We cannot, by our own devices, eliminate violence or evil...

I do not think that legislative acts can rid the world of violence. Nor do I consider it possible to guarantee that we will never experience another mass shooting of innocent people. Ultimately, we need and depend on transformation, which we cannot accomplish by our own devices. I do not long for a world void of firearms. Those who purchase firearms for sporting activities, hunting, and protection have rights protected by our constitution. In 1966, I joined our high school debate team. One of our assigned issues was gun control. For the next four years I argued both for and against gun control. Most of the arguments have not changed. Yet, I join those who consider regulation of firearms and munitions long overdue and who call for an intense, honest, and inclusive discussion of the issues.

Three months ago Nancy and I adopted a dog through Southwest Ohio Doberman Rescue. We began the process by completing several pages of paperwork, including considerable personal information. After that initial screening, two people came to our home to assess our character and the place where an adopted dog would live. Then the agency consulted our references. Only then did we receive permission to visit the shelter. After that went well, they allowed us to see the dogs and select one. Only after another visit and additional pages of paperwork did Blake come home to live with us. It has been a while since I purchased a firearm, but friends assure me that I could come home with a handgun, shotgun, or rifle much more easily. Surely the time is long overdue for an intense, honest, and inclusive discussion of who should have the right to own a firearm.

I never have shot clay pigeons, but I hunted with my dad years ago and would be open to that with our children and/or their spouses. I enjoy the out-of-doors and the taste of fresh game. I hunted with a simple shotgun or rifle. Many today prefer semiautomatic weapons that resemble those used by the military. When I hunted, I could discharge my weapon three or seven times before reloading. Today's preferred firearms accept clips that allow the rapid discharge of twenty or thirty rounds before reloading. One "novelty" clip holds one hundred rounds. Do ordinary citizens need such powerful weapons and the capacity to fire that often before rearming?

I shot a wolf to protect a flock of sheep, lived in a place fifteen to twenty minutes from the closest law enforcement office, and worked the midnight shift in a convenience store near the edge of town. Some citizens have legitimate need for different and more powerful weapons. A person who shoots for sport may enjoy a weapon that can discharge often without pausing. Exceptions will be needed and it may be best to have some munitions available and allowed only in certain places. Yet, surely the time is long overdue for an intense, honest, and inclusive discussion of what firearms and munitions should be available for sale to the public.

Our denomination's 219th General Assembly (2010) adopted a resolution that called us to advocate to:

a. limit legal personal gun acquisition to one handgun a month;

b. require licensing, registration, and waiting periods to allow comprehensive background checks, and cooling-off periods, for all guns sold;

c. close the "gun show loophole" by requiring background checks for all gunbuyers;

d. ban semiautomatic assault weapons, armor piercing handgun ammunition, and .50 caliber sniper rifles;

e. advocate for new technologies to aid law-enforcement agencies to trace crimeguns and promote public safety;

f. raise the age for handgun ownership to the age of twenty-one; and

g. eliminate the Tiahrt Amendment to annual appropriations for the Federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives (ATF) that impedes local law enforcement agencies in their use of gun traces and requires the Justice Department to destroy within two hours the record of a buyer.

We could begin the discussion there.

I have refrained intentionally from quoting scripture because people who respect scripture can and do disagree on issues related to gun control. I'll simply note that I consider my position consistent with the gospel and the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus. We cannot, by our own devices, eliminate violence or evil. We can make ourselves more available for transformation. May we so do.

           

Advent Blessings,

LP

Welcoming the fullness of Jesus' coming...

"Come, thou long expected Jesus." "Jesus comes with clouds descending." "O come, O come, Emmanuel." "Prepare the way, O Zion, your Christ is drawing near." Christians sing phrases like those throughout Advent. Sermons and liturgies echo words of expectation of the coming of Jesus. Many ignore the words and focus on the preparations and festivities. What about the rest of us? What do we think and mean when we sing those words?

Count me among the followers of Jesus who do not anticipate this year or any year the return of Jesus on a cloud, the replacement of this earth or cosmos with a new one, and/or the cataclysmic end of all that is to inaugurate a new beginning. Whatever transpires between now and 7.6 billion years from now when our sun explodes and incinerates this planet, I do not anticipate that kind of a "second coming" of Jesus. That does not mean that I do not believe and anticipate when I sing, "O come, O come, Emmanuel." I believe Jesus comes and long for the fullness of his coming.

Jesus comes when someone feels drawn into a community of people baptized into his life and ministry and accepts his embrace and theirs. Jesus comes when someone rejects the darkness of ways of life that lead only to brokenness and chooses to follow the demanding but light-filled paths that lead to wholeness. Jesus comes when a weary soul crosses the final threshold certain that the eternal embrace of the Creator and not an empty void awaits. Jesus comes when Palestinians and Israelis take steps toward a future that makes room for each other and brings them and all closer to shalom/salaam. Jesus comes when those with more than enough share with those who have too little, not because they feel sorry for them or because they fear eternal punishment, but because we all come from, return to, and live in the same presence.

That does not mean that everything depends on us. I believe and have seen and experienced something to the contrary. When we participate in Jesus' life, ministry, death, and resurrection, we encounter a presence and reality not our own. On the way to a "good deed," goodness itself sometimes greets us. We did not bring it or create it; yet we bask in it. Sometimes that same presence and reality find us as we seek to follow a different lord. Light shines on us as we seek darkness and something true within us awakes. Despite all the evil of which we are capable, I believe and have experienced that we are drawn into deeper, more meaningful, more compassionate, and more loving relationships. Jesus comes as we step toward that and Jesus comes to draw us into that.

We cannot predict or control when Jesus comes; yet, he comes every Christmas Eve. Year after year he has come into the sanctuary in the moments immediately following the candlelight singing of "Silent Night." Darkness surrounds us, but all are bathed in light. We all bear separation within, but feel bound to each other. Wars and rumors of war abound, but in those moments peace reigns and rules. Our staff works hard to prepare for that moment, but we do not create it. Yet, it comes. Jesus comes. Jesus comes, and although it is not the fullness of his coming, in that moment I can receive no more. With other travelers, I accept the gift and recommit to continue the journey with renewed awareness and thanksgiving that I do not travel alone. Even so, Jesus, come.

Advent Blessings,

LP

The effectiveness of lowered lights, quieter spaces and scents

As I mentioned last week, during a recent study leave Nancy and I experienced some different forms of contemporary worship and discussed them with those who planned and led the services. Discussions of alternative worship often focus on a more casual atmosphere and a different style of music. Our conversations touched those topics, but focused on providing more sensory experiences and drawing on often overlooked parts of our heritage. The services we experienced sought to address spiritual hungers not always fed in typical forms of worship, whether traditional or more modern.

Other than Christmas Eve and Holy Week services, most worship settings bathe the congregation and/or the leaders in light. The services in which we participated featured soft lighting throughout the worship space and made use of many candles. Even the musicians and message givers stood in relatively dim light. That invited us to focus on the words and to contemplate. Sound and the presence of God often seemed to emerge from dimness, which I considered a powerful visual metaphor. Yes, Luke says Paul was struck by a blinding light and the Exodus narrative says that God led the people by a pillar of fire; but Abraham heard his call beneath a canopy of evening stars and Psalm 18 describes God with a covering of darkness. Settings with dimmer light call us to choose where to focus, a beneficial spiritual practice in a world of ceaseless distractions.

The services also offered more relative silence. Perhaps because of the dimmer light, the time taken between segments of the service did not feel uncomfortable. Even the songs we sang seemed to have more space between the words. The author of Psalm 131 describes entering God's presence as "I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother." In times of sustained silence, we learn not to rush to fill what we perceive to be a void. With less sounds for our outer ears to hear, we can listen with our inner ear.

During the prayers of the people, the worship spaces offered a variety of places where worshippers could go to meditate. Some had only candles, some featured icons or artwork, and some had a painted or printed word or phrase to ponder. I enjoyed the time to reflect and unexpectedly enjoyed the journey from prayer center to prayer center. Quiet glances connected worshippers. A sense of anticipation accompanied the journey, making the movement itself a prayer, something akin to what Celtic Christians called peregrination. Those who led these prayers suggested praises and intercessions, but did not attempt to speak for us, which invited spontaneity into our guided prayers.

The aroma of candles and incense filled the room. One leader censed the communion table and another anointed with chrism the foreheads of those who sought that symbol of prayer and God's presence. Paul's description of the faithful as "the aroma of Christ" (2 Corinthians 2:15) came to mind, as did times when candle wax, fresh fruit, and other scents pointed to the presence of God during worship.  

Not everything we experienced would work in one of our Sunday morning services; nor should it. All that happened reawakened my desire to help all of us use all of our senses to receive the gifts of God and offer ourselves to God. Thanks for the study leave, MWPC.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Where do I fit?

During a recent study leave, Nancy and I experienced some different forms of contemporary worship and discussed them with those who planned and led the services. The services included significant time for contemplation. I did not intend to compose a meditation during those times, but the following thoughts found their way into the small notepad I usually have with me. I hope they stimulate reflections in you as well. The opening sentence followed a meditation by a young pastor, who has much to offer and ample room to grow homiletically.

How curious that a stumbling, stammering, obviously inexperienced, and unfortunately inarticulate preacher, who wandered through the four lectionary readings and two others just for the mystery of it, came to the very question that has hounded me for months: "Where do I fit?" She offered no answer. Nor can I. Beneath her words, however, I heard or sensed a call, perhaps a command, to trust. Trust what? Trust that calls or commands exist and find their way to us? Trust that glimpses of life speak more truly and profoundly than death? Trust that death itself yields because, for reasons we may never fathom, creation (and hence life) is? Trust that relationships matter, even though those into which we are drawn and we ourselves fail or fade?

Where do I fit? I once claimed with conviction that I knew. Now I whisper and sometimes hurl the query into depths of echoless silence. Perhaps for now that is precisely where I fit until/unless some new call/command comes. Trust will/does suffice.

What/who do I trust? I trust that relationships matter and always have the capacity to matter for good. I trust that we exist only in relationship and that we remain in relationship even when we feel alone and/or refuse to acknowledge the connections that provide and sustain our lives. I trust that God exists in relationship, a relationship best described as perichoresis, which literally means "dance around" and points to the indwelling and intersecting realities that we experience and know as God. Because all that is exists in relationship, I trust that despite our temporality and other frailties we matter and I matter. Because all that is exists in relationship, I trust that we and I stand accountable to the author of life for the gift of life.

Where do I fit? We/I fit with the hungry, for every hunger illustrates our dependence on others, a dependence both necessary and wonderful. We/I fit with the thirsty, for each drink comes from something other. We/I fit with those who may not know they have need and with those who acknowledge their deep, abiding, grace-filled, and grace-seeking need. How curiously we are led, even, when necessary, in spite of ourselves, to the grace and embrace of relationship, which is life.

Thanks for your part of the relationships, MWPC. I do not always claim to know where our relationships will take us, but I resolutely believe that we are led and that we follow most faithfully together.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Preparing for Thanksgiving

(Please note: No Beacon Lite the week of Thanksgiving.)

 

Near the end of The Temple, seventeenth century poet and priest George Herbert begins a poem entitled "Gratefulnesse" with these lines:

Thou that hast giv'n so much to me,

Give one thing more, a gratefull heart.

Herbert then acknowledges that, despite God's constant outpourings of grace, he perpetually knocks at God's door asking for more. He closes his poem confessing that his petitions will not be silenced:

Till I a thankfull heart obtain

                                      Of thee:

Not thankfull, when it pleaseth me;

As if thy blessings had spare dayes;

But such a heart, whose pulse may be

                                      Thy praise.

           

"Not thankfull, when it pleaseth me." What refreshing honesty. When we limit our thanksgiving to pleasures, we reduce our capacity to love. Perhaps the clearest illustration of that comes when we mourn the death of someone we love. If we offer God only tears, we denigrate the blessings we have received from our loved one and at least temporarily ignore the many ways that saint remains a part of us. So we gather to offer thanksgiving for that person's life not because we find the moment pleasant, but because anything less would be wrong.

Gratefulness, like greed, is more than a characteristic. It is a way of life. The most grateful people I have known would never make it onto a Fortune 500 list of influential people. Yet, their daily lives abounded with joy and thanksgiving. Those who have less often have profound awareness of what they have. Awareness of their blessings exceeds longing to acquire more. That reflects not slothfulness, but rather a choice to celebrate life as a gift worth celebrating, even when the celebration requires courage.

Too many prayers of gratitude sound like lists of personal achievements offered to conceal profound sadness. Few enter sadness, ingratitude, or loneliness more deeply than those who claim to have earned all or most of what is most important to them. Thanksgiving that flows only from achievement reaches no farther than one candle can shine.

As we prepare for Thanksgiving next week, please recall not only the blessings of sun-filled days of pleasure, but also those that came and will come in more troubled times. Such reflections can help us to recall how companionship found us when we thought we were alone and how goodness and mercy followed us even when our path darkened. Such reflections can also make us more aware of and grateful for present pleasures. Elizabeth Barrett Browning more eloquently offers similar advice in this prayer/poem:

  I praise Thee while my days go on;

                        I love Thee while my days go on;

                        Through dark and dirty, through fire and frost,

                        With emptied arms and treasures lost,

                        I thank Thee while my days go on.

Our days go on, and in them we have creation, each other, and God. Blessings have no "spare dayes." May we choose daily to have and seek "a gratefull heart" that beats with praise to God.

           

Happy Thanksgiving, a week early!

LP

More than "what's in it for me?"

The November issue of Presbyterians Today focused on church leadership, especially the qualities needed in the leaders who will guide the church in the future. Although I found most of the suggestions helpful, I felt that the articles too often suggested bending to cultural trends without appropriately challenging them. As good news the gospel offers a relevant word to the particular people and situation addressed. That relevance often challenges more than it comforts.

One article quoted these thoughts of a homiletics professor: "Today's culture promotes independence and nonconformity and celebrates a world full of options. ... In a 24/7 world of endless opportunities, obligations, and information, many adults exercise an exacting ... formula for time management based on immediate and tangible rewards and will no longer dedicate an hour on Sunday morning to something that doesn't help them make sense of the other 167 hours of the week." If I understand the point, it troubles me.

Some folks will not find their way into a faith community through Sunday worship or worship at any time. That has always held true and may hold truer now for younger folks who, like their grandparents, place a premium on doing something to help someone. I also agree that worship wastes precious time when it lacks connection with the world in which those present live. I emphatically reject, however, focus on "immediate and tangible rewards," especially rewards. The dictionary near my desk defines a reward as "something given or done in return; especially a gift, prize, or recompense for merit, service, or achievement." We stand on dangerously shallow theological ground when we declare, "I've been good and shown up for worship, God; so give me something." We sometimes receive blessings from a worship service (or any service in Jesus' name) simply by showing up. Showers of grace fall indiscriminately and we always receive more than we give. Yet, liturgy remains literally and practically "the work of the people." God moves most powerfully in those who come to do that work, who seek to participate and offer themselves to God.

Most of us enjoy music, but it speaks most powerfully to the choristers and other musicians who spend hours in preparation and show up intending to sing and play to the glory of God. We've all endured insipid and irrelevant sermons from unprepared preachers. Yet, even the worst sermon often yields to the Living Word when we listen intentionally for something worth pondering. When we come to worship expecting to receive a reward without making a commitment, we likely will return home hungry, having blinded ourselves and others from the blessings available.

Unless we are willing to ask a question larger than, "What's in it for me?" and to seek a greater good than personal satisfaction, we will lead lives with abundant contacts but scarce and shallow relationships, lives filled with activities but void of meaning, lives shaped by many choices but lacking a solid core of conviction. I enjoy reading the Sunday New York Times, but need to seek, encounter, and receive a reality, a presence, a God who offers light in darkness, security amidst wars and violence, comfort in illness and death, and a peace that passes understanding amidst doubts and perplexities. Those blessings never come as a reward. They flow from a relationship, and relationships require time, effort, commitment, and much more than merely showing up.

We are magnificent creatures, but life and worship are not all about us. If they are, we are the most self-deceived and the most to be pitied of all. Our true identity requires effort to uncover and receive, and offers far more worth than self-centered satisfaction ever can yield.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Happy All Saints Day 2012

This Sunday we will observe All Saints Sunday. The saints who went before us laid the foundation on which we stand by responding to God's call and allowing God to work in and through them. Each All Saints Day we can honor all the saints by remembering and thanking God for a particular saint who blessed and guided us.

This year I remember and thank God for my mother. I do not recall a single theological conversation with my mother. Although intelligent, she did not attend school after the third grade and humbly avoided conversations for which she felt unqualified. Shame on me for failing to invite those chats. Nor did she encourage me to enter ordained ministry, but she supported my decision. Her blessings came in her actions.

On Sunday morning mother and I went to church. Always. Dad was not antagonistic toward this, but did not participate. On a Sunday morning a week after I received my driver's permit, we awakened to a heavy blanket of snow atop a thin sheet of ice. Mother did not drive in the snow and dad was at work, so she handed me the keys. Along the way I hit a slick spot where the road tilted down and away from center. Our car slowly slid sideways and gently collided with a telephone pole. Bracing for what would come next, I glanced in the rear view mirror in time to watch a police cruiser slide into us with greater velocity and significantly damage the bumper, tail lights, and trunk of our Impala. Mother took all of this in stride and seemed oddly calm. As the police officer slowly completed his accident report, however, she looked at her watch, demanded his attention, and said, "Do we have to do this now? We need to get to church!" We soon left the scene and made it in time for worship. Mother taught me the importance of worship.

For thirty consecutive years, mother taught the four year old Sunday School Class. I've always admired her longevity, but now that I know a little more about four year olds, I admire even more her sheer grit. When mother committed herself, she did so absolutely. God alone knows how many people remember the Bible stories and moral lessons she taught them. She completed more "sermons" than I'll ever imagine.

I became an avid reader at an early age. When I found worship tedious, mother allowed me to read the book I brought with me. That probably insulted some. One woman clearly took issue and asked with an unfriendly tone, "Are you aware than your son was reading during the service?" Mother replied, "He sings the hymns, stays quiet during prayer, and takes communion. I think that's enough." She considered participating with the community more important than pretending to understand all that transpired.

When her grandchildren came along, mother wished that they lived closer to her, but visited often and made certain that her stay included Sunday, which included worship. She sat proudly with her granddaughters, helped them to use the hymnal, had activities to engage them when they grew restless, and helped God speak to them through the community and her love.

Mother did not debate theology with me, but her persistent practice of her faith has played a part in every ministry to which God has called me. Now that she has joined that great cloud of witnesses surrounding us, sharing her story and trying to be for others what she was for me are the best ways to thank her and give thanks for her.

Happy All Saints Day,

LP

Legacies - catching them and more (by Amy Wyatt)

LP is on study leave.

Amy Wyatt offered this reflection during the devotional period at the start of our September 2012 Session meeting. We thank her for allowing us to share this with our Beacon Lite readers.

I'm not sure how common or uncommon my faith journey has been. I do not feel as though I really grew up in the church. I was baptized, confirmed, and married in a church, and my parents were consistently members of one church or another, mostly Presbyterian or Congregational, but we moved several times while I was growing up, and I honestly have very few memories of actually going to church as a child. As I got older, though, through my high school and college years, I was drawn back, largely because of the stories. I love words. My favorite part of worship is the sermon. I look forward to hearing the scripture and understanding its significance in the time in which it was written and its relevance today. So over the years, I have returned week after week and always to churches in which I found a message that challenged me intellectually and spiritually. I think that is probably true for many of us.

I am fairly certain that I am not unusual either in that my faith has wavered over the years. I continuously question many elements of our belief system and wonder often about God's plan for me. And often I find my footing again in my family and, oddly enough, in baseball. Allow me to explain.

           

I come from a long line of baseball enthusiasts on both sides of my family, but it is mostly my father who is responsible for encouraging a love of baseball in my sisters and me. Growing up in New Jersey in the 1950's, my father was a Brooklyn Dodgers fan until the team moved to LA. Then, he became a Mets fan since the alternative was becoming a Yankees fan, which just wasn't going to happen. My father was a successful high school athlete who loved watching sports when he no longer played himself. He taught my sisters and me to throw a football, to shoot a basketball, and to field and hit baseballs. My sisters and I all took to baseball, and later softball, more naturally than to other sports. It was just part of what our family did. But, since a true game of baseball requires far more people than we had in our household, we became devoted players of the game of catch instead.

In an article that appeared in TIME magazine in 1998, Roger Rosenblatt wrote about the game of catch, "They do not call it a game of throw, though throwing is half the equation. The name of the game puts the burden on the one who receives, but there really is no game to it. Nobody wins or loses. You drop the ball; you pick it up."

My father gave me a copy of this Rosenblatt column as he did so many articles and newspaper clippings. He would leave them on my dresser for me to find the next time I came home for a visit. There would be a post-it note attached with some sentence fragment scrawled in his minute cursive: "FYI, Amy" or "read this and thought you'd like it. Dad." I no longer have the post-it with his handwriting, but I remembered this article. It goes on to talk about the game of catch as a metaphor for communication within families. Rosenblatt continues, "A game of catch is an essential gesture of parenthood too, I believe, when families are working well. Everyone tosses to be understood. The best part of the game is the silence." My father was a brilliant and eloquent businessman who, oddly enough, often struggled to find the right words to say to his children. I did not understand that until I had my own children and was struck by the inadequacy of language to express what I was feeling toward them. But I see now that there were so many ways he sought to reach me. One was by leaving me articles on my dresser so often: his way of telling me that he knew me well enough to know what would interest me and that he thought of me when I was away. Another way he sought to reach me was through games of catch. He very rarely made it to the actual softball games we played because of his work schedule, but we could always play catch on the weekends. Back then I thought it was just about improving my strength and motion. Now I think it was about something more-a way to reach out and break the silence without actually breaking the silence.

My father passed away five years ago after a two-year battle with a brain tumor. It has been a while since he and I played a game of catch. In the years during which he was sick, my family prayed a lot and asked for more prayers from members of our congregations and friends and family. I will always remember and cherish the support we received from my congregation in Vermont and my parents' congregation in Connecticut. In the years immediately following his death, I struggled considerably with my faith. My father's death was my first experience with death. At that point, I still had four living grandparents. I had been confident that, once he passed away, he would go to heaven and no longer be in pain and that I would always have this sense that he was still with me, just way up there. My struggle came when, after his death, I felt so profoundly alone. I had thought that I would feel his presence still with me, but I didn't. And I didn't know how to deal with that. I questioned whether there really is anything after life. Then I felt guilty for doubting.

But, as I said before, I often find my footing again in my family and in baseball. My sons are also devoted players of the game of catch. And so, it was one spring afternoon when I was playing catch with Bruce in the front yard that my faith was partially renewed. The ball flew back and forth between the two of us. His strength has already surpassed mine, but we both enjoy snagging the ball deep in the pocket to get the full "thwack thwack" of the ball on the leather echoing in the street. Bruce asked me to throw it several yards away from where he was standing so that he could run and catch the ball, as he would in a real game. So I did. Bruce ran up the slight hill in our yard, dove to catch the ball, and fluidly somersaulted and popped back to his feet in one motion. For a baseball fan and a proud mom, it was a moment of beauty. But it was also a God moment. I don't know what else to call those moments that take your breath away and make you shiver. It was really the first time since my father had passed away that I felt his presence. I don't mean to imply that I think his spirit was here in Cincinnati with us. But there was something timeless and so closely connected to my father there that I had to stop playing for a minute.

I find it sad that my sons will never play catch with my dad. I wish they could. But in a way they do and always have. Their grandfather is part of every day of their lives because they have little bits of him in them. And, as I realized that day watching Bruce catch that ball, my father is always with me and within me. I am, of course, a product of my parents' lives, and my boys are, in turn, a product of my life. In the traditions Colby and I pass down to Bruce and Eli, we keep the lives of our parents and grandparents alive and present. I hope in the legacy that we pass down, my boys see that their lives can be about devotion to something bigger than themselves, bigger than the present, about the timeless. I hope they see that devotion in the work of this church, in the professions their parents have chosen, and in the friendships we have been blessed with. I hope they hear that devotion in the words we say to them and sense it in the gestures we make when we cannot find the words. I hope they find it in the small things too - in a magazine article left on the dresser, in a game of catch. Because sometimes the small things end up being the big things, the moments where God silently steps in and pulls us back.

I hope that they find what I believe I found that afternoon in the yard - hope. While I still doubt and wonder and question, I also hope that I am not alone, that every time I throw, someone somewhere will catch.

"Pay to play" in church?

A few weeks ago I stumbled onto a report on tensions between the Catholic Bishops' Conference in Germany and one of Germany's highest courts. The story begins in the nineteenth century when Germany, like many European nations, abolished the official state church and decided to collect taxes from members of established churches and return that income to the religious bodies. That provides regular income for churches without conducting a stewardship campaign. Folks who regularly guide our stewardship campaigns may like the sound of that; but read on.

The present German church tax is 8-9% of annual income. [Stewardship campaign leaders are smiling again.] To avoid paying that tax many people have formally quit the church. Some, however, still show up for church services. A high court recently affirmed the right of Christians to leave the church to avoid paying the tax. The Catholic bishops responded with an edict declaring that any member who refuses to pay the church tax will not be permitted to receive Holy Communion, to make confession, to serve as a godparent, to hold an office in the church, or, without repentance, to receive a Christian burial.

I sympathize with the bishops, but will leave this matter to the folks in Germany. Reading about it reinforced my conviction that church leaders must help our members to have a truly biblical and theological understanding of stewardship.

During our invitation to Holy Communion, we do not question whether those present have their financial pledges up to date. On the weeks before we celebrate the Lord's Supper, however, we do announce that we will come to table and we ask the faithful to prepare to keep the feast. Our preparations do not make communion holy, but they help us to receive the gifts of God with gratitude and wonder. That preparation, with or without a financial contribution, is an act of stewardship.

We have guidelines for who may present a child for Baptism and we require folks presenting a child to receive instruction on the sacrament from a Teaching Elder. That instruction does not guarantee that the child will confirm the baptism one day. Nor does it exhaust the baptismal responsibilities of the congregation, the session, or those presenting the child. Nor is it a sine qua non for the activity of the Holy Spirit in Baptism. Yet, the instruction and other preparations help us to perceive God's presence in the sacrament. With or without a financial contribution, that preparation is a matter of stewardship.

Stewardship includes finances but reaches much deeper into our beings. Stewardship refers to our management of the resources with which we have been blessed. It is not about fundraising, but rather about the faithful and prudent use of our lives. In scripture and in theology, stewards manage households and resources.

I pray for all of us to ponder regularly how we intend to use our lives to express our gratitude to God, our trust in God, and our commitment to the way and will of God. That includes but is not limited to our finances. I also pray to see the day when no one considers a pledge to our church a bill to pay and none of us thinks we actually pay for what we receive in congregational life. If I make it to that day, I will have lived to see a time with no need for church taxes or annual stewardship campaigns.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Please pray for Malala Yousafzai

I had sketched a reflection on stewardship to include here, but that will have to wait. Or perhaps these words will address stewardship - albeit from a different perspective.

  

Please pray for Malala Yousafzai, a fourteen year old Pakistani girl intentionally shot in the head and neck by members of the Taliban. Her attackers shot two other girls as well, but Malala was the target. The would-be assassins deemed it best to risk several lives than to miss an opportunity to kill an offender like Malala. What crime did she commit? She attends school and hopes eventually to study medicine, and three years ago she started a blog in which she advocates education for girls. The Taliban has charged her with promoting secularism and has promised to attack again if she survives. Please pray for the physical, spiritual, and emotional recovery of Malala and her friends, as well as for their families and communities.

  

Because we follow Jesus, God calls us to pray for the would-be assassins as well. Please pray not only for them to be found and held accountable for their crime, but also for God to soften their hearts. It is not easy for me to pray for them. Nor can I honestly say that I believe they will repent. Yet, when we refuse even to pray for such people, we risk becoming more like them. Every life is precious, even the lives of those who seem to deserve punishment and need God's transforming touch more than most of us.

That makes this a matter of stewardship. Stewardship, biblically and theologically, refers not simply or primarily to finances, but to the management of our lives. How do we manage our lives and follow Jesus faithfully in the face of the attack on Malala and so many other violent and evil acts? How do we continue to hope?

We hope because we believe that we are not left to ourselves. We may wrestle to comprehend God, but we believe that all that is exists in God and that God draws all that is toward wholeness. When praying for Malala I give thanks more than ever that I believe in God. The weight of feeling utterly alone would be more than I can bear. That does not make the assault on Malala or other evil less powerful, but it challenges and calls me to resist.

We express our hope by longing for God's way and will enough to pray for the just and the unjust. We offer prayers for both because we ache for a world shaped by love more than by hatred, by transformation more than retaliation, by common good more than partisan gain. The path to such a world often leads uphill, but all other paths lead nowhere worth discovering.

We express our hope by reflecting on the community most dear to us and on our own attitudes and actions and by pondering where we most need to repent. In Jesus' words, we seek help in removing the logs from our own eyes. I'd like to think that neither I nor those dear to me would ever do something as heinous as the attack on Malala. Yet, Paul truthfully reminds us that we all sin. We need God to help the best in us prevail over our worst.

What good will praying do? Prayer shapes the life and community of the one praying and the impact of praying graciously spreads beyond that person and community to all those touched by them. That makes it critical to pray for goodness, wholeness, forgiveness, and peace for all. Not everyone wants our touch, but if our touch reaches them, may it for their good and not for evil. Evil needs no help, but we all need the help goodness alone can bring.

Grace and Peace,

LP

A particularly special communion shared...and another ahead!

No liturgical practice feeds my spirit more than the Lord's Supper/Eucharist/Holy Communion. I enter a thin place at every gathering with the broken bread and shared cup. Like John Calvin, I wish we would come to the Lord's Table every week. In other words, Holy Communion always blesses me. Last Sunday the blessings flowed with particular abundance.

Since MWPC and Christ Church Cathedral co-sponsored the Jenkins Lectures with Marcus Borg, I received an invitation to participate in the Sunday service at the cathedral. Nancy, my bride, presided at Table and I helped to distribute the bread. Nancy and I rarely worship together. We had not yet married the last time we stood at the Table together. So when we assembled there with the other participants, emotion rushed over us. Nancy's voice quivered and memories of and thanksgiving for the life and vocation we share immersed me in light. As I listened to the Great Thanksgiving in her voice, knowing how much the Eucharist means to her, the embrace of the eternal became as real as my bride and my colleague between whom I stood. Fortunately, I did not have to speak. For a while I had no voice - only love, gratitude, and awe.

Then came time to serve the bread. At Christ Church the saints come to the communion rail and a pastor places the bread in their hands. I regularly comment that the people of God are never more beautiful than when celebrating Holy Communion. That beauty nearly overwhelmed me last Sunday. As I placed the bread in the hands of a grinning little boy, his mother's eyes called him to be more serious. Then we all smiled as I noted, "It's alright, mom; it's a joyful feast." A woman bent with age knelt before me and softly said, "Thank you" as I placed the bread in her hands. She knelt, but I was the one humbled. A few searched my eyes for acceptance, and the Author of All whispered, "Welcome, my child." I did not deserve the privilege of standing there, but deep gratitude flowed from the chancel into the nave and beyond.

Standing at the altar at Christ Church, you can see not only the gathered saints but also city streets. During our celebration of the gifts of God for the people of God, the homeless, young couples, city buses, and busy people passed by. The feast God provides at Table strengthens us to serve them. As Nancy prayed for the world God loves, we at the altar glimpsed into it. God whispered again, asking, "Do you see me?"

That whisper intensified as the faithful came forward. Some were my people, saints from Mount Washington continuing their weekend with Marcus Borg. Some were Nancy's people, gathered as usual for worship. Some belonged to neither of us but all belonged to God. They came forward to receive the loaf and cup, and as they returned to their pews, they could see the glimpse at the world into which our true host sends us to serve. God blessed us with an opportunity for communion. The one in whom all exist joined us with each other and with those around us whether or not we or they realized it. We tasted in the bread and cup the feast in which God makes a place for all.

This weekend we will celebrate World Communion Sunday. I cannot promise that everyone present will enter a thin place. I will. More importantly, God will welcome all who come, Christ will preside, the Spirit will dance, and we will be fed gifts we cannot provide for ourselves. Please come to the feast. We can never anticipate how blessed we will be. God's presence is like that. Thanks be to God.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Stewardship model: bouncing the last check

The New York Times recently ran an item about Charles Feeney, who grew up in a middle class family in New Jersey, served in Air Force, and attended Cornell with the help of the G. I. Bill. He then formed a company that ran airport duty free shops. After a successful career, Mr. Feeney formed Atlantic Philanthropies. He has made modest provisions for his five children and has given away six billion dollars to support medical care, immigration reform, education, criminal justice advocacy, and peace building initiatives for people in need. He hopes to contribute his final one and one-half billion to similar initiatives by 2016 with the stated goal, "I want the last check I write to bounce."

The item I read provided made no mention of Mr. Feeney's religious or spiritual life. I have no idea about his relationship with God or about what he thinks about a relationship with God. Yet, Mr. Feeney practices the kind of stewardship for which multiple passages in our New Testament call. He has not stored his abundant produce in a granary for himself, he has given without compulsion, and he has maintained his humility. Warren Buffett refers to him as a "spiritual leader" who encourages extremely wealthy people to use their money for the benefit of others and society.

I know nothing about Mr. Fenney's business practices and cannot extol him as a model of virtue. I can extol his model of stewardship. He has provided for his basic needs and helped his children to find their way. With the rest of his resources, he hopes to benefit others. Whether or not we agree with the initiatives he supports, we can admire his generous spirit.

Few of us have had or will have the success or Mr. Feeney. Nevertheless, we all have something to contribute. Those lacking financial strength have other resources to use to help others. Those lacking time or health have the capacity to care and pray. The stewardship to which God calls us begins as we choose to give thanks for what we have by doing something for others. I'm not certain why Mr. Feeney does this. As Christians, we have a call to do that because we believe that the God who loves and claims us also loves and claims the world. The purpose of life is not to declare the person with the most toys the winner, but to help everyone to enjoy life and the embrace of God.

The article I read quoted Mr. Feeney as saying, "When you've got the money, you spend it. When you've spent it all, let someone else get going and spend theirs." Financial advisers may cringe at that, but it seems consistent with scripture. The servants given the talents in the familiar parable were expected to use them. The urgency for such stewardship stems from taking advantage of the opportunities we have. No one can do everything, but if we believe that everything and everyone belongs to God we have ample reason to do something to help those who lack. We do that not to earn a reward, but to express our gratitude and our conviction that God will use our offerings in ways beyond our understanding.

Yes, stewardship season has returned. We need every gift, so we will accept pledges made as a way of paying a bill or doing our fair share. Yet, please know that the deepest joys and most lasting satisfaction come from gratefully sharing our abundance. And don't forget the joy, for reliable sources say that God loves a cheerful giver.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Service of Prayer for Wholeness

(Associate Pastor Rhonda O'Reilly prepared this week's lead item, which introduces us to a new opportunity for worship.)

The new program year is upon us at MWPC. One clear sign is that we have begun again the process of "praying through the members of MWPC." Beginning every September, the church office sends postcards to each of the members - fifteen at a time - to inform them we will specifically pray for them during Morning Prayer on the following Tuesday morning. We are always glad to hear back that things are going well, but are also thankful to know when praying for a particular person or situation would be helpful for our members and friends. We undertake this discipline because our church staff believes in the power of prayer. We hold each of you in Christian love and pray God's blessing on you and yours. We believe prayer is a dialogue with God and that intentional communication with our creator is always a good thing. Richard Foster in his book Prayer - Finding the Heart's True Home takes the attitude that prayer "is about a love relationship: an enduring, continuing, growing love relationship with the great God of the universe" (p. 3). Foster describes twenty-one different "kinds" of prayer, such as: healing prayer, intercessory prayer, the prayer of relinquishment, and contemplative prayer. He does an excellent job of explaining the origins and uses of different types of prayer and gives good, clear examples of how to pray in each style. I highly recommend the book and encourage you to check it out of the church library - or borrow my copy. However, the main purpose of this article is to make you aware of a new addition to our Sunday worship opportunities and invite you to partake in our Service of Prayer for Wholeness.

After six months of serving as your Associate Pastor for Pastoral Care, I sense a need at MWPC for a simple, regularly scheduled, worship opportunity focused on praying for those in need of healing, health, support - in general - wholeness.

In the past I have participated in leading such a service based on a service defined in the PC (USA) Book of Common Worship. After an opening hymn, the scripture and a short comment, there is an "Intercession for Healing." This involves quiet music played and folks invited to come forward (if they wish) individually, for prayer with the pastor, including laying on of hands and anointing, if desired. After everyone who desires has come forward, the time concludes with a general prayer for wholeness and the Lord's Prayer. The service ends with a simple, quiet hymn and a blessing.

Our Celebrate Ministry and Session have supported my request for such an offering; it will be held on the first Sunday of each month at 8:30 a.m. (average length 30 minutes) in the Chapel. I will look for feedback from our Session and congregation regarding the timing, content, and value of this opportunity. If this time of spiritual support sounds like something that would be helpful for you, please plan to join us beginning Sunday, October 7 at 8:30 a.m. in the chapel.

Learning and growing

Sunday School classes have resumed, the sounds of preschool children and parents fill our hallways, and school buses have resumed crowding cars off the relatively narrow street on which I live. A new program and educational year has begun. I become a little nostalgic at this time of the year. As a professor, I relished the potential of a new academic year. As a student, I anticipated the books to be read, the long-awaited class to begin, and the classes taken out of curiosity to reveal their secrets. The brain is a muscle. Without exercise, it dies. Learning keeps us alive. Learning also has a spiritual dimension. As Chaim Potok states in In the Beginning, "A shallow mind is a sin against God." The Gospel writers more eloquently call us to love God with all of our minds. So, what is our plan for learning, for loving God with our minds?

Adult followers of Jesus at MWPC have a variety of opportunities this fall. At the end of this month, Marcus Borg, perhaps the best known member of the Jesus Seminar, arrives for lectures here and at Christ Church Cathedral. Borg addresses primarily those who do not feel at home in traditional theological paradigms. He will offer those who resonate with him a possible path to travel and stimulate those who disagree to articulate what they hold to be true. Borg's Jenkins Lectures are merely one of our many offerings. Click on Adult Education under Learn Ministries on our website to discover other possibilities and varied topics.

Private study can supplement what we learn and ponder together. In addition to reading purchased and borrowed books, I regularly visit the Hartford Institute for Religion Research webpage for stimulating articles on religion in the United States and receive weekly blog or email postings from a few selected theological sources. Most of us spend considerable time online. We can approach loving God with all our minds by using some of it to challenge ourselves intellectually and spiritually.

Christians in the United States could become more biblically and theologically literate. It is not an urban legend that some Christians identify Joan of Arc as Noah's wife. Polls conducted by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life (another good website to visit) and other research organizations regularly show that a majority of Protestants do not know the role Martin Luther played in their traditions, that an astonishing number of Roman Catholics cannot articulate what their tradition affirms happens when a priest consecrates the loaf and cup, and that most Christians do not know that the Bible does not identify and list seven deadly or mortal sins. Following Jesus does not require a degree in theology, but those outside the church struggle to take us seriously when they discover that we cannot clearly articulate what the gospel is and who we are. Yes, my belief that what we do in Jesus' name matters more than what we believe about him draws close to or crosses the line into what the church considers heresy. That does not eliminate my responsibility to know something about what Jesus did and taught and what Christian scripture and tradition say about him.

Many of our professions require continued study. Many of us not only enjoy watching our favorite sports teams but also know something about the players and the team's heritage. We rush to internet sources to learn about the medicines our physicians prescribe. We love our careers, pastimes, and lives with our minds. God deserves that much and more.

Have a great program/educational year, MWPC!

LP

Planting and appreciation

From Medieval Irish Lore comes a story of an encounter between a young man on a walk and an old man struggling to plant trees beside his house. "What are you doing?" the young man asked. When the old man replied, "Planting fruit trees," the young man responded, "But you'll see no fruit from these trees in your lifetime." "True," the old man answered, "but the fruit I've enjoyed came from trees planted by those who came before me. I'm planting trees for those who come after me." I'd like to age like that.

Nancy and I were attracted to our home by the beautiful trees that lined the street and surrounded the houses. The Emerald Ash Borer, age, and wind storms claim several of those trees annually; yet, most of our neighbors replace them with ornamental trees or nothing. The cooler air, abundant wildlife, and picturesque scenes we enjoy may not linger for those who follow us. That saddens me.

In "The Seven Pillars of Creation: The Bible, Science, and the Ecology of Wonder," Hebrew Bible Professor William P. Brown contrasts and connects biblical creation stories with the fruits of scientific discovery and exploration. A conclusion he draws in the closing pages provides an intriguing context for my first two paragraphs. After noting the negative impact of human patterns of consumption on our ecosystem and pointing to a few ways to become more environmentally friendly, Brown declares, "... [humanity] cannot live by science alone. Science can explain the crisis ...; it can even suggest ways to mitigate it. But science cannot bring about the repentance, indeed conversion, necessary to chart a new way of life. It does not provide a compelling warrant for acknowledging the intrinsic value of life or its sanctity." As my students used to say, "That'll preach."

We all received blessings from those who traveled before us. Yes, we received some bane as well and yes, we exerted effort to accept and build on what we received. Yet, we depended on those who traveled before us, and generations yet to come depend on us. Those who deem all that is a mere cosmological accident may have no compelling reason to take that seriously. Those who deem all that is a gift of God have a decidedly different perspective.

A mature, leafy tree produces as much oxygen in a season as ten people inhale in a year. Planting a tree expresses gratitude for what we have received and repentance for any negative impact we have had. Large-scale livestock operations degrade land, air, and water. A recent NPR article noted that our consumption of a quarter-pound hamburger presently requires 6.7 pounds of grain and forage, 52.8 gallons of water, 74.5 square feet of land, and 1,036 btus of fossil fuel energy. Going meatless one day each week expresses gratitude for our many food choices and conversion to new life. Investigating all of our patterns of consumption can lead to similar gratitude, repentance, and conversion. Scientists are doing their part. For the glory of God and for the good of the earth and the communities we form on it, it's time for people of faith to keep up.

Yes, I drive a pickup truck. Yet, a recent study suggested that a carnivore driving a Prius has a more negative environmental impact than a vegan driving a Hummer. While God's drawing me into conversion, I'm working on gratitude and repentance.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Learning to love, one small step at a time

The New Testament provides abundant evidence that early followers of Jesus did not share the same convictions on a variety of issues that found their way into Christian doctrine. They held very different opinions about the divinity of Jesus, the nature of God, the ministry of the Spirit, the meaning of baptism, the role of women in leadership, and more. Despite this lack of doctrinal unanimity, the membership, ministries, and influence of the early church grew inexplicably rapidly and widely.  

While reflecting on this in "The Underground Church: Reclaiming the Subversive Way of Jesus," Robin Meyers writes: "... uniformity has never and never will be achieved. The church can survive a diversity of gifts and styles, a diversity of worship and liturgy, even a diversity of ways to express the ultimate mystery that is God - but only if love rules. ...a church can survive differences of opinion. It cannot, however, survive a deficit of love."

Before nodding in agreement, remember that in scripture love is not an emotion. It is a decision, a life-changing decision about how to treat and live with everyone. Referring to members of the faith community, Jesus commands, "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another" (John 13:34). Referring to God and those around us, Jesus commands us to love God and our neighbor with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength (Mark 12:30-31; Matthew 22:34-40; Luke 10:25-28). Referring to those we prefer to ignore, Jesus commands, "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you" (Luke 6:27-28). Followers of Jesus answer a call to radical love. Loving like Jesus commands will not resolve our doctrinal disputes, but it would profoundly change all our relationships.

When acting in love comes first, no doctrinal disagreement will keep us from working beside another believer to help one of "the least of these." The hungry have little or no interest in our theological convictions or worship preferences. They want to survive and would like to know that someone sees and cares.

When loving comes first, what we do and do not believe about God matters less than what we do for and in the name of God. In an ancient Jewish tale a rabbi explains that he did not hear a baby crying because he was deeply immersed in prayer. Another rabbi charged, "If you were praying to God, God would have told you the infant was crying." Fervor and purity do not excuse us from being visible members of the Body of Christ where and when we are.

When living in love comes first, we know that although not everyone appears to deserve our prayers, God deserves our prayers for everyone. Scripture does not invite us to pick and choose for whom to pray. Because in love we want the best for all God's creatures, we pray and work for the benefit of the violent and their victims, the terrorist and the terrorized, the smug and the humble, the callous and the tender-hearted. We constantly live in the tension justice and compassion generate. As we rail with Amos, "let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream" (Amos 5:24), we also look for ways to assist those carried away by that tide.

The call to radical love we receive as followers of Jesus demands more than we can offer. It reminds us of our constant need of God's grace and each other. We learn to love like that one small step at a time. It's easier to memorize creeds and debate doctrine. Yet, when all is said and done, do we want (and does God want us) to be known as folks who always have an answer or as folks who "live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (Ephesians 5:2)?

Grace and Peace,

LP

Celebrating and connecting with laborers

Most of us enjoy some time off of work on Labor Day, how many of us know that Labor Day began as a movement to promote the equality and dignity of labor? Many attribute the origin of a holiday for folks who labor to Peter McGuire, a New York City carpenter. Aware that the typical work day was ten hours and the ordinary work week was six days, that children often were exploited and women nearly always received unequal treatment in the workplace, and that complaints about poor working conditions abounded, McGuire and others planned the first Labor Day parade on September 5, 1882. Fourteen years later our Congress added the holiday to our national calendar.

We have no reason to cancel our typical Labor Day plans, but it seems right to ponder the origins of this holiday. Do we give any thought to the wages and working conditions of the laborers who make our lifestyles possible? Do we know that many of those from whose labors we benefit do not receive the minimum wage? Do the companies in which we invest try to assure that the laborers who create and transport what they manufacture and sell receive adequate compensation and work in suitable conditions? Becoming aware takes time; but truly celebrating a holiday means honoring its roots.

Nancy and I are not paragons of virtue in this arena, but we have taken small steps. We recently renovated our kitchen. Often to the chagrin of our contractor we investigated where what we planned to purchase was made and whether the firms had a good reputation for the treatment of laborers. We may have made mistakes and our decisions increased the cost of our project, but we considered it a responsibility of people called and sealed into life and ministry with one who demands that we love our neighbors as ourselves.

We've also begun purchasing more of our food locally. That does not guarantee that laborers receive a fair wage and farmers receive a fair price, but it in a small way connects us with those whose labors provide the foods we enjoy. As we get better at making those connections, our motivation for promoting the equality and dignity of labor will deepen.

Again, Nancy and I are not paragons of virtue. We are, however, trying to become more aware of those on whose labors we depend. Awareness can begin close to home. Consider something as customary for us as a worship service. Without the labor of our custodians, our building would be far less clean and comfortable. Other laborers worked in this summer's heat to improve the utility service on which we depend. Still other workers labored in the heat to keep our failing chiller operational. Another worker sometimes comes in on a day off to get our chiller running when it fails. Other laborers create, print, and fold the worship bulletins and announcement pages we peruse. This list could continue. Do we acknowledge and give thanks for those laborers?

Please celebrate Labor Day. Please also work at becoming aware of those on whose labor we depend, learning something about their treatment and compensation, and celebrating our connections with them. The more we realize how connected we are, the more readily we become the kind of neighbors Jesus calls us to be.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Please consider joining in on "Borg" events! - Harold K.

LP is on leave this week and invited Ruling Elder Harold Kolenbrander to share these thoughts.

Let me encourage you to...

Before beginning to "encourage you to..." permit me to give you a little information about the author of these comments.

I will not go back to my beginnings but start at the adult level. My educational background is as a scientist. For a few years following graduate school, I taught organic and biochemistry to college undergraduates. Then as the faculty would say, "He went astray!" That is, I found myself increasingly involved in the administrative side of college/university work. I mention this background only to indicate why I have such a strong interest in education - I spent my entire career there!

For the past few years I have had the privilege of serving on the Alton Jenkins Lecture and the Adult Education Committees. Soon, the weekend of September 28-30, we will have the privilege of hosting, in conjunction with Christ Church Cathedral, Dr. Marcus Borg as our Jenkins Lecturer. If you are like I am, you may be asking yourself "Who is Marcus Borg?" Good question. Dr. Borg held the Hundere Chair of Religion and Culture at Oregon State University until his retirement in 2007 and is the author of numerous books dealing with Christian topics. Moreover, he is widely recognized as one of the leading scholars on the topic of the historical Jesus. He has served as chair of the Historical Jesus section of the Society of Biblical Literature and is currently serving as the Canon Theologian at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in Portland, OR.

In late February and early March, with LP's skilled tutelage, about 45 of us gathered on five successive Wednesday evenings to share our thoughts regarding the ideas presented by Dr. Borg in his book entitled Speaking Christian. In this book Dr. Borg encouraged us to think along some new, sometimes challenging, lines as we explored our Christian faith and faith journeys together. At the beginning of each session, LP reminded us that we were not engaged in this process to change each other's minds or to proselytize for a particular position, but rather to encourage us to explore more deeply what our Christian faith means to each of us. I found it a deeply enriching experience!   And I have good reason to believe I was not the only one of the 45 attendees who found it so.

A couple of weeks prior to Dr. Borg's visit, LP will lead another discussion (three sessions) focusing on another of Borg's books - Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time. So here is where the "encourage you to..." comes in. I encourage you to join us for these sessions with LP and for as many of the "weekend with Marcus Borg" activities (Borg Weekend Link) as you can. I do that without hesitation knowing that you, like this septuagenarian, may find yourself challenged to think more deeply, and perhaps along some new/challenging lines and thus to enrich your faith journey. If I recall correctly, LP told us in one of his sermons that one of this year's class of confirmands had said: "Faith is hard." Indeed faith is hard and I have been struggling with new concepts and ideas that I am trying to sort out to see what will allow me to appropriately integrate faith and reason. It has not been a struggle without serious challenges for me, but it is equally important to note that the struggle has helped me grow in my faith. I am confident that the same will be true for you.

So, whether you are a novice or one who has thought long and hard about your faith, I encourage you to join us for both of these upcoming activities (LP's three sessions and the Borg weekend). I know you will be rewarded; without doubt you will be challenged and you probably will be troubled by some of the new concepts, but it will be worth the effort!

Let me encourage you to join us.

Harold M. Kolenbrander

A gnawing sense...will it be worth it?

I've begun reading Robin Meyers's "The Underground Church: Reclaiming the Subversive Way of Jesus." I knew this would not be a gentle read when the second page of the Prologue claimed, "Every Sunday morning, countless people wake up with both a desire to go to church and a gnawing sense that it won't be worth it." Then Meyers queries, "Who [in church] expects to weep at recognizing the world as it really is, or to shudder at the certainty that until we start taking risks it is likely to stay that way?" Then he charges that most sermons deal with safe generalities and avoid dangerous specifics: "They neither take off nor land on a street we recognize or in the neighborhood where we live. Then before you know it, the fasten seat belt sign comes on to announce the final hymn, even though no one has experienced a single moment of turbulence."

I have enough to ponder for the rest of the year and I've yet to make it to the first chapter. I could be intrigued by Meyers's comments because at this time of year I tentatively select texts and topics for next year's sermons and services. He also helped me to remember that more than a year ago a faithful saint asked me to preach on something akin to the "right to die," a message that would proclaim that some situations call for embracing a good death. I've never gotten around to that. Why? Do I fear turbulence? Many of us have faced or will face this issue. I did with my mother nine summers ago.

Since I'm still in the Prologue, I'm not certain whether I can recommend "The Underground Church." But I do want to ask what topics or texts the saints reading this reflection would like an upcoming sermon to address. I have in mind such daily realities as climate change, escalating violence, and worship of wealth. Goaded by Meyer's quotation of a Mary Oliver poem that speaks of the "melancholy madness" of Jesus' message, I also have in mind the more demanding aspects of following Jesus and scripture's repeated insistence that people of faith should have more hope than fear, that each of us has a call to build and serve community, that baptism changes everything, that encouraging each other is a command not a courtesy, and that God expects us to seek not avoid the troubled and the troubling.

So again, what topics, what questions about the intersection of following Jesus and daily life, and what texts would you like to discuss? Some might prove more suited for a study group than a sermon. Some might find their way into both. We might even have an occasional study that leads to a sermon prepared not solely by the assigned preacher but by a group of saints who have sought discernment together. If you have a topic or text in mind, respond to the blog site below, send an email, leave a voicemail, or write a note. I prefer signed messages because that makes it possible for us to chat. If that's too uncomfortable, opt for anonymity. I cannot promise to deal with everything suggested or to consider all topics appropriate. I do promise to take every request seriously. If we can help more folks awaken on Sunday (or any day) with certainty that going to church for worship, study, service, or fellowship is worth it, we will have been good and faithful servants - even if that does not come without turbulence!

Grace and Peace,

LP