Betrayal

2015-08-02 19.35.46

Photo Credit: Amy Persons Parkes, August Clouds in Georgia

A Reflection for Maundy Thursday
John 13: 1-35

On this night, we hear again the story of Jesus’ betrayal.  We hear again the very ordinary story of one friend coming to the end of a friendship to the great, the grave disappointment of another.

We hear the often-told story of how a subordinate is finally fed up with the grand ideas and the vision and the direction of a superior, so fed up that he copies all the client’s files, backs-up business plans, cleans out his desk and sets up shop in a new business a few streets over.

On this night, we hear the story of Jesus’s betrayal; and we can almost see ourselves as one of the ignorant, innocent dinner guests who watch the slow motion disaster of intimate secrets of spouses shouted across the table at one another. We are left with our jaws hitting the tablecloth, as accusations are launched and other members of the dinner party indicted, when the affair and its participants, are now named, exposed among us.

On this night, we watch as the dipped piece of bread is discreetly passed, hand to hand from Jesus down to Judas; and we recall the last time words were whispered behind palms of hands “See, her over there.  She’s the one.  Yes, all $10,000 came from the estate that she wrongly inherited.”

We have seen this story of betrayal played out in the minutia of our everyday lives, when promises made are not kept, when money meant for savings was spent on a discretionary desire, when people we have trusted to think clearly and rationally have been blindsided by denial and rationalized what was, and is, irrational.

Betrayal is an everyday occurrence; and in the way only Jesus is able to do, Jesus makes the moment of betrayal a holy moment.

Jesus took bread and renamed it his body.  Jesus poured out wine and called it his blood.  Jesus was immersed beneath the waters of the river Jordan; and in those moments, he died to human desires and rose up to his divine calling.

And, now, when one of his own, one who used to keep the purse and count out the benevolent funds to be used for emergency food for the homeless or a trolley pass for the wayfarer, when this one who used to help Jesus meet the needs of the poor and offer healing to the sick, when this one intends to walk out on him, to report him to the authorities, Jesus hallows the moment and washes his enemy’s feet along with everyone else.

Let’s be clear. Judas may be the one with the most malicious intent; but Judas is not the only one who will walk away.

Judas is not the only one who will desert Jesus.

The other disciples will also desert Jesus — some in fear, some convinced that they need safety.

Some will desert Jesus because they are beginning to doubt that this path of nonviolence is really worth it. They will prefer, in the midst of the fraying fabric of friendship, a military leader not a Messiah.

Betrayal.

All of the disciples know betrayal.  Jesus knows betrayal.

We know betrayal.

We know betrayal because we have been betrayed by friends who took advantage of gifts, by family members who curried favor with other loved ones by telling the story of what happened in less than favorable terms for us.  We know betrayal because we have been betrayed by bosses who demanded every bit of energy we could muster and took all the credit for our work.  We have been betrayed by children and husbands and wives when they took the love and faithfulness and loyalty we offered and treated them like the doormat at the back stoop.

We know betrayal because we have betrayed.  We have told confidences from friends and co-workers that we promised we would never reveal — but the moment came in a conversation, and we’re not exactly sure why or what happened; but the story just slipped out. And, no matter how many days we have fretted over those loose lips, nothing –  nothing – can take it back.

We know betrayal because we have betrayed. We have bent the rules of the office.  We have hugged someone too closely, texted someone too frequently.  We know betrayal because we have ignored the needs of committed and covenant relationship too many times.

We have betrayed our children with our idle and empty and manipulative threats. We have betrayed ourselves, our values and our principles for the sake of agreement, for the sake of winning an argument, because it was the path of least resistance. We have betrayed ourselves, our values and our principles for more money, for a better job, for a nicer house, and in the hopes that someone would like us.

But the beauty of this moment of betrayal, that we remember tonight, is that Jesus takes this everyday occurrence of betrayal and makes it a holy moment.

And, he asks us to do the same.

Betrayed by Judas (for the betrayal committed in his heart before the Last Supper will find its expression in later hours), Jesus kneels and washes his feet.  One more act of love.  One more act of service.  One more attempt to let forgiveness outlast and overcome revenge.

Knowing Judas will not deviate from the script that had begun in his heart, Jesus does not cajole him, threaten him, beg him, condemn him, or curse him.  He washes his feet and lets him go.

In this same freedom, Jesus encounters us – betrayed and betraying — and he loves us, serves us, woos us.  But, in kind, we are gifted with freedom to respond, to receive and walk into newness of life.

Jesus takes the everyday occurrence of betrayal and makes it a holy moment.

And, Jesus, bids us, his followers, to do the same.  “Love your enemies. Do not repay evil for evil, but repay evil with good.  They will know you are my disciples if you love one another.  Wash one another’s feet, even as I have washed yours.”

Thanks be to God who has loved us beyond our lovable-ness and sees the possibilities within us that we have tarnished within ourselves.

May we be transformed by such a love.

Amy Persons Parkes © 2016

Invite Wonder

2014-10-11 09.04.07

Photo Credit: Amy Persons Parkes

In an effort to be intentional about celebrating Advent and Christmas more fully, as outlined by Taylor Burton-Edwards, Director of Worship Resources, Discipleship Ministries (United Methodist Church), in the United Methodist Worship blog post Three Ways to Celebrate Advent and Christmas Season Fully in 2015/16 , my congregation will begin to observe Advent Sunday, November 15. The “new” fourth Sunday of Advent will be December 6.  We are following the lectionary for these Sundays, as they already exist. Using the Gospel Lessons, Gayle (the Chairperson of our Worship Committee) selected key phrases from different translations of the Bible and paired the phrases with two words that will be used for silent meditation at the beginning of worship. Using these phrases and two-word meditations as inspiration, I am writing Advent Wreath Lighting Liturgies for our Advent observance.  If you would like to use them in worship, please feel free; however, I do ask that you acknowledge Gayle Youmans and Amy Persons Parkes as the authors of the material.

December 6, 2015 (Advent 4)
Luke 3:1-6, key verse v. 6 (CEB):  “And all humankind will see God’s salvation.”
Two-word meditation:  Invite Wonder

Leader:  With wonder and humility, we look to the heavens, mindful of our small place in the vast universe you have created, O God.  We marvel at your attention to the details of our lives, amidst the expansive nature of existence.

In a universe containing some 70 billion trillion stars, you see our pain and longing. In a world encompassing the astounding paradox of creatures like the 400,000 pound blue whale and the 1/2 inch krill upon which it feeds, we are confounded by the interconnectedness of creatures great and small. How miraculous that the largest animal which has ever lived, only does so because one of the smallest creatures exists and multiplies and migrates day in and day out. With amazement, we ponder the infinite mystery of our own bodies whose cells contain enough strands of DNA, that laid end to end would make over 70 roundtrips from the earth to the sun.

O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!

On this fourth Sunday of Advent, we light these candles, at last, holding only to the promise of your coming. Gazing toward the heavens, we are stunned by your greatness. Turning inward, we are mystified by the intricacies of these bodies you have created. Our hearts and minds fall short in contemplating the ways in which your salvation will be made known to all humankind.

People: We wait actively for your coming, Lord.

Leader: We practice discernment until we see and know the Truth.

People: We allow the discomfort that accompanies the birth of a new heaven, a new earth, the fullness of the Kingdom of God among us.

Leader: We invite wonder to soothe our longing and to nurture the embers of hope lying dormant yet

alive within us.

People: For you, O God, know the stars, feed the blue whales, and are well acquainted with our DNA.  In you, O Lord, the heavens and the krill live and move and have their being.

All:  With wonder, and the hope it engenders, we believe, “Come! Come, Lord Jesus, Come!”

Gayle Youmans & Amy Persons Parkes © 2015

Allow Discomfort

2013-11-09 16.15.19

Photo Credit: Amy Persons Parkes

In an effort to be intentional about celebrating Advent and Christmas more fully, as outlined by Taylor Burton-Edwards, Director of Worship Resources, Discipleship Ministries (United Methodist Church), in the United Methodist Worship blog post Three Ways to Celebrate Advent and Christmas Season Fully in 2015/16 , my congregation will begin to observe Advent Sunday, November 15. The “new” fourth Sunday of Advent will be December 6.  We are following the lectionary for these Sundays, as they already exist. Using the Gospel Lessons, Gayle (the Chairperson of our Worship Committee) selected key phrases from different translations of the Bible and paired the phrases with two words that will be used for silent meditation at the beginning of worship. Using these phrases and two-word meditations as inspiration, I am writing Advent Wreath Lighting Liturgies for our Advent observance.  If you would like to use them in worship, please feel free; however, I do ask that you acknowledge Gayle Youmans and Amy Persons Parkes as the authors of the material.

November 29, 2015 (Advent 3)
Luke 21:25-35, key verse 25 (KJV):  “and there shall be signs…”
Two-word meditation:  Allow Discomfort

Leader:  The reflexive grin appearing on his lips each time she walked into the room was a sign of the proposal to come. The heavy sigh with each morning walk through the doors at work was a sign of the depression settling down. The intensity of her questions was a sign of a student gratifyingly engaged in her subject. The anvil shaped cloud was a sign of the rain and wind and thunder moving east.

The sign of childbirth is pain. The sign of attraction is an aching longing. A sign of peace at last may be death.

On this third Sunday in Advent, we light the candles of the wreath acknowledging the signs of God’s continual work in the world. We light the candles as a symbol of our desire to watch and wait for the salvation of God. Though the signs of this salvation may cause fear in the hearts of many, we will stand up and raise our heads as Christ draws near.

People: We will look for the signs.
 

Leader:  Though others may tremble and fear, we will in trust in God’s goodness.

People: Though signs of distress and anxiety abound, we will allow the discomfort to reveal the birth of a new creation that will never pass away.

 
Leader: “There shall be signs.” (Luke 21:25)
 
People: Help us, O Christ, to see and faithfully interpret the signs of your coming as ones who have no reason to fear or dread.
 
All: Come, with healing in your wings, Lord Jesus. Come!
 
Gayle Youmans and Amy Persons Parkes © 2015

A Prayer for Leaders of the Community

2015-09-25 18.46.37

Photo Credit:  Amy Persons Parkes, St. Andrew State Park, Bay County, Florida -the Pier at Sunset

a prayer offered as the invocation for the Annual Luncheon of the Bay County Economic Development Alliance, Bay County, Florida

God of us all, our Guide and Guardian,
your love never fails,
your courage never shrinks from the face of evil,
and your wisdom is never infected by fear.

God of us all, our Guide and Guardian,
your compassion outstretches our pain,
your justice overwhelms our injustice,
and your imagination and creativity exceed and encompass all perceived limitations.

As the palms and pines tremble in the gulf winds,
as jets crisscross the skies above us,
and as the wakes of ships ripple across the bay,
we ask for your inspiration this day.

As critical thinking is advanced in the classrooms surrounding us,
as state of the art technology is employed throughout our community
to heal bodies and to stream millions of gigabytes of information,
we ask you,
Source of Knowledge and Seat of Wisdom,
to give us the discernment to see a future yet to be unfolded for Bay County.

With your knowledge and in your wisdom,
empower the leaders of this gathering
to boldly step toward a future in Bay County
where every woman, man, and child is able to live meaningful and productive lives.

With your imagination and creativity,
reveal to these leaders possibilities,
where others may only perceive closed doors,
so that, no one within their sphere of influence is underemployed nor triflingly employed.

God of us all, our Guide and Guardian,
place the mantle of your Spirit on these
who offer their leadership for the betterment of the whole people of our county,
and give them the strength to bear both the heft and hope of this great responsibility
and summon within each of us the ability to work as one body,
for the good of all.  

All this, we pray in the name of Christ.  Amen.

Amy Persons Parkes © 2015

Which Bird Will Fly?

2015-04-28 16.43.09
“What do you think? A man had two sons. Now he came to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’
“‘No, I don’t want to,’ he replied. But later he changed his mind and went.
“The father said the same thing to the other son, who replied, ‘Yes, sir.’ But he didn’t go.
Which one of these two did his father’s will?” They said, “The first one.” Jesus said to them, “I assure you that tax collectors and prostitutes are entering God’s kingdom ahead of you.
                                                  Matthew 21:28-31 (Common English Bible)

We have no greater threat to our life with God than this: an inconsistency between what we say and what we do. We cannot afford to be mockingbirds who blurt out melodies of faith arising from pretend experience.  Let what we say be naked doubt or pylons of assurance, but may we stray far from an impostor’s song.

The greater threat to a life lived in peace with God is not whether we confess belief.  Rather, the greater threat is whether or not we act consistently with our confessions.

“Are you able?” Jesus asks.

“Yes, Lord, we are able!” we answer, right alongside of Peter and Judas and the other ten who, in fact, were not able.

I like words.  I want words.  I want to hear them pass across my consciousness and disrupt the quiet unease I feel when no word is there.  I yearn for the distraction of a word, the engagement of a word. I fear, too quickly, I jump full sail into the words which dribble from my loose lips, but no paper towel can whisk away the mess I often make with my words.

If I am to say a word, may the word be full – full of my heart, full of my mind, full of my body.

If I am to form a word and let it fly out of me into the wide open world, let it be like this:
The Word became Flesh and dwelt among us.

Emptying Power

Risen Christ,
with adoration and awe, we stand before an empty tomb
with thanksgiving and gratitude, we bow before an empty cross.
Help us to recognize the barren cross and the open tomb
as symbols of your victory over suffering and death.
Grant that we may know the power of your resurrecting love
breathing life into our dying,
sprouting seeds of love within our barren hearts,
and sweeping away the cobwebs of resignation and apathy in our minds.
Risen One, show us in the emptiness of our lives,
the fullness of your glory.  Amen.

© Amy Persons Parkes 2015

Ripe and Falling

fig

Jesus answered him, “Because I said, I saw you under the fig tree, do you believe?  You shall see greater things than these.”     John 1:50

For Nathaniel’s sake, I hope the figs weren’t ripe and falling.  We had a fig tree in my back yard when I was young, and the ripe figs squished between my toes when I ran bare-footed through the grass.

Being seen by Jesus under the fig tree, changed Nathaniel for the good.  Perhaps, Nathaniel was smiling or dreaming; maybe he was weeping and lost.  No matter.  Jesus saw.  Because Jesus saw Nathaniel, Nathaniel would see.  Nathaniel would see even greater things.  Nathaniel would see even greater things because the sight of God is sight shared, not sight hoarded.

I, too, am seen.  Even when I do not wish to be seen.  Even when I long to be blanketed by unknowing.  I have no invisibility cloak for this life.

Neither do you.

Like Nathaniel, we are seen.  We are seen not through the indicting stare of a self-righteous judge.  Rather, we are seen by the inquisitive and inviting eyes of a welcoming God, a welcoming God who will share God’s sight with us.  Then, we shall see.

Jesus said, “I saw you under the fig tree.”

Well, Jesus, you might as well have said –

“I saw you furiously washing the dishes and resenting every single popping bubble.”

“I saw you sleep deprived and blindly probing every corner of the crib for that blasted pacifier.”

“I saw you praying over urine, when the minus never became a plus.”

For all of life that we thought was unseen, because we believed the moment was too private, too petty, or too ordinary to cross anyone else’s line of sight, a compassionate God has witnessed all of it.  ALL of it.

For Nathaniel’s sake, I hope the figs weren’t ripe and falling; but just in case they were, something tells me that Jesus would not have been put-off by someone covered in ripe fig guts.

© Amy Persons Parkes 2014