Heard the Word: MaryAnn McKibben Dana

MaryAnn McKibben Dana

MaryAnn McKibben Dana is a pastor and writer (check out her blog The Blue Room) and mom and spouse and denominational leader and spiritual speaker and OH MY WORD WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING WITH MY LIFE??? Seriously. She's one of those people who, when you read their bio, you think, "How. How? How!" But then, when you hear her preach, she's so nice and wonderful and focused and passionate, you think, "Oh!"

So, she's a regular congregational preacher like most of the Festival attendees, and her message "Lips, Stomach, Heart" based on Matthew 15: 10-28 was a really fine example of a preacher who has wrestled with her text, come up a with a bloody lip, and is sharing her honest learnings with the assembly. Her movement from an image of "Jesus caught with his compassion down" to a God of ever-increasing grace was thoughtful, aware of the listener, couched in our current context, and really accessible. I can see why she's a great congregational speaker.

One piece of her message that struck me was her commentary on our current culture of saying more and more about less and less and her commentary on our snark-obsessed virtual world. She reads the story of Jesus and the Canaanite woman through this lens. And if Jesus' words are less than kind, our cultured response would be to expect, even demand, snarkiness back. Instead, Dana called us to something greater, to one-liners that elevate. She said, "The Canaanite woman does this: She polishes the defiled words [Jesus spoke to her] off, and hands them back and says, 'There. That's more like it.' That's our job as preachers, too, in an age of snarkiness."

So often, I get caught up in a culture of quick retort and snark. It's funny, fun, and oftentimes immediately gratifying. A deft smart response often gets a greater reaction (and support, really) than does a thoughtful one. How often, then, as a preacher, am I able to just as quickly respond with words that elevate? With words that take the conversation to a more balanced, peace-filled space, where ideas can be handed back with a little sheen of grace on them. Actually, I think that this is the pastoral care aspect of what Anna Carter Florence was talking about in her discussion of living in a parable universe--when we see sacramentally, we can preach sacramentally, but then we must also live sacramentally in our everyday conversations. One liners that elevate. Gonna let that one marinate.

Dana appeared to be a confident preacher, who brought her own style to the preaching moment. One classmate pointed out that she was herself, even down to her patterned pants, not trying to dress down or up or around or any other way that looked uncomfortable for her. She moved. She gestured. And she seemed like herself.

Her preaching inspired a conversation between a classmate and myself about how women use their voices. We talked about the breathiness that so many women adopt when addressing a large group (Dana did not do this, but 4 of the 5 women who asked questions afterward did.). Where does it come from? I said that I thought it was a way of sounding humble and unassuming. To speak with breathiness is to defer in some way, but my friend said that she found it to be sickeningly sweet. Both of us agreed that it can be one way that women choose to make their voices smaller in society. I began thinking about how clearly Anna Carter Florence and Barbara Brown Taylor spoke today, how I was captivated not only by their words, but by the strong, clear tone of their voices. It's something I need to pay better attention to in myself. How often am I minimizing myself through my voice or actions (or humor, as is often my case)? How might this be diminishing the message I have been tasked with giving?

Heard the Word(?): Kevin Kling, Storyteller

Kevin Kling!

So, this was billed as some kind of talk entitled, "Preaching with Holy Imagination," but I don't think that's what actually happened. Instead, I think Kevin Kling treated us to some great stories. I kept waiting for the preaching application, for the explicit link between what he was doing and what we were doing there, but I never really heard it. So, was it preaching?

Before we jump into that one, let me first say that Kling is an immensely talented storyteller. He spoke about seeing grace in the everyday things of life, and through his stories it was easy to see that he finds humor and relationships to be the means of that grace. He had the audience immediately with his wit and ease. He shared about himself in ways that could have been uncomfortable, but he did so with a grace that made it friendly, made it personal, made it sharing.

All of Kevin's stories had a sweetness and an edge to them--many of them involved his navigation of life as a person with a disability. And I noticed that Kling is a master of taking the audience right up to the brink of grace, and then giving it a flick of humor, sending the moment off in a fit of laughter. And observing this made me wonder whether grace is experienced as fully when it's packaged as a punchline. In speaking with my classmates afterwards, everyone seemed to have enjoyed his talk. And rightfully so: his vignettes were masterfully crafted, his presence was unassuming, and he kept us with him the whole way.

For me, the experience lacked seriousness, and for some reason, I equate this with grace, with preaching. It's likely this says more about me than it does Kling. But then I began to wonder whether the grace of the experience was just in the experience itself--in laughing together, in glimpsing what life for someone who is differently-abled than me is like without feeling exploitative, in hearing familiarity and difference in our lives, in hearing his witness to the power of prayer and sacramental vision. I don't know.

And I still don't know if I think this was preaching. But I can tell you that I'll be chewing on that for a while.

Heard the Word: Rev. Frank A. Thomas on Happy

Last evening was commencement for Eden Theological Seminary's Class of 2014. Rev. Frank A. Thomas Matthew 5: 1-12. Having read one of his books for the preaching class I took this past semester, I was excited to experience his message firsthand. His message was dynamic, relevant, connected to the gospel message, and delivered in a way that made me feel spoken to and not preached at.

Rev. Frank A. Thomas--See? He talks with his hands.

offered a message entitled, "What Makes You Happy?" based on

Thomas' "exegetical bridge," as he called it, was to draw the connection between Pharrell William's hit song, "Happy" and the Beatitudes (working the translation from "Blessed are..." to "Happy are..."). Beyond just making a nicely little connection and pointing us towards a great pop culture artifact (he tipped me off to 24hoursofhappy.com--a 24 hour music video of people being happy to "Happy."), he dug deeper into both Pharrell William's story and the message of the Beatitudes to categorize 'happiness' as "offering your gift to the world in the purity of your call and in the discipline of your hard work." 

Over and over, Thomas came back to this phrase, molding it, defining it, redefining it, growing it, and eventually planting it into the hearts of those gathered to hear. By the end of the message, Williams' song had been redefined from a catchy hit to a call to discipleship, a celebration of living out the gifts God has given each of us in a way that is pure and disciplined. Perhaps one of the most powerful layers Thomas added to the message was his inclusion of Mother Teresa's "Anyway" poem. By the end of the message, he had everyone there responding to being "Happy, Anyway."

I think what stuck out most to me about experiencing Thomas' message in person is that his presence wasn't anything particularly striking. He talks with his hands, which was great for me to see. So far, I haven't seen many people who talk with their hands as much as I do preach from the pulpit. Seeing him do it helped me to understand how it might be possible for me to do the same. At the same time, he did have a nervous habit of messing with the tassel on his mortarboard cap, and pushing on his glasses.

But embodiment isn't want captivated us. It was the message itself. I had a deep sense that Thomas was simply convicted of the truth of his message, of the work he had put into it, and of the Spirit's work in its reception. It was the message that connected us to him in that moment, the message that did all the work for him. No doubt he read the room well, though, several times stopping and calling us to listen harder, to catch on to what the Word was speaking, and to respond to it ourselves. He was both teasing and gentle, assertive and generous, and he brought me to a space of excitement, honor, and truth about my own sense of call and how to live it out in the world.

The whole evening was a proud event. I watched people who I've watched come to bloom over the course of the last three years experience a culminating moment, and any time that happens, it is such a celebration. There was sweetness, a tinge of sadness, but overall excitement at the idea that if each of these people is able to live into the purity of his or her call and pair it with the discipline of his or her hard work, the world will be changed. That is reason for celebration, indeed.

Reading Up: Knowing your message and preaching to the margins.

Reading Yvette Flunder's chapter in Birthing the Sermon, I was struck by two things: 1) She has such a clear understanding of the underlying gospel message she is charged with preaching. She writes, "That struggle [for equality, parity, and justice] is the long, strong, deep, resonant bass line of all I preach, sing, and pray about" (68). 2) She also has a deep sense of who her audience is when she preaches--those who are marginalized or feel marginalized by the church.

What is the bass line for my preaching? The line everything else hangs on?

And who is my audience? I already have a hint at this--I feel called to preach to those who don't realize that the church could be for them, that the gospel message could be for them, that God could be for them. Marginalized? Yes.

Favorite Quotes:

• "Mine is a voice that passionately preaches justice and freedom with responsibility; however, not to the exclusion of Jesus" (68).
• "People who have for generations been abused by the preaching of the Bible need to hear the Bible preached in ways that affirm and validate them" (68).
• "The gospel is from the community as well as to it" (69).
• "It is not enough for me to simply be profound; I must seek to be a profound blessing, by hearing from God and paying close attention to the 'voice' of the listening congregation" (69).
• "We all keep secrets, so what would they[the biblical writers] rather we did not know?" (71).
• Preaching to people who are on the edge of society and the mainline church must have good content and good form. Preaching to marginalized people mus be believable, powerful, and passionate" (73).