rest of us.

God's peace,
Dustin

UPDATE 12:47 PM: Here's a great video segment on this second eviction from Fox29 News:

Second Occupy Camp Evicted In Philly: MyFoxPHILLY.com

A Lutheran Seminarian @ OccupyPhilly

This past Friday I took the commuter rail down to City Hall, making my first visit to OccupyPhilly.  On my way there I generally thought I supported what was going on, but my main purpose was to get some postcards signed...  Philadelphia is one of the hungriest large cities in America... 1 in 4 folks face food insecurity here.  Despite such an alarming statistic the city of Philadelphia also doesn't currently have an official hunger plan.  City Soup recently launched a campaign to change all that.  Over the coming weeks, members of faith communities throughout the city will sign postcards to advocate for the development of a hunger plan.  And they're going to sign a whole lot of postcards... 30,000 of them, to be exact.  As part of my field assignment with Lutheran Advocacy Ministries of PA, I was asked to support the campaign by getting the Occupy folks to sign as well.

Upon exiting Suburban Station I quickly realized Occupy was something I had never before experienced.  I've been to protests before, marching against the Iraq War in NYC and Washington, but this was completely different.  It wasn't a protest at all really, but rather a fully functioning community organized around fighting economic injustice.  There was strong infrastructure in place... a welcome tent, a medical tent, a media tent, a legal tent and food tent were only a few of the many ways the community supported it's members.  Despite a week-long occupation, the park was amazingly clean.. cleaner than many parks I've visited in Philly.  Finally, there were people not only talking, but really listening to each other all around me.

Most impressively, the folks over at OccupyPhilly were doing exactly what the city hasn't succeeded in doing: feeding hungry people.  For days police have been directing people who are homeless to City Hall in the hope of overwhelming the occupiers.  Instead of being overwhelmed, the community is simply feeding hungry people... a whole lot of hungry people.  In fact, over 1000 people are being served each meal.  That's right... Occupy has become a huge feeding operation right in front of City Hall.  Right after I learned about the feeding operation over a hundred students came marching down (I think) Market St. from Temple University... they had staged a walkout in support of the protest.  The community grew to embrace the Temple students, and continues to grow each day.

The sad part though was that people of faith were almost nowhere to be seen at OccupyPhilly, at least in an official capacity.  There was a Society of Friends tent and a Unitarian/ Universalist tent, but that was about it.  Despite Christ's work feeding the hungry, supporting the poor and serving the marginalized, Christians weren't really around.  Even if the church can't support the Occupy movement itself, it surely can minister to the community there.  I heard from one of the folks at the Society of Friends tent that pastoral care needs were overwhelming and that help was needed.  I heard from community leaders how desperately more food is needed as well.

OccupyPhilly was a truly amazing experience, an experience of the Spirit working in a community organized around fighting economic injustice.  The people there (whether they knew it or not) were living out a vocation to feed hungry people and give a powerful voice to those who have never had one before.

Only Offering A Prayer

Here's the manuscript from a temple talk I gave last Sunday to my home congregation of Emanuel Lutheran in Manchester, CT:

When Pastor Cady asked me to speak here today about my experiences so far at the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, I knew I wanted to be brief, but wow… I also knew that there is a lot I could talk about. My first semester at LTSP has been an amazing opportunity to grow, learn and discern God’s call. The academics have been rigorous, the community has been amazingly supportive, and the worship life there has been greatly nurturing. I’d go into how I’ve benefited from all those things in great detail (and I’d be happy to do so if you want to chat more after worship), but really, and in the interest of brevity; one quick story sums it all up.

Right across the street from the seminary there’s a Wawa, a typical convenience store that I often head over to during a late study night or the occasional evening when dinner isn’t very good at the refectory. There’s one man I’ve seen a few times there in particular, sitting on a curb in front of the store, asking for spare change. For my first couple months at LTSP, I’d occasionally give him a quarter if I had one, but more often than not I’d awkwardly mumble that I had nothing to give. A few weeks ago on my way into Wawa, I was asked again by this man to spare some change. Almost automatically I told him I could offer no money, but I could offer to pray for him.

Since that day I’ve had a couple brief conversations with him, which have led me to consider poverty and homelessness from a deeper theological perspective than ever before. Saying a prayer for someone in a convenience store parking lot isn’t all that amazing… it should be a common occurrence, its something we should all be able to do as Christians and its something that we’re called to do. That said, only after spending time at LTSP was I empowered to get up the courage and speak with that man on a deeper level than apologizing for not having any change… recognizing Christ in “the other.” While this simple act wasn’t amazing, the community at LTSP and my education there is proving to be, and I greatly look forward to continue growing and exploring my call to public ministry while there. Thanks for all of your continued support, and God bless.