On the Road

We can often feel like God is beyond our comprehension and reach – but each and every time we gather together for this meal of bread and wine, God is revealed to us. This meal of body and blood, broken open and poured out for us, restores us all to wholeness by connecting us with That which is forever whole and complete.

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Preached on the Third Sunday of Easter. Edited.

Before I begin my sermon today I want to say some words in solidarity with my LGBTQ family in the United Methodist Church. This past week, the Judicial Council of that church ruled that the election of Bishop Karen Oliveto, who was the first openly lesbian bishop in that denomination, violated church law. Even though she was elected and called faithfully by the people she served, her sexual orientation and marriage to a woman deemed her “unfit” to be a bishop – because the UMC declares that homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching. That same council also affirmed in separate rulings that two different conferences of the UMC must abide by church law and inquire about the sexuality of candidates for ministry.

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One Month Later

It’s been about a month since I packed up my life into a suitcase (well, the essentials, anyway) and moved away from home.

Boston is almost a new city for me. I dated someone who lived in the area a few years ago, so I did occasionally come to Boston to see him, but I never spent more than about an hour or so in the city before setting off to visit with him in New Hampshire.

Now that I’m here for a year, much of my recent life- aside from going to work and participating in training sessions-  has been centered around settling into my new home.

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Shoes for the Journey

An analogy I’ve often used to talk about my religious seeking is that faith is kind of like a good pair of shoes- you have to find a pair that fits you. For some folks that might not have been raised with religion, it may take some time to find a right pair, or they may never even settle on just one. Others may find that they can fit into their parents’ shoes just fine and wear those, and others may find that they just prefer to go barefoot, and that’s okay, too.

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Silence

I have a love-hate relationship with silence.

I enjoy the peace that comes with it, the stillness that settles into my bones when I sit quietly somewhere. I love the calm of early morning, broken momentarily by a passing car, but only for a moment. I am most productive when I go to the library on campus and sit in the “quiet zone”, which is peaceful until students conduct full-on conversations in whispers and I contemplate shushing them (further ruining the silence).

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