Co-Missioning

Our bags are packed; we're ready to go. KLM/Royal Dutch Airlines allows us two - 50 lb suitcases. David and I have carefully weighed and re-weighed each one. My rolling duffel weighs 50.2 lbs and is full of clothes -- hot and cold weather-- shoes and boots-- which I plan to leave in Iran. My second, smaller suitcase, has 5 lbs of yarn and knitting needles and 45 lbs of books (including one 900 page novel). My fat journal and heavy reference Bible (with all the underlining and great notes) go into my enormous purse so they can't be lost or sent by accident to Bombay or Nairobi. Our passports are laying in a chair by the front door. David has taken our 12 year old cat, Smoky, down the street to our neighbor, Jan, who will keep him for us.

Last Sunday at our beloved "sending church" -- First U Methodist-- we were commissioned by Pastor Ron and our prayer team (who will pray for our time in Iran daily). I looked up some definitions of commissioning for clarity. To "commission" is to appoint someone with a task and to give them authority for that task. The origin of commission is MIddle English/Old French -- "committere" -- to entrust, to put something precious into someone's care and protecton. As David and I knelt for prayer and the laying on of hands, the surge of love, peace and unity would have brought me to my knees had I been standing. In the congregation sat a Muslim friend from Kosovo--"You will be happy," she said firmly. "God brought us safely here and God will care for you there."

Later in the week I went for a routine medical test. The woman doing medical records was warm and pleasant and very fond of David during his nine year tenure as hospital chaplain. She said to me, "Aren't you at least a little bit afraid?" I thought she was referring to the test or the disease it might reveal and looked at her befuddled. When I realized she was referring not to a mammogram but to living in Iran, I responded with a hearty "Oh, no, I'm delighted at the opportunity." Then it was her turn to look at me with confusion. It called to mind a phone conversation I had with a family member who asked no questions about what a Muslim-Christian Exchange might be like for two ministers but did give me a good lecture about sanity.

As we leave for MCC Orientation (which will last for two weeks), I think of all of you who are co-missioning with us... congregations who are becoming our "prayer partners," those with hearts for reconciliation, many working for the Peaceable Commonwealth in myriad ways; those who feel anxious about our going and those who feel perfect peace. All of God's people are entrusted with the precious, living call of the Gospel --- to live life as a journey of trust, embracing the invitation to live anywhere at all as brothers and sisters. "For Christ himself is our peace... he has broken down the dividing wall, the hostility between us.... he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father" (Eph 2:14ff).

Epiphany 6 January, 2007

This is 12th Night-- Epiphany-- the 12th of the "12 Days of Christmas." I credit a Greek Orthodox friend in Florida many years ago with my delight in Ephiphany, magi and the Feast of Lights (when young guys from Tarpon Springs dive into deep waters, after a priest has prayed a blessing and then flung a cross far into the waves). Dying and rising again, traveling to new depths, the mystery of the Gospel as it is flung throughout the world.

Matthew alone of the Gospel writers mentions the magi (the plural of magus)-- a hereditary, priesty class among the Persians and Medes, showing up in Jerusalem. They made not only Herod nervous and upset but "all of Jerusalem with him."
Rome wouldn't quietly acquiesce to another pretender to Jerusalem's throne and no one wanted or needed more civil unrest. Despite the obvious tension, these "wise men" insisted on knowing where exactly the King of the Jews had been born.

The magi (more than one of them and bearing three gifts) are cloaked in mystery and are usually seen by the Christian church as indicators of the vast gentile world looking for the Savior who came for them, too. People in the early centuries of the church simply understood the magi to be Persians -- mosaics and artwork of the era always show them in Persian attire. It's rumored that the Church of the Nativity in Jerusalem was spared sacking by a Persian army in the 7th century because the lovely fresco inside showed the magi, the three kings, dressed as elegant Persians.

Marco Polo, during his 13th century ramblings, named the city of Saveh, southwest of Tehran, as the final resting place for these magi. Other Persians maintained that the magi were buried in Ecbatan-- a bit farther southwest, near the tomb of Queen Esther. Tonight I sit here in southern Virginia and ponder them once more. Were they Zoroastrians? Searching for the Messiah-King that the Jews had made known? Skilled astrologers and astronomers, certainly. Magicians, conjurors, wise men? And if so wise, why did they come to a Roman collaborator like Herod?

Imagine these wealthy gentiles, used to casting astrological charts for royalty and noble families-- planning the most auspicious times for weddings and contracts, predicting the destiny of a child. Their services were highly valued and well paid. Yet something in the heavens caught and kept their attention. Leaving court and palace for the boondocks of Palestine, they continued west until they entered the occupied territory of Jerusalem and then Bethlehem, overwhelmed with joy to be in the presence of the Christ child.

The magi, in their long and odd journey (what other wealthy gentiles would have left lovely and sophisticated Persia for the backwaters of Bethlehem?) ask a central faith question: how far are we willing to travel, how much discomfort will we endure, to be in right relationship with God and with one another? The magi seemed to know what they had seen among the stars and to trust that God was working hard on humanity's behalf. They wanted to show up and cooperate with what this mysterious God was doing.

Epiphany -- the "shining forth" of the star and of the Christ child that the magi found, reminds me that the Christian gospel holds out hope not just for "us" but for all of humanity. Agape love can never be privatized. We are given the ability to love what and whom we should love as a free gift of this amazing God who continues to come into a world that has broken itself. For the nature of God's unconditional, gracious love, is to make all things new.