Consciência...

Queridos leitores estamos aqui hoje  para passar para vocês  alguns itens que preparei: o primeiro: consciência.  O segundo:  dever.  o  terceiro :respeito se você tem consciência  do dever para com a sociedade consequentemente  vai ter o respeito de todos. Independente se faz parte da politica ou não. Adquirimos a consciência dês de cedo... quando ainda pequenos sabíamos  que se colocássemos o dedinho na tomada  iriamos levar um choque. Sabíamos também  que tínhamos que seguir algumas regras ;não podíamos bater no amiguinho, nem roubar o doce dele, tinha que obedecer papai e mamãe. Então já tínhamos consciência  do que era certo e errado.  então porque fica tão difícil agora depois de adulto  ter essa consciência. Tem pessoas que tem que reaprender. Tudo bem estamos aqui para ensinar e também para aprender ...quem tem algo a dizer pode se manifestar. Hoje vamos relembrar o que e o dever: Um cristão tem o dever de prestar atenção a palavra de Deus... porque quem tem ouvidos que ouça! E ao ouvir  tem que entender... e isso as vezes e difícil se não esta aberto para a verdade de Deus . O outro dever que já falamos aqui é o dever para com a sociedade  se está  na Prefeitura tem que ter uma base do que uma sociedade precisa e seguir uma meta  e  não  deixar nada para atrapalhar  sendo assim terá o respeito de todos.     Eliane Marques Pereira       elianemarquespereira@gmail.com       redes sociais: facebook    eliane marques  / twitter     @likapereira

Sermon on Luke

sermon on Luke 1, Mary the mother of Jesus, prophecy, and bad good news

 

A       Mary the mother of Jesus was a prophet.

Like Isaiah and Micah and Amos and Habakkuk.

Let’s dig into that for just a moment.

There in Luke is a great example of what we call an annunciation form—

basically, there are bits of scripture

that are very similar to each other,

things like the traditional form of a pastoral letter,

or love poems, or proverbs,

or the form of announcing a miraculous birth.

You remember Abraham and Sarah

and their miraculous, late-in-life birth, right?

Or Hannah mother of the prophet Samuel?

Their stories, when the angels or God visit

and tell them of their impending pregnancy,

generally follow a particular form.

Interestingly, while Mary’s story is indeed

a birth announcement and fits that form,

it actually fits a different form much more closely

—the prophetic call.

Like Moses, Gideon, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel before her,

Mary encounters an angel

who calls her to some sort of difficult action,

Mary objects to the call,

she is reassured and given a sign.

B       It turns out lots of early church writers saw this well before I did,

but it’s an image of Mary that we’ve lost over the years

—somehow we are left with a quiet, obedient Mother

 without the firebrand language of the Magnificat

she sings immediately afterwards.

She sings about God’s greatness and mercy

but she also sings this,

“He has shown strength with his arm;

he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,

and lifted up the lowly;

he has filled the hungry with good things,

and sent the rich away empty.”

It’s reminiscent of the song of Moses

and of basically all of the Hebrew prophets.

God is indeed great and merciful

AND ALSO is about justice and significant change to the status quo.

If you’re poor or afflicted, you’re gonna get fed.

Also, if you’re comfortable or in power,

you’re gonna get taken down a peg or two.

Prophets, you see, are a bit difficult.

They’re not domesticated.

They speak from their own oppressed group.

They speak the languages of challenge and hope.

Prophets, Mary included, see clearly what is,

the patterns of human behavior

and how we consistently screw things up.

And prophets, Mary included, see what can be,

the potential for beauty and compassion and grace.

Prophets, Mary included, speak to their own oppressed people

and say, “This is terrible but it won’t last.

If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

It’s good news, but it might not seem like it.

C       Pastor Larry and I used to argue this point.

He’d say, “Good news is always good news.”

Being contrary, I’d say, “No it’s not.”

The word “Gospel” literally means “good news”

and I agree that it is in fact always good.

BUT it doesn’t always feel like it.

That the rich—spoiler warning, that’s us

—that the rich will be sent away empty sounds like a threat.

That the proud—spoiler warning, that’s also us

—will be scattered sounds like bad news.

This is the Gospel which says you lose your life to find it

and that’s damned hard. That’s miserable. I don’t want that.

The leveling of the playing field that Mary sings about

and that Isaiah writes about and that all the prophets

and law-givers and poets of our scriptures talk about

—that leveling means we might all lose something

and we will all gain something even better.

Past that loss of wealth or status or security,

         past Good Friday, past the pain of pregnancy and childbirth

is the New Thing that God is making.

Mary says to us,

“This is terrible but it won’t last. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

“When a person in a marginalized group is voicing their concern over something you’ve done, it’s a natural reaction to jump and try to defend yourself. Taking the time to listen and truly understand goes an incredibly long way to promoting the understanding that is so desperately needed...”[1]

As we continue in this Advent season,

as we wait for something new with increasing agitation,

when every one of us is pregnant with possibility,

I invite you to listen to Mary’s story retold.

D      Mary stands in her home, kneading bread for dinner

and looking absently out the window.

She sees her little son Jesus running around with the neighbor kids

playing chase and she corrects herself

—not little son, not any more, was he ever little,

seemed pretty big when he came out,

where has the time gone.

Mary watches as her son stops to help up one of the smaller children

who’s fallen in the dust,

then takes off like a shot around the corner of another house

and the Roman soldier keeping an eye on their neighborhood.

Mary presses down hard with the heel of her hand into the dough,

flips it over, presses again,

the repetitive motion part frustration and part meditation.

Her thoughts drift gently from her son’s momentary kindness

to his tantrum this morning about breakfast

to his sleeping face last night

to that same face, softer, rounder, more covered with snot,

lo, these many years ago.

Mary remembers swaddling her baby boy in that warm, dirty stable

and weeping with joy and terror at this new thing

—why didn’t anyone say, I can’t believe how amazing he is,

Joseph can you even…, how could I love someone this much.

And she remembers the day of the angel with the same joy and terror

—how can you be so beautiful and so frightening,

of course I’m afraid, you want me to do what,

from…Hashem, but…a baby?

Mary’s hands press down hard into the dough,

flipping it over, pressing it again.

Her hands covered in flour and callouses ache

as she remembers the early days of pregnancy

—the painful joints, the exhaustion,

the fluttering in her belly which she kept thinking was the baby

but which was only gas.

And later when the fluttering took her breath away

and she grabbed for Joseph’s hand to feel the tiny elbow pressing up

against her belly.

Once she remembers that elbow coming up and her pushing it back,

tapping it like a message. And the elbow tapping back.

She smiles as she flips the dough over to let it rest

and wipes her hands on the towel at her waist.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jesus and his friends

run helter-skelter back into sight.

She begins to hum as she takes out a knife to cut up garlic.

It’s a song she’d all but forgotten, but in the quiet of a rare moment alone,

she remembers.

“My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my savior.”

Ah, yes, she thinks, and sighs aloud.

How that song had welled up in her that day in cousin Elizabeth’s house.

They were both pregnant,

commiserating about aches and pains

and husbands who were attentive but in the wrong ways.

They talked of swaddling and breastfeeding

and the births they’d been present for.

They talked about how the world wasn’t good enough for their sons,

hands resting protectively on round bellies.

They talked about their awe

that they could be making people within themselves.

They talked about their awe that Hashem had given them this chance,

that maybe their boys would be the ones to change things.

And Mary began to sing her gratitude.

It was an old tune but the words came from deep within her,

from the knot of baby growing in her belly and in her heart.

She sang about her own unworthiness to be a mother

and how overwhelmingly giddy it made her.

She sang about Hashem’s attentiveness to the people with no power

and about Hashem’s power to remake the world.

She sang about justice and regime change and transformation.

She sang about her sadness

and she sang about her hope that all would see the face of Hashem

and know the truth of their sin and blessedness.

In the end, a breathless silence

and then cousin Elizabeth applauded

and called her Prophetess

and they laughed.

Mary begins chopping the cloves of peeled garlic

piled up like coins in front of her and hums.

This child will change everything, she sings.

This child has already changed everything.Maria, a mãe de Jesus, era profeta.
Como Isaías, Miquéias, Amós e Habacuque.
Vamos investigar isso por um momento.
Lá, em Lucas, há um grande exemplo do que chamamos de forma de anúncio -
Basicamente, há pedaços de escritura
Que são muito semelhantes entre si,
Coisas como a forma tradicional de uma carta pastoral,
Ou poemas de amor, ou provérbios,
Ou a forma de anunciar um nascimento milagroso.
Você se lembra de Abraão e Sara
E seu milagre, nascimento tardio, certo?
Ou Hannah mãe do profeta Samuel?
Suas histórias, quando os anjos ou Deus visitam
E dizer-lhes de sua gravidez iminente,
Geralmente seguem uma forma particular.
Curiosamente, enquanto a história de Maria é de fato
Um anúncio de nascimento e se encaixa essa forma,
Ele realmente se encaixa uma forma diferente muito mais de perto
- o chamado profético.
Como Moisés, Gideão, Isaías, Jeremias e Ezequiel antes dela,
Maria encontra um anjo
Que a chama para algum tipo de ação difícil,
Maria se opõe à chamada,
Ela é reassegurada e dado um sinal.

B Acontece que muitos escritores da igreja primitiva viram isso bem antes de eu fazer,
Mas é uma imagem de Maria que perdemos ao longo dos anos
- de modo que ficamos com uma Mãe quieto e obediente
 Sem a linguagem firebrand do Magnificat
Ela canta imediatamente depois.
Ela canta sobre a grandeza e misericórdia de Deus
Mas ela também canta isso,
"Ele mostrou força com seu braço;
Ele dispersou os orgulhosos nos pensamentos de seus corações.
Ele tirou os poderosos de seus tronos,
E levantou os humildes;
Ele encheu os famintos de coisas boas,
E enviou os ricos vazios ".
É uma reminiscência da canção de Moisés
E de basicamente todos os profetas hebreus.
Deus é realmente grande e misericordioso
E também é sobre justiça e mudança significativa para o status quo.
Se você é pobre ou aflito, você vai se alimentar.
Além disso, se você estiver confortável ou no poder,
Você vai ser derrubado um peg ou dois.
Profetas, você vê, são um pouco difíceis.
Eles não são domesticados.
Eles falam de seu próprio grupo oprimido.
Eles falam as línguas do desafio e da esperança.
Profetas, Mary incluído, vêem claramente o que é,
Os padrões de comportamento humano
E como nós constantemente estragar as coisas.
E os profetas, incluindo Maria, vêem o que pode ser,
O potencial para a beleza, a compaixão e a graça.
Os profetas, incluindo Maria, falam aos seus próprios povos oprimidos
E dizer: "Isto é terrível, mas não vai durar.
Se não está bem, não é o fim. "
É uma boa notícia, mas pode não parecer.
C Larry e eu costumávamos argumentar sobre esse ponto.
Ele dizia: "Boa notícia é sempre uma boa notícia".
Sendo contrário, eu diria, "Não, não é."
A palavra "Evangelho" significa literalmente "boa notícia"
E eu concordo que é de fato sempre bom.
Mas nem sempre se sente como ele.
Que o alerta de spoiler rico, que somos nós
Que os ricos serão mandados embora sons vazios como uma ameaça.
Que o orgulhoso spoiler aviso, que também nós
- será espalhado soa como más notícias.
Este é o Evangelho que diz que você perde a sua vida para encontrá-lo
E isso é muito difícil. Isso é miserável. Năo quero isso.
O nivelamento do campo de jogo que Maria canta sobre
E que Isaías escreve sobre e que todos os profetas
E os legisladores e poetas de nossas escrituras falam sobre
Que o nivelamento significa que todos podemos perder algo
E todos nós ganharemos algo ainda melhor.
Passado essa perda de riqueza ou status ou segurança,
         Passado Sexta-Feira Santa, passado a dor da gravidez e parto
É a Coisa Nova que Deus está fazendo.
Maria nos diz:
"Isso é terrível, mas não vai durar. Se não está bem, não é o fim. "
"Quando uma pessoa em um grupo marginalizado está expressando sua preocupação com algo que você fez, é uma reação natural para saltar e tentar defender-se. Tomar o tempo para ouvir e entender verdadeiramente vai um caminho incrivelmente longo para promover a compreensão que é tão desesperadamente necessária ... "[1]

À medida que continuamos nesta época de Advento,
Enquanto esperamos algo novo com agitação crescente,
Quando cada um de nós está grávida de possibilidade,
Convido-vos a ouvir a história de Maria recontada.

D Mary está em sua casa, amassando pão para o jantar
E olhando distraidamente pela janela.
Ela vê seu filho pequeno Jesus correndo ao redor com as crianças vizinhas
Jogando perseguição e ela se corrige
- não pequeno filho, não mais, ele era sempre pequeno,
Parecia muito grande quando ele saiu,
Onde tem o tempo ido.
Mary observa enquanto seu filho para para ajudar uma das crianças menores
Que caiu na poeira,
Em seguida, decola como um tiro ao virar da esquina de outra casa
E o soldado romano mantendo um olho em seu bairro.
Mary pressiona com força o calcanhar da mão na massa,
Vira-lo, pressiona novamente,
A frustração parte movimento repetitivo e parte meditação.
Seus pensamentos fluem suavemente da bondade momentânea de seu filho
A sua birra esta manhã sobre o café da manhã
Para o seu rosto dormindo ontem à noite
Para aquele mesmo rosto, mais macio, mais redondo, mais coberto de mocos,
Lo, estes há muitos anos.
Mary lembra-se swaddling seu bebê naquela quente, sujo st
Google Tradutor para empresas:Google Toolkit de tradução para appsTradutor d

Good Frriday

Good Friday meditation on Psalm 31 and bodies

Let’s talk about sex offenders for a moment.

If we can’t talk about them on Good Friday

when Jesus gave up his body for the sins of the world

—including not just we God’s faithful people

but also all the people we look down on or are disgusted by

—when can we?

I’ve been in a pastoral relationship

with someone on the Sex Offender Registry for several years now.

And I’ve been pondering for most of that time

why there are such extreme reactions to this person’s offense.

Over and above other kinds of offenses, that is

—it’s a different reaction than if you disclosed to me

that you’d stolen a watch

or even that you’d murdered someone.

It’s a powerful, visceral, angry reaction

which leads not only to creating the Registry in the first place

but also to everyday folks regularly checking out that Registry

for people in their neighborhood.

Because…why?

Registered sex offenders are the second least likely to reoffend…just behind murderers.

Why do we do this to ourselves? And to them?

It’s something to do with our essence, our being, our bodies.

A sex offense is…intimate and personal,

and an offense against our bodies

is somehow an offense against more than our bodies.

It’s like when you’re badly hurt with a broken leg, say,

or when you’re throwing up everything you ever ate,

the world condenses to this one primal, vulnerable space

where your body is.

All your being is concentrated on the misery of your body.

But somehow a sex offense magnifies that feeling.

Regardless of what the offense was

—and believe me, there is a wide spectrum

represented on the Registry—

knowing that a hurt was sexual in nature

brings up bone-deep revulsion

which seems to be the only truth.

To be clear, yes to all those feelings.

Violation of the body is deeply painful and emotional

and no one who perpetrates such violation should be given a pass.

If you’ve experienced such hurt, please tell someone

—don’t suffer alone.

It turns out, the violence of those encounters

leaves its scars on the perpetrators as well.

This person whom I know has struggled and been to jail

and to all the therapy and has transformed themself

in ways I frankly envy.

Even after all that, they fear reoffending

and even more the emptiness that comes

when a new friend finds them on the Registry.

Which happens all the time.

This person is outcast from social media, from employment,

and from more than one or two long-term friendships.

Perhaps you might justifiably say, “good.”

And perhaps you might also notice

the similarity between this person

and the people Jesus spent much of his time with.

Not because they were paragons of virtue

but because they were imprisoned by something

and wanted to be set free.

*       *       *

Let’s talk about close male friendships for a moment.

There was a time, as recently as the first World War,

when men who were friends

might be seen holding hands or hugging in public,

slinging their arms around each others waists, cuddling of a sort.

If you don’t believe me, just Google “male affection photo”

for an article called “Bosom Buddies.”

Human beings need touch—you know the studies

about babies who die because they’re not touched.

But more than that, we all need loving, gentle, consistent touch

for brain development and for spiritual development.

Our children are built for it,

demanding cuddling at wonderful and inopportune times.

But in the last 50 years, such touch between adult males has become rare.

Some folks wonder if societal homophobia

has robbed us of close male friendships.

My husband tells me his high school students

can’t even express the bare minimum of verbal friendship

without someone suggesting they might be gay.

Could we as a people be so concerned over the possibility of a come-on

that we’ve lost something precious?

“Boys imitate what they see.

If what they see is emotional distance, guardedness, and coldness

between men they will grow up to imitate that behavior…

What do boys learn when they do not see men

with close friendships, where there are no visible models

of intimacy in a man’s life beyond his spouse?”[1]


Women may be more able to show affection,

yet we participate in a culture of homophobia and touch-me-not.

We are made in the image of God and we are built for physical intimacy.

Perhaps you might justifiably say,

“But it can go so wrong so easily, even without assault.”

And perhaps you might also note that Jesus spent the Last Supper

reclining beside the beloved disciple John

whom our Celtic brothers and sisters say was so close

he heard the heartbeat of God.

No matter how enlightened we are,

we are imprisoned by our fear of closeness and we need to be set free.

*       *       *

Let’s talk about being unworthy for a moment.

I know students at UC who can’t fathom

that anyone would respect or love them.

They may seem happy or calm on the surface,

but it’s a cardboard cutout of themselves.

I know folks at UC who fill their days and nights with work

because they can’t trust themselves or others

to have their back and they fear failure.

I know friends who know deep in their hearts

that they’d never really be welcome in church

because they haven’t attended in years

or because they think God hates what they do with their bodies

or because they’re not good enough.

I know people who, because of their gender identity or homelessness

feel invisible.

And when they hear that God loves them,

they scoff or cry or get angry because how could God possibly love them. It’s patently ridiculous.

Peter at the Last Supper shows us a silly version

of this deeply-held self-revulsion.

When Jesus arrives at Peter’s feet, Peter says,

“wait, what? You can’t wash my feet! They’re gross.

And you’re…you know…God or something.”

And Jesus patiently explains it again and Peter says,

“Oh, right, I’m so filthy, I need you to wash my whole self!”

We don’t wash the feet of our dinner guests anymore.

But my friends Chris and Kevin once did something similar for me.

After my entire family had been sick simultaneously

with a stomach bug for several days,

my friends came to our house and cleaned up.

While we were still weak,

they swept and mopped and did dishes

and sanitized counters and doorknobs.

They didn’t hesitate to touch

where our disease had made things unclean.

How could I have been worthy of such a gift?

Perhaps you might justifiably say, “oh man, that’s me. I’m just the worst.”

And perhaps you might also recall

just how many times our scriptures record

the consistent and overwhelming love of God

for some really filthy people.

All of us are imprisoned by sin and we need to be set free.

*       *       *

Now, let’s talk about Jesus’ body.

We say that he was God made human

and centuries of theologians have written

about how he was REALLY HUMAN.

It’s not that he just looked like us but was actually smoke and mirrors.

He didn’t have a glowing God center with a crunchy human shell.

He was really, really, physically, emotionally a person.

Jesus is God becoming a vulnerable, squalling, pooing baby

and a vulnerable, squalling, pooing adult

—that’s his whole deal.

That’s the whole point.

Our God who created the universe,

who made this world in all its amazing variety,

who made us—

these complex, thinking bodies charging through space—

our God didn’t just watch from afar,

munching popcorn like we’re some kind of soap opera.

God got themselves a body and ate hummus

and snuggled with Mary and Joseph

and in the teen years refused to be touched

and walked the dirty roads of Jerusalem

and touched disgusting sick people

and touched unworthy prostitutes and office workers

and touched cruel sinners

and then died in extreme pain in front of his earthly parents,

watching them sob.

And then—spoiler warning—came back to life for real.

It’s all about God’s body.

Jesus body standing in for all the bodies in the world.

All of them.

Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection

is about our bodies being strong and resilient

and vulnerable and imprisoned and…worthy of being set free. And it’s about God loving us more than enough to do it.

That freedom is scary.

It’s a painful and fascinating transition.

But as the Psalmist says in the 31^st Psalm,

“Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord.”Vamos falar sobre criminosos sexuais por um momento.
Se não podemos falar de prepará-los na sexta-feira
Quando Jesus deu o Seu corpo para os pecados do mundo
-incluindo nós não apenas fiel povo de Deus
Também, mas todas as pessoas que olhar para baixo sobre ou estão revoltados com
-Quando podemos?
Eu estive em um ministério relacionamento
Com alguém no Offender Registry Sexo há vários anos.
E eu estive pensando por mais do mesmo That Time
por isso que existem Tais reações extremas a ofensa dessa pessoa.
Para além de outros tipos de infracções, O Que É
-é uma reação diferente do que se você me revelou
Que você tinha roubado um relógio
ou mesmo que você tinha assassinado alguém.
É uma poderosa reação, visceral, raiva
O que leva não só para criar o Registro, em primeiro lugar
Também para pessoas comuns, mas regularmente verificando que Registry
para as pessoas em sua vizinhança.
Porque ... por quê?
criminosos sexuais registrados são o segundo reincidir ... menos provável logo atrás assassinos.
Por que fazemos a nós mesmos ESTA? E a eles?
É algo a ver com a nossa essência, nosso ser, o nosso corpo.
A ofensa sexual é ... íntimo e pessoal
e uma ofensa contra nossos corpos
é de alguma forma uma ofensa contra mais de nossos corpos.
É como se você está gravemente ferido quando com uma perna quebrada, digamos,
ou quando você está vomitando tudo o que você comeu,
o mundo condensar a este espaço primal, vulnerável
Onde está o seu corpo.
Todo o seu ser está concentrado na miséria de seu corpo.
Mas de alguma forma uma ofensa sexual amplia esse sentimento.
Independentemente do que o crime foi
-e acredite em mim, há um amplo espectro
Representado no Registry-
Sabendo que ferem era de natureza sexual
Traz repulsa osso-fundo
Que parece ser a única verdade.
Para ser claro, sim a todos aqueles sentimentos.
Violação do corpo é profundamente dolorosa e emocional
e ninguém que comete tal violação deve ser dada a passar.
Se você já experimentou Tal ferido, por favor, dizer a alguém
-não sofrer sozinho.
Acontece que, a violência daqueles encontros
Suas folhas cicatrizes na perpetradores também.
Essa pessoa que eu conheço e tenho lutado Já esteve em Jail
e a toda a terapia e transformaram ocupariam
de maneiras que eu invejo francamente.
Mesmo depois de tudo isso, eles temem reincidência
e ainda mais o vazio que você come
Quando um novo amigo encontra-los no Registro.
Que acontece o tempo todo.
Esta pessoa é pária da mídia social, de emprego,
e de mais de uma ou duas amizades de longo prazo.
Talvez você possa justificadamente dizer, "bom".
E talvez você também notar
Entre a semelhança Esta Pessoa
e as pessoas de Jesus passou a maior parte de seu tempo com.
Não porque eles eram modelos de virtude
Mas porque eles foram presos por algo
e queria ser livre, em setembro.
* * *