Now renegades are the people with their own philosophies

They change the course of history

Everyday people like you and me

We’re the renegades we’re the people

With our own philosophies

We change the course of history

Everyday people like you and me

As I said in my homily yesterday, the stuff that got Jesus killed was rebellion.  He was a renegade.  He didn’t simply tow the line and pretend that everything was hunky dory.  He also didn’t go about tearing the system down with his own hands all by himself.  He was crucified, the torture/murder device reserved for those that rebel themselves or insight rebellion against Rome.  He was getting others to do it.

And yes, Jesus was guilty.

Jesus’s actions here, at the climax of his life, were to insight rebellion.  It wasn’t a bunch hypothetical suppositions about what God wants from us.  He didn’t expound on theological arguments about the ordered creation and salvation history as being created upon his untimely death.  He didn’t meekly remind people to simply be good people in their individual lives, doing what they can from time to time, paying it forward when they remembered to.  No, Jesus instigated a rebellion.  It just didn’t look anything like anyone expected.

I visited a friend’s church today.  It was a non-denominational evangelical church.  [Benji, we had a really good time!]  And the sermon was about being like Jesus.  Could this be more timely?

I have been trying to be more like that rebellious Jesus.  Months ago, I kicked off a new direction for this blog by saying that I wouldn’t keep quiet about my vocational discernment, the type of radio silence necessary to “land a good job” with a church.  In other words, to not be myself or behave myself.  To not write about what is petty, broken, wrong, and just plain ridiculous about how the Episcopal Church does transition ministry.  Have I thrown anyone under the buss?  No.  What I wrote about was how crazy it was to take a phone interview in a parking lot.  About having to deal with children while my wife is at work and take that important phone call.  And next I plan on writing about the craziness of trying to figure out what to wear for a Skype interview.  This may seem small, but the unwritten rule for transition ministry is the same as the #1 rule of Fight Club.

Another choice I’ve made is to embrace my decision to stay home with my kids.  I am still actively searching for a new ministry, most likely in a parish, but I am no longer going to cower when asked “well, what have you been doing since April?” as if what I’m doing is less, or not sufficiently martyrish for a search committee.  If I said that I volunteered for 20 hours at a nearby church, started 2 book clubs, and was the Wednesday night regular head server at the soup kitchen, it would only begin to make me look “industrious” enough.  I’ve been served two lemons and I somehow have to make them into an entire gourmet lemonade stand with 12 flavors.  Then inevitably some duck will walk up to my lemonade stand and ask me “got any grapes?”

Of course, neither of these is as monumental as Jesus’s harassing of the church leaders.  But Jesus is talking about walking the walk.  He’s talking about being a different people that are bold, not in the certitude of doctrine, but in the certitude of our mission.

A mission about changing the world.

From a different solar system many many galaxies away

We are the force of another creation

A new musical revelation

And we’re on this musical mission to help the others listen

And groove from land to land singin’ electronic chants like

Zulu nation

Revelations

Destroy our nations (x6)

We are the Renegades of Funk, “on this musical mission to help the others listen / and groove from land to land singin’ electronic chants”.  Is our mission not musical?  Are we not here to groove and sing

And destroy our nations?

“Renegades of Funk” by Rage Against the Machine

Question:

What’s your funk?  How are you going to be a Jesus renegade?