If there was a soundtrack to Summer 2011 in my car it was Lady Gaga’s new album, Born this Way.  My daughter and her friends are a Gaga-devotees, known in Gaga-world as a “Little Monsters.”   Lady Gaga calls herself, “Mother Monster.”  I broke down and bought the CD for my daughter.  It was played incessantly all summer.  I began to really like the album, fell in love with the beat and mix of music.  My daughter and I crank up the music in the car sometimes and sing along at the top of our lungs.  There is pure fun in this album, something we all need.   It was then I realized that I was becoming a “little monster” too.

Some of the lyrics in the album can be raw and offend.  Yet there is a theological undergirding to the album.  Sprinkled throughout are questions about our relationship to God and specifically to Jesus.   After the release of the album this spring, some religious leaders panned it—offended in part by the lyrics of the song Judas.  As I listened to the Judas song I heard something else, an age-old theological discussion set to a new tune about good vs. evil.   Gaga sings:

I’m in love with Judas/When he calls me I am ready/Even after three times he betrays me/Oh baby it’s so cruel but/I’m still in love with Judas baby/In the most biblical sense I am beyond repentance/I wanna love you/But something’s pulling me away from you/Jesus is my virtue/And Judas is the demon I cling to/I cling to—I’m a holy fool

Hidden in the controversial lyrics of the song are nuggets of truth.  We want to be good; we want Jesus or God as our virtue in life.  Yet, we cling to the demons or the Judas’ in our lives.   We are human.

On a Sunday in mid-July this summer I put a quote from the Judas song:  Jesus is my virtue, and Judas is the demon I cling to in our Sunday bulletin.  I wondered how my congregation, demographically representative of most mainline congregations, would react.  In my sermon I drew attention to the quote and Gaga, using them to weave a sermon about the issues of good vs. evil that we all grapple with in life.   The theological conversation in worship received positive reactions.  The youth and children paid attention.  Even our music search committee talked about Gaga with candidates we were interviewed later that afternoon!   I worried (a bit!) about the potential risk of an example in a sermon that some listening could dismiss as “offensive” or “having no place” in Christian worship. Just the opposite occurred.   Using Gaga as the hook to hang a sermon and discussion about a difficult theological concept seemed to work just right.

Other serious theological issues find their home in the album.   Gaga struggles throughout in an open and honest way with her own fears and insecurities that mirror the ones so many of her “Little Monsters” have.   No song deals with these issues more overtly than the cover Born this Way.   In the memorable litany of this song Gaga lists “categories” that cause harsh judgment of people, when in fact they were born this way.

Mi amore vole fe yah (love needs faith)/Subway kids, rejoice your truth/In the religion of the insecure/I must be myself, respect by youth/Don’t be a drag, just be a queen/Whether you’re broke or evergreen/You’re black, white, beige, chola decent/You’re Lebanese, your orient/Whether life’s disabilities/Left you outcast, bullied or teased/Rejoice and love yourself today/Cause baby, you were born this way

For congregational use, I intend to pair this song with an episode of the hit TV show Glee. In it the music teacher at the fictitious McKinley High School is horrified by a conversation he overhears between his students.  One young girl has broken her nose and is being pressured by her doctor to use it as an opportunity to “fix” her nose which the doctor deems “ugly”.   Confused and upset, the young girl solicits advice from friends, leading into a conversation around the insecurities all the students have.  Self-hate is evident in all the youth.  The teacher attempts to dissuade the students from the negative self images they have admitted to:  “The thing you’d most like to change about yourself if the most interesting part of you…”   He’s quickly put in his place by one of the students: “Maybe [you are right], but at this school the thing that makes you different is the thing that people use to crush your spirit.”

There it is.   The answer we know to be true for the youth in our congregations and communities.   As leaders in congregations we have words of faith to help and heal.  But we need new language to help  the communication.

The teacher in Glee does just this.  He uses Gaga’s Born this Way.  The episode ends with the youth (and adults) singing and dancing to Born this Way.  They open up their cardigan sweaters to reveal t-shirts imprinted with their “vices” as a way of embracing and coming out to who they are as individuals and a group.

Likes Boys…Butt Chin…Four Eyes…Brown Eyes (not blue!)…Loose Caboose…OCD…Bad Attitude…Lesbian…Big Nose…No Weave…Can’t sing…  

A possible use for a congregation could be the pairing of Gaga’s song and the Glee episode for a theological conversation around what it means to be made in the image of God.  The Glee episode says nothing of faith, but Gaga does.

I’m beautiful in my own way because God makes no mistakes.

How might using the album in this way open up new and innovative conversations in your congregation?

I of course, was nervous about trying something new, wondering what the reactions would be.  I have learned through, over my two and a half year (so far!) time with Watchung Avenue Presbyterian Church that this is a very adventurous and forgiving congregation—which gives so much freedom to try all sorts of new things!   That is a huge asset and a gift beyond all others!

This is how prayer stations work:  Instead of the usual prayers of the people (one person praying while others sit quietly in the pews), stations are created around the room/sanctuary that can be just about anything that invites and elicits prayer.  Because they are different they evoke new senses out of us in our response to the movement of the Spirit in our lives.  We see new things and we hear a new Word from God as we pray.

Our stations this past weekend focused on our scripture readings from Isaiah and Mark that were the cornerstone of our worship service.

These were the descriptions of our five prayer stations:

Today in place of the Prayers of the People we will share the practice of interactive prayer stations.   The idea is to get up and to interact in silence with others as you offer prayers to God in a variety of ways.  You may go to as many or as few stations of prayer as you want to.

There are five prayer stations throughout the Sanctuary…

Prayer Wall—This prayer station is located on the back wall of the Sanctuary.  Here you are invited to write short prayers to God, reflecting on prayer questions related to the Isaiah and Mark readings for this Sunday.

Prayer Ornaments—This prayer station is located on the side of the church near the front.  Here you will find small clear glass ball ornaments.  You are invited to write Advent “spiritual intentions” on strips of colored paper and then place them into your ornament to take home.  You can then place your ornament on your Christmas Tree at home as a way of remembering the spiritual commitments you have made today to God at the beginning of your Advent journey.

Prayer Ribbons—This prayer station is located at the front of the church in front of the Christmas Tree.  Here you are invited to write Advent prayers for the world.  Leave one prayer tied to the tree and take one prayer home with you.

Remembering Your Baptism—This prayer station is located at the front of the church at the Baptismal Font which is filled with water.  Come and dip your hands in the water and remember that as one who has been baptized into Christ you are loved by God.   As you dip your hands into the water ask God to help open your heart to the new places that God in Jesus Christ is calling you during this Advent Season.

The Silence of the Moment—Quiet music will be played throughout this time in worship. You can always return (or stay) in your pew to pray silently.

I noticed many things this Sunday in worship as people went to the prayer stations:

• Children and youth in the church smiling and having fun
• People pausing in prayer on the steps in front the baptismal font, some with their hands over their eyes, some with their hands raised in the air
• Tears
• Smiles as people passed each other and got near to each other as they moved through the prayer stations
• Thoughtful pauses and some people stopped to contemplate the questions on the prayer wall

The space felt different, worship felt different.  I am only hearing good feedback, but seriously, if people have other feedback—I really do want to hear it so we can keep making this the best possible experience of worship for everyone!

And some samplings of the prayers that were written on the prayer wall this Sunday:

• Find ways to do more with less and then have more to give
• Remember the “real” Christmas!
• Give my time and talent to those in need!
• To dig deeper and share with those in need
• Supporting our military always!
• Be with us as we await your return
• Thanks to our military, but God, let there be no need!
• Remember to begin and end the day with “global” prayer
• Agonizing over the writing of Christmas cards
• Away from commercialism and toward the reality of God in Christ in our lives
• To prevent violence against children
• God thank you for our food  –from a child

There are a few photos in this posting, but if you want to see all the photos from the prayer stations click here

So what do you think about this?   How did you sense the Spirit moving on Sunday morning?

…And see you this Sunday for worship at 10AM in the Sanctuary, we’ll be doing more prayer stations, and yes, they will be different, we’ll be doing this all the way until we get to Christmas!

Peace…..Shannan

That was the name on the cross that I was given to carry at the School of the Americas Vigil last weekend.   The SOA research team writes this about the massacre that Guillermo was killed in thirteen years ago:

 “On 11 November 1988 heavily armed men drove in trucks into the center of Segovia, opened fire and threw grenades indiscriminately, killing 43 people, including three children, and wounding over 50 others. The regular garrisons of the police and military (belonging to the Batallón Bomboná of the 16th Brigade) stood by while the killers moved freely through the town for over an hour. Their entry appeared to have been facilitated by the removal of military checkpoints normally stationed on the road into the town. The paramilitary force made its getaway in three vehicles in which they travelled from Segovia through the neighboring town of Remedios towards Puerto Berrío. No attempt was made by the security forces to detain the group. Local army spokesmen immediately attributed the killing to guerrilla groups, but after the army version was challenged by survivors the then Minister of the Interior, César Gaviria Trujillo, said a “right-wing paramilitary group” was responsible.”

Now I had a cross with his Guillermo’s name on it in my hands twenty-three years later, a cross I carried with me all day, lifted high in the air with each Presente!, a cross I placed into the gates of a military bases in my own country that has trained so many people who have returned to their countries throughout Latin America to commit massacres, torture, and intimidation of their people.   I thought about Guillermo all day last Sunday during the Vigil outside the gates of Ft. Benning—I wondered about his life, and who he was—and I prayed for his family that I am sure is still grieving the senseless loss of his life today.

Guillermo's cross in the gate of Ft. Benning

Amnesty International has also written about the massacre that took Guillermo’s life along with those of 42 other innocents:

 “The Northeast of the department of Antioquia is made up of the municipalities of Amalfi, Anorí, Cisneros, El Bagre, Maceo, Remedios, Vegachí, Yalí, Yolombó, Zaragoza and Segovia. This is a region rich in mineral deposits, particularly gold, exploited by international companies who employ 5% of the economically active population. Approximately 45% of the economically active population live in marginal urban areas in the region and earn a meagre living panning for gold in sites abandoned by the transnational mining companies. The remainder of the civilian population works in the agricultural sector.”

“Mining interests in the region, particularly those associated with gold and silver, together with construction of the Oleoducto Colombiano, Colombian Oilpipeline, means that the northeast of Antioquia is a region of considerable strategic importance, one in which mining and other powerful economic interests are keen to ensure that guerrilla groups and legal leftwing political parties do not represent a serious challenge to their interests.”

Sound familiar?

This past year the Presbyterian Peace Fellowship worked tirelessly along with our other grassroots partners to try to stop Congress from passing the US-Colombia Free Trade Agreement.   One of the main reasons for this was that we have been told by our partners in Colombia that the CFTA will allow for great incursion of multi-nationals to take over and exploit the land of Colombia.  Our program of Accompaniment in Colombia is with displaced communities and a church that has committed its life and mission to walking beside and serving the displaced people of Colombia.  We worked against the CFTA because we know it will only increase land-grabs and forced displacement in Colombia which is a direct link to the ministry of the Iglesia Presbiteriana de Colombia, our mission partner.

This fall Oxfam released a report in Colombia titled “Land and Power “[1] and its lead writer Asier Hernando gave an interview just this past week to Caracol Radio in Colombia where he stated that,

“Colombia is one of the countries in the world with the most inequality in the access to land. There are few countries more unequal than Colombia, and this leads to massive rural poverty, contributes to conflict and limits the country’s development.”

The cross I carried last Sunday at the SOA for Guillermo de Jesus Ariza is a cross that ended up representing the struggle that we have been about this past year.   Land grabs.  Multinationals teaming up with paramilitary forces and even parts of the Colombian armed forces to keep local people off the land that they want to exploit for economic gain.  Greed that leads to death of people and death of a way of life.

All of these thoughts have been swirling around in my head this past week after going to the SOA Vigil.  I was honored to carry Guillermo’s cross.  I was honored to receive this particular cross, to have the opportunity to go back and figure out who he was and to be reminded that the struggle we in PPF were a part of this fall is part of a larger and deeper struggle of conscience against war, militarism, death, and violence.   Carrying his cross last Sunday was an act of faithfulness for me.   It was yet another transformative experience.  I keep thinking about how honored I was to carry Guillermo’s cross.

My final thought on the SOA is this:  we walked together on Christ the King Sunday, the last Sunday in Ordinary Time before the beginning of the Advent Season.  In her beautiful commentary on the scripture readings for the first Sunday of Advent in the new book Preaching God’s Transforming Justice Leanora Tubbs Tisdale writes these words about the first Sunday of Advent:

“The church glimpses an answer to that prayer [of the Prophet Isaiah in 64: 1-9] in the birth of the Incarnate One, the child who in his very being bridges that great chasm between heaven and earth.”   She goes on to write about the Mark reading that “this means that continue doing what Jesus said: to grow in discipleship, to announce the coming of the realm of God, to cast out demons, and to carry this ministry to the Gentiles.  The congregation is to continue these activities even when suffering.  In Mark’s world, these acts of witness all point toward social justice, for they point toward the realm of God as a social world in which all circumstances and relationships fully manifest God’s purposes of love, justice, peace, mutual support, and abundance.”

As we reflected last Sunday night with friends from the Chicago Religious Leadership on Latin America about our weekend at the SOA Vigil, a pastor from Chicago said that his yearly pilgrimage to the SOA is his way of getting ready for Advent.   I found that for me, that was also very true.  I found myself thinking about Advent all weekend, as I thought about Guillermo.  I was thinking about our faith in the Resurrection, but also that this faith frees us to live without fear and to proclaim the message of Christ wherever we go—even into the places of the deepest pain and sorrow we can imagine.

I am praying for Guillermo’s family this Advent Season.  I am so grateful to have been able to be at the SOA Vigil last weekend and to be handed a cross that reminded me of the connections between faith, justice, and the world we struggle for that I and PPF has been a part of this last year as we seek together to follow the Risen Christ.

As we journey into Advent may we continue to do the same.

A Meditation on Romans 14: 1-12 by Rev. Shannan R. Vance-Ocampo

Sunday September 11, 2011 (Ten Year Anniversary of September 11^th)

Watchung Avenue Presbyterian Church

Let us pray: Your presence like treasure hidden in a field.  Your Glory like gold buried on the pathway of every moment.  Your Wisdom like the finest oil waiting to be pressed from the human heart from every nation from every people from every child.  Your Wisdom, O God, to show us the way.[i]

I began thinking about this anniversary months ago.  It hit me that the 10^th anniversary of September 11^th was going to fall on a Sunday, meaning that this milestone of the first decade would be on the day when you and I gather together as a community of faith.  It seems appropriate to me that we would be here, that we would be in this place as we think and reflect on that day.

For me personally, I have been a mix of emotions this whole week as we have approached today.  As you know, I was just two months into my first call in ministry when the attacks of September 11^th happened.   I remember that I was full of the excitement of just starting ministry, and I was also nervous, still trying to get my bearings.  Like everyone, that day is etched into my memory forever.  One of the things that I find myself reflecting on is that the tragedy that was September 11^th happened right as I started ministry—and that the day and what has happened afterwards is now a constant part of my ministry. I knew hardly anything of ordained ministry before that day, and will never know ordained ministry without that day.   It’s something I think about a lot.

Of course, the day happened.  There are so many details to that day, I can still remember exactly everything that we did and went through.   Most of all I remember the stress, the worry, and how rapidly the day went.   I remember the sky turning a strange burnt orange color as the smoke made its way to us from the city.   I remember a hastily called meeting of the local clergy group, about 15 of us crammed into the study at the Red Bank Presbyterian Church.  Cell phones going off and the church secretary at that congregation running in and out of the room as each of us received news and updates about members of our congregations.  I remember participating in a worship service that evening, people streaming into the church and sitting in the pews covered in ash and soot.  And I remember being called into our local hospital ER the next day to help the staff chaplain there deal with the droves of people admitting themselves into our local hospital for emergency psychological care, who were having nervous breakdowns after everything they had seen and experienced in New York City.  And I remember the funerals and the aftermath for so many months after.

Just last Sunday I was with Sofia in Summit at this new place in town she loves, a frozen yogurt shop.  I was sitting with her, eating yogurt, my chair facing the storefront window, and I glanced up at the sky outside.  Flying unnaturally low was a huge plane and it was wobbling wing tip to wing tip—flying in a strange way.  The sky was hazy, and the plane was going in the direction of New York City.  I panicked, and ran outside to look at the plane, and in that moment realized that there were other people in the same panicked state as I was in standing on the street with me staring at the sky.   It was a huge plane, it was the size of one of those C-17 military cargo jets.   I had never seen one of those in the skies above Summit.   Later in the day I realized what I probably saw was part of the President’s security detail, he had been in Paterson viewing flood damage from last week, and his security detail tends to fly decoy planes.  But, as I stood on the sidewalk in Summit last Sunday with other people, I stopped to look around me, and saw looks of fear and panic on their faces.  I realize in moments like these just how affected we all are in our own ways—how much fear still lives inside of us ready to jump up and be at the forefront of our emotions in a second.   The trauma we all know as we live near New York City from that ten years ago is very deep.

I have told the story before, that prior to September 11^th I was registered to attend a clergy conference up at the Stony Point Center in the first week of October of 2001.   It was to be led by the renowned Catholic priest, John Dear—who has dedicated his entire life to the practice and teaching of nonviolence.  I remember that weekend away helping begin the process of healing my hurt soul from the ministry I had been engaged in for the few weeks before.   John spoke eloquently about the need for peace and nonviolence in a time of fear.  He spoke out just three weeks after September 11^th against the use of military force as a way of responding to what had happened, and he connected the dots for me theologically between what I had experienced so early in my ministry and what sort of lived out response as a person of faith that I might choose to take.   I remain so grateful for that weekend to this day because John reconnected me to what had been taught and modeled my whole life growing up in church.  He pulled me out of the pit of anger and the pit of wanting a vengeful and reactionary response to what had happened.   He pointed me in a direction—to a path that I continue to try to walk to this day, a path of peacemaking in ministry and in life—as way of attempting to faithfully respond to the violence and trauma that I was pulled into so early in my ministry.

I believe this really is the question for us today, ten years later.  What choices are we going to make?  How are we going to live?  And, what are we going to do with the lives that in love and grace were given to us by the living God in Jesus Christ?

We have to live with not just September 11^th, but with all of our lives—the good, the bad, and the ugly.   The answers for each of us to these questions are going to be different.   Even without the event that was September 11^th in our lives individually and collectively, we would have to answer these questions—these are the questions God asks of each of us.  What are we going to do with our lives?  What is authentic for you, what is authentic for me, in how we choose to order our lives as a response to the gift of love and grace that we have in Jesus Christ?   How can we live with deep intention and with careful thought about what is and is not appropriate as people who call ourselves by the name “Christian”?  It is a journey, and the only choice for each of us is whether or not we are going to take the journey seriously or not.

Now let me just say—we are not expected to be perfect!  Just look at the reading for today from Romans if you want to be reminded of this!  Paul is writing to the Roman Church—he is suggesting that they live in a non-judgmental way, he is suggesting they practice forgiveness, but in this very same passage Paul himself cannot do it!   Out of one side of his mouth Paul is saying to forgive and out of the other side of his mouth he is saying that the people who he disagrees with are weak in their faith.

We are like that—confused and multifaceted.  And when we are under threat—we are even more confused—even less able to make sense of our lives and the direction God wants for us.

One of the commentators on this passage in Romans writes this:  “Our strength comes not from our traditions or our church membership.  Strength is not defined by how much Bible we know, or even how much we contribute financially to the congregation.  Our strength lies in understanding that the integrity with which we live our lives is tied directly to how our beliefs guide our actions…there are many who self-identify as ‘strong Christians’, when the truth of the matter is that their judgmental spirit renders them weak in the eyes of God and the community.”[ii]

There are lots of stories that you and I know of these last ten years.  The stories that lift me up the most and remind me of my calling are the stories of hope and determination—while at the same time acknowledging the wounds and scars.   We are not perfect and yet we live.

PBS showed a documentary[iii] this week that followed some of the wives of the firefighters who died in the Towers.

One woman and her husband had two autistic sons that needed round-the-clock supervision and care before September 11^th.  When her husband died, it was all left to her.  The reality of her life after September 11^th was so painful, but she found the strength to build a Foundation which to this date has built two new group homes for autistic young men in memory of her husband and the love he had for their two boys.

Another woman founded what has grown to this day to be a huge marathon called “Tunnels to the Towers” to commemorate the firefighters who drove through the tunnels to the Twin Towers and to their deaths—all in the name of service and choosing to stand in those terrible moments on the side of life rather than death.   That woman said these words, “Before September 11^th I never would have done something like this: led something.  My husband did things like this, and I stood on the sidelines and cheered.  But I realized after he died I had to pick myself up, and become something more that who I had been before.”

These women are not perfect.  They still get together for support, to cry with each other, to let their children play with each other.   They are wounded, scared, and broken—but they are also moving forward with grace—and each day thinking carefully about the question: What are you going to do with your life—how will you live as an expression of your faith, what will you do?

There are always September 11^ths.   We feel this once deeply and acutely because we lived through it.  But there are other tragedies in life that cripple, maim, and change us.  It is nearly impossible to go through this life and not escape without a scar or two.   God is present in it all.  God is asking us the question—what are you going to do with your life, how are you going to choose to live?  What intention as a person who follows God in Jesus Christ will you have?

Two chapters before this one we heard today in Roman’s Paul writes these words:

Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” No, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12:19-21)[iv]

            How will you live? 

How will we live? 

What will we make of the next ten years of our lives, and of the life of this

world that God in Jesus Christ with great and unimaginable love has given

for us to tend and care for? 

What will we do? 

What will we do?  Amen.