Category: church

The Interruptions of Grace

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

In the first year of my second pastorate I planned a six-week book study for Lent. I selected the topic and bought books for the participants, developed a lesson plan, and was excited about this opportunity to study with the parishioners. On the first Wednesday of Lent, those who had signed up for the class showed up for the beginning night of the study. Everyone was there, including a parishioner who lived nearby the church in a group home and who attended every service at the church.

His name was Larry and I bought him a book and knew he would join the study even though his reading skills were quite limited and the class was a little too advanced for him. On that opening night, I began the session with prayer and immediately launched into the lesson for chapter one when Larry mumbled something. Thinking he was only speaking to the woman sitting next to him, I didn’t address him, but continued to move through the night’s lesson. He spoke out again and it was evident he had something to share.

“What is it Larry?” I asked, hoping it would be something easy that could be attended to and not impede the progress of the study.

He paused a minute and just before I could start the lesson again, he said, “My mama passed this morning.”

Surprised by the announcement, I asked again, “What, Larry?” And he repeated what he had just said. “My mama passed this morning.”

Immediately, everyone in the class began asking more questions, “When, Larry?” “What happened, Larry?” “Had your mother been sick?”

And I suddenly became very aware that the lesson I had planned was not going to go at all like I had expected. Having had some hospice training and knowing Larry, I left the fellowship hall where everyone was gathered, went to a Sunday School classroom and found some paper and crayons. I knew Larry liked to draw and thought he might prefer the opportunity to color a picture of his mother rather than answer more questions. I walked back in the room and placed the paper and box of crayons in front of him.

“Would you like to draw a picture of your mom in heaven?” And Larry instantly picked up a crayon and piece of paper and started coloring and for a minute, I considered the notion that maybe I could continue with the class, let Larry talk if he wanted, return to the conversation about his loss if desired; but, I thought, maybe we could just complete part of the first chapter. And I went back to my seat and was just about to start up again when something happened.

Every other person gathered around that table picked up a piece of paper too. And someone passed around the box of crayons and each one of them took one out and started coloring pictures just like Larry.

“Your mama was a good singer, Larry,” one of the deacons said as he drew. “I’m sure she’s singing in the choir up in heaven.”

“Oh, your mama made the best biscuits, Larry,” another lay leader added, coloring a picture of a woman at a stove. “I bet she’s already cooking up there.”

“And sew! Your mama made the prettiest dresses,” one more chimed in, the crayon moving across the page. And I stopped and just watched. Closed the book, put aside the well-laid plans, shut the folder of all of my carefully created notes, and watched as the leaders of that little parish cared for Larry.

It is, I now know, one of the best images of church I have. These church members putting aside their plans and needs and choosing to color pictures to help a son grieve his mother’s death.

That was the night I learned that sometimes God shows up only when we set aside our agendas, our well-laid strategies, and expectations for what is supposed to happen in church and in our lives and allow the Spirit to do what actually needs to be done.

As you move through your week, making your plans for vacation or family gatherings, for whatever it is you deem important, may you allow room for the interruptions of grace that remind you of what the Spirit wants to do.

The Little Church That Could

by Rev. Tina Campbell

I told them I wasn’t a parish pastor. My first gig was on the streets of the Southside of Chicago and I did no parish field work in seminary. I prayed in long houses in British Columbia and was perfectly at home inside a maximum security prison unit. Addicts and inmates, dying people and rebellious teenagers didn’t daunt me, but I certainly wasn’t a parish pastor. This is not to say that I am without faith. The kind of ministry I have experienced is not for the faint of heart. So ok…I’ll strike a deal. I’ll come and preach and then go home. They agreed to that. Then I watched them.

They did everything at the church. They cleaned the bathrooms. They replaced toilets. They brought food. They prepared the bulletins. There was a dog who sat in the front pew and seemed to listen to my sermons. There was a piano player who could make all my favorite songs fill the sanctuary with joy. They never said, “We’ve done enough.” They always said, “How can I help?” They never said, “I’m too busy.” They always said, “I’ll do that right away.” They didn’t just talk about the unhoused in our downtown Phoenix community, they showed up in person to visit with them. They made hundreds of blankets for our asylum seeking neighbors in Mexico and convinced non-church community members to bring carloads of food to place at our altar before distribution to local food banks. The men clean up the kitchen. They know stuff about addiction, incarceration, poverty, LBGTQ issues and loss.. They’re even fun, and they laugh and tease one another. They recently raised thousands of dollars to provide heat relief during our desert climate crisis.

After awhile,  I started looking at their dear faces from the pulpit, and I realized that I loved them, especially the dog. It seems I’m a parish pastor after all. God certainly has a wild sense of humor.

I will not be among the hand wringers who prophesize the demise of the Christian church. I believe our strength is not in numbers, but in bold faith put into action. If we focus on acting out the Good News of the all inclusive Gospel, we can’t go wrong. Black Mountain United Church of Christ has taught me that. I say this with good authority.  After all, I’m a parish pastor. 

The Reverend Dr. Kristina Campbell

Transitional Minister Black Mountain United Church of Christ

Scottsdale, Arizona 

The Art of Inviting: How to Extend an Extravagant Welcome

by Christopher Schouten, moderator at Black Mountain UCC, in a letter to church members

Hello, dear members of the Black Mountain United Church of Christ,

If you’re reading this, it’s likely that you’re passionate about our community and you’re keen on extending the warmth, love, and fellowship we share to others. However, the task of inviting someone to church can seem daunting, if not a little intimidating. You’re not alone – many people feel the same way. 

The good news? Inviting someone to church doesn’t have to be a nerve-wracking experience. Here are a few practical suggestions on how to approach it:

1. Choose wisely: Everyone is potentially a great invitee. However, focusing on people you already have a connection with can be a more comfortable starting point. These could be friends, family members, coworkers, or neighbors. They’re already familiar with you, and you with them, which makes for a more organic conversation.

2. Know your audience: Before extending an invitation, try to understand the other person’s spiritual beliefs, interests, or needs. For instance, a friend grappling with grief might appreciate a supportive community, or a relative new to the area could be looking to make connections.

3. Practice empathy: Be mindful of your invitee’s comfort level. Respect their religious or non-religious beliefs and ensure your invitation does not come across as forceful or intrusive. 

Now, let’s talk about how to start that conversation:

1. Find a natural segue: If the subject of faith, community, or church comes up in a casual conversation, that could be an opportune time to mention your church and extend an invitation. 

2. Share your experience: Talk about why you love our church community and how it’s helped you. Personal stories resonate, and you’re more likely to spark interest this way. For instance, you could say, “I’ve been attending the Black Mountain United Church, and it’s been such a source of strength and community for me. I think you might enjoy it as well.”

3. Involve them in a church event: Instead of directly inviting them to a service, invite them to a non-religious event your church is hosting. It could be a community service project, a book club, or a potluck dinner. This will give them an opportunity to experience the community and decide if they’d like to explore further.

4. Use social media: If face-to-face invitations feel daunting, consider sharing your church experience on social media. A picture from a recent event or a quote from last Sunday’s sermon could pique someone’s interest.

5. Follow up, but don’t push: After extending an invitation, give the person some time to consider it. Be open to answering any questions they may have about our church but refrain from pushing them to give you an answer.

Remember, the goal isn’t to have a high ‘success rate’ of getting people to come to church. The true aim is to extend an open hand of friendship and love to those around us. Keep your intentions pure, stay patient, and you might be surprised by how many lives you touch.

Your role as a member of Black Mountain United Church of Christ extends beyond our weekly services. It’s about living our values and extending our spirit of community, one invitation at a time. 

The human desire to put God in a box

by Rev. Deb Church

“To what can I compare this generation? They are like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling out to others:

‘We played the pipe for you, and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.’

For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’ But wisdom is proved right by her deeds.” (Matthew 11:16-19, NIV)

These verses are part of Sunday’s lectionary Gospel text, and they got me thinking about the human desire to put God in a box… Here are a few more contemporary examples (or perhaps you have your own):

“I prayed desperately to God that my sister would survive when she got cancer. She didn’t. People told me if I had prayed harder, she would have lived…”

“So many people all over the world are starving. How can there possibly be a loving God who allows that to continue to happen??”

“When I go to church, I want to be comforted and inspired. The new minister says things that make me feel bad, so I don’t go any more. I just don’t believe God wants me to feel bad when I go to church!”

“There are so many lies told in the name of God, so much hurt inflicted in the name of God– God, can’t you please just smite the people who are saying and doing those terrible, hurtful things??”

“It says in the Bible, ‘Women should be silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak but should be subordinate…’ [1 Corinthians 14:34, NRSV] It seems perfectly clear that there should not be women preachers!”

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we like to think we know God–how God will act, of whom God approves, when God will show up, why (and on whom) God will pronounce both favor and judgment, what God has to say about a certain situation, etc.

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we are also people of faith, and therefore, we know God. And we know those things about God.

Well, we think we know those things…because surely, we know God…

Okay, if we’re honest, we really want to know those things…because we desperately want to believe that we know God. Because if we can convince ourselves that we know God, then we can convince ourselves that we understand God. And we believe we understand God, then we can predict God’s involvement in our lives, and in our neighbors’ lives, and in the lives of folks all around the world. And if we can predict God’s involvement in the world around us, then we can count on God’s action, when and where and how we expect it. And above all, perhaps, we will be assured that what we’re saying and doing and thinking and believing about God is good and right and true (and…that “theirs” is not).

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we know not of what we speak…

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we know not of whom we speak…

Like the people of Jesus’s time, who were also people of faith, when we claim certainty about God, and about how and where and when and among whom God will show up in the world, we will almost certainly miss it…

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we must not put God in a box. Instead, Jesus challenges us to look for signs of God’s presence, as “proved…by her deeds.” (Matt. 11:19b)

When we see truth, there is God.
When we see kindness, there is God.
When we see justice with mercy, there is God.
When we see solidarity with those who are suffering, there is God.
When we see deep laughter, gentleness, humility, and wisdom, there is God.
When we see compassion, peace, joy, and generosity, there is God.
When we see healing and reconciliation, there is God.
When we see wholeness, there is God.
When we see love, there is God.

We cannot know with certainty how and where and when and among whom God will show up. But we can know without a doubt that God is present and at work, in our lives and in all of God’s creation.

Almighty and Tender God, may our eyes and ears and minds and spirits be open to truly know you, to humbly see you, and to courageously join you in your work in the world.

May it be so.

Do Lent, or not do Lent

by Rev. Talitha Arnold, Senior Pastor, United Church of Santa Fe

“What the heck is Lent?” a friend asked. “What’s with the ashes, the morose songs, the somber colors? I thought the United Church was for happy Christians. Why do we have to do Lent?”

Truth be known, we don’t. “Doing Lent” or giving up something for the next 40 days isn’t required at the United Church of Santa Fe. As part of the United Church of Christ, we’re in the reform Protestant tradition (Congregational, Disciples of Christ, Baptists, etc.) that historically didn’t “do” Lent. In fact, many “free church” Protestants looked with suspicion on Lent. Some still do. Lent was something those Catholics, Lutherans, or Episcopalians did. The ashes, giving up meat or candy, all that purple was a bit too Popish or liturgical for our tastes. As my friend said, we were supposed to be happy Christians.

Other Protestants didn’t mark Lent, because as one friend observed, in her church it was Lent all the time. With all the rules against dancing, drinking, and card playing, they didn’t have anything to give up!

So technically, we don’t have to do anything or give up anything for Lent at the United Church of Santa Fe. But many of us have found that Easter has deeper meaning, if we set aside Lent’s 40 days for something other than life or business as usual.

If we wanted to sing in a concert, we’d need to set aside time to rehearse. To compete in a basketball tournament, we’d take time to practice our free throws. The same is true for our experience of Easter. To know new life in any form—spiritually, physically, intellectually—we need to take time to practice. Setting aside the 40 days of Lent for study, prayer, silence, and other spiritual disciplines is a way to engage new ideas, new feelings, new possibilities.

Sometimes to let in new life, we also have to let go of some things. Before you start a new project, you might need to clear off your desk. Before you ran a marathon, you might want to shed some weight. The same is true of our souls. Sometimes we need to clean out and shed extra baggage to make room for something new.

Observing Lent is not required for admission to Easter at the United Church. Come Easter morning, you’ll be as welcome at United as you are any morning.

But perhaps if we take the 40 days of Lent to practice new life or if we set aside time to remember the sacredness of our lives and all life, then maybe, just maybe, Easter might have a new meaning for us this year. We don’t have to “do Lent,” but we might be surprised what’s possible if we do.

Fasten your seat belts—Lent has come!

Get ready—because Easter is on its way!

Consent Matters!

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

How do we have a relationship with God that is truly consensual? I’ve been thinking a lot about this in light of all the cases of religious teachers and leaders who preyed on parishioners, abusing them sexually without a single thought to the power dynamic at play. These abusive religious leaders may think the relationship is consensual, but how much consent does a person really have if the one pursuing them is a trusted, powerful force in their life? How does one have mutuality with someone so high on a pedestal?

Let’s expand the question by infinity and consider our free will with God. I’ll never forget a conversation I had with a friend when we were both in seminary. I asked her if she believed in hell. She said, “NO. I don’t believe God is a violent abuser.” Growing up in an evangelical Christian tradition, I always had a question about consent related to what they taught about salvation. If my choice to follow Jesus is a choice between that or having the proverbial gun to my head (believe, or go to hell), then is it really a choice? It seemed like a religious version of the 70’s National Lampoon cover, “If you don’t buy this magazine, we’ll kill this dog.” You’re gonna buy the magazine!

A couple of years ago, the empowerment movement against sexual assault and abuse known as #MeToo spawned a similar #ChurchToo movement. Women from a wide variety of Christian denominations spoke out about sexual abuse at the hands of church leaders. Protestants who used to point fingers at the Catholic sex scandals now saw the finger pointed at them for the same crimes. It catalyzed whole new conversations about consent.

Did Mary actually have a choice about bearing God’s son? Wouldn’t anyone visited by an angel and told they would be incarnating a holy child feel compelled to say, well, OK?

Are we doomed to a life separated from God if we don’t say yes to God’s attempts to heal and renew us?

Is God more like a sensitive lover who makes sure we are ready to take the next step in our relationship before asking more of us? Or is God transactional and pushy, using God’s power to press us forward? “Do this and you’ll be OK. Don’t do it and you will be in a world of hurt.”

Many of the saints, mystics and today’s contemplative Christians line up on the side of God as sensitive lover, who uses divine lure and patience with us, waiting for us to fully consent before the transformative work begins. My favorite part of the welcoming prayer based on Fr. Thomas Keating’s teachings names this consent: “I welcome what I am experiencing this moment in my body as an opportunity to consent to the Divine Indwelling.”

Consent is of primary importance in spirituality. Do not allow anyone to coerce you into any belief, activity, or relationship. Spiritual directors must be especially careful not to be coercive in any way so that our clients always have freedom. I believe our consent is important to God. And that means it is important to spiritual leaders and guides.

STILL???

by Dr. Kristina “Tina” Campbell

At the end of a recent meeting, a male clergy stood to his full height, looked me square in the eye, and announced, “Tina, now I’m going to a meeting of pastors who do not believe in the ordination of women, and I consider them to be my brothers in Christ.” And then he turned on his heel and exited the room. It felt like a drive by shooting. Like most cowards, he made sure there were no witnesses and no opportunity for confrontation. I was triggered into full blown post traumatic stress, going back to countless similar episodes that occurred during my seminary days fifty years ago. I was stunned.

Later in the day, I shared the incident with a trusted colleague, and he, too, looked me straight in the eye and said, “That was no micro-aggression. That was an all out attack.” Then he paused and said, “I’m sorry.”

I was one of the “firsts”—women to be ordained, to be accepted in my CPE program, to serve in certain roles in ecclesiastical, administrative and chaplaincy positions. Being a “first” is exhausting, lonely, and sometimes challenging beyond measure, and yet we “firsts” hope some progress has been made as a result of our efforts. I have not lost hope or determination or a sense of call, yet I find myself the only member of my full-time staff belonging to a denomination that ordains women. Sometimes it feels as if no progress has been made. Sometimes it feels like we are fighting fifty year old battles.

I get it why Jesus went to the desert to be alone. I don’t think he wanted to give up. He just needed a moment to shed a few private tears, to absorb the concept of betrayal, to reassess, to regroup, to ready himself for crucifixion. I get it why Jesus needed to stare stunned into space, allowing his doubts, fears, anger, and disappointments to wash over him. He needed that sacred desert space to regroup, restore and return to his ministry as a whole human being. I love Jesus for going to the desert and unapologetically experiencing his full humanity. I love Jesus for never saying it would be easy or without personal pain. Lent affords us the opportunity to pause, to fully feel and to prepare to return to the challenges of our faith and calling. Breathe. Bow. Weep. Restore. Return. Amen.

–Tina was ordained in 1975 and retains a faith where all are fully embraced to pursue their authentic selves and callings. She has been in the desert for over forty years.

Why I need church (It’s not just the paycheck!)

by Rev. Deb Worley

For fifteen months–from March 2020 to June 2021, when the entire world was effectively shut down by the novel and mysterious and deadly Covid-19 virus–we worshiped online.

We wondered when we would be able to worship in person again. We wondered if we would be able to worship in person again. We wondered, if we were able to worship in person again, would we??

Would people come back? Or would people have realized there were other things to do on a Sunday morning? Better things? Easier things? More relaxing things? More entertaining things? More meaningful things? More relevant things??

When we began to worship in person again, on June 6, 2021, I felt strongly that worship had to be relevant. It had to connect with our Monday-Saturday lives; it had to speak into our daily living; it had to say something about real life.

And so for that Sunday, and for each Sunday since then, I have composed what I have come to call my “opening monologue.”

It’s not funny at all. I keep thinking perhaps we would draw bigger crowds if it were. If only I could somehow channel Jimmy Fallon, or Tina Fey, or Trevor Noah. Or even better, David Letterman! But alas, I am no stand-up comic.

I am, however, a person of deep faith. And I am convinced that the Gospel has the power to transform lives, and that those transformed lives have the power to change the world. Still. Now. Today.

I believe, deep in my soul, that the message of Christ is relevant, that an orientation toward faith makes life more meaningful, and that being part of a community of Spirit-seeking folks offers belonging and strength like nothing else does.

And still…each week I ask myself: why do I go to church? Why do I keep showing up? Why do I keep hoping others will show up? Do I really need church?…

Each week, as I prepare worship, I ask myself that question. And each week, I come down on the side of YES.

Here’s one example:

My “Opening Monologue” (January 23, 2022)

There’s a group of us who are participating in the weekly study group that has begun to read the Bible chronologically. It’s still just January, so we’re not very far along yet—we’ve just moved out of Genesis, as a matter of fact!

But wowee wow wow, are those people nasty! There is so much lying! And deceit! And manipulation! And conniving! And violence! And scheming! And sibling rivalry–my boys have got nothing on the 10 older brothers of Joseph!

It’s almost like, well, almost like the kinds of behavior going on in the world today! Lying…deceit…manipulation…conniving…violence…scheming…

I’ve been reminded that, sadly, these kinds of behaviors are not new.

They seem to be as old as the human race. Which is a little discouraging…

And…I’ve also been reminded that in spite of that, God has remained faithful! Amazing. Amazing!

We humans continue to lie and deceive and manipulate one another, and threaten and compete and inflict violence upon one another… And God continues to be faithful.

God continues to call us back to God. God continues to invite us into a different way of being. God continues to work in us and through us and–too often–in spite of us, to bring about that different way of being, a reality grounded in healing and wholeness and freedom! AND, most amazing of all: God continues to LOVE US!

Here is this place, I hope we can be reminded of the reality of God, in the midst of the reality of our not-so-pretty humanity.

Here in this place, I hope we can be reminded of the invitation God continues to extend to us, to participate in and work for God’s reality…

Here in this place, I hope we can be reminded of God’s faithfulness across generations, in spite of our coming and going in faith, our sometimes-hot and sometimes-cold and often-times-lukewarm faith…

Here in this place, I hope we can be reminded of God’s unwavering presence with us and all of humanity, even though we waver in our commitment and in our courage…

Here in this place, I hope we can be reminded of the goodness of God,

even with full awareness of how we humans have lied and cheated and manipulated and schemed our way through history…

It’s good to be reminded of the reality of God, and the faithfulness of God, and the goodness of God…”

That’s one reason why I need church.

Why do you?

Deb Worley

Relational Ways of Being the Church for Post-Pandemic Times

by Rev. Kari Collins

Many of our local churches are weary. Many are struggling. We have long treated our local churches like transactions. How many members do we have? How many are in attendance each Sunday. Are all of the vacancies filled on our committees and ministries? How many children and youth do we have? How much is our budget? And we’ve limited our ministry by saying, “We’ve never done it that way,” or its corollary, “We’ve always done it this way.” But transactions are numbers, and the truth is, those numbers have been in decline for many of our churches for decades.  

And then the pandemic hit. Our in-person church stopped. Our society stopped. Our entire world stopped. And while many of our churches were able to pivot to online methods of worship and ministry, pandemic fatigue is real for so many of us! 

In a recent article titled, “They’re Not Coming Back,” Reverend Rob Dyer contends that even as we slowly reopen our churches, people are not coming back to the church, at least not at the same level of engagement as before…. nor will they. We have all been traumatized by this pandemic.  

So what do we do? How do we, our churches, reintroduce ourselves as a place that can tend to the wounds that this pandemic has opened in all of us? 

I believe we have a choice. We can continue to be transactional churches and see our numbers decline, now even more precipitously post-pandemic than before. 

Or, we can see this post-pandemic time as an opportunity to operate differently as church, an opportunity to transform lives in new ways.  

And it is in this opportunity that I find hope. This will require innovative change. And, to be honest, we don’t know what these changes might look like.  And this is where God comes in. 

Each and every one of us has gifts for ministry. If we work to develop and deepen our relationships with one another, we can seek to understand the life experiences and beliefs that shape who we are and how we are each Called to share our gifts and talents in the world. And we need to deepen our relationships with intention. Now I’m not talking about joining more committees or ministries, where we have meetings to attend and tasks to be done. Rather, I’m inviting us to be in intentional one-to-one relational conversations with each other, during which we listen for and draw out the Spirit abiding in one another. It was during an intentional one-to-one relational conversation that I began to discern my Call to parish ministry, as my conversation partner shared his stories about the justice work that he had done in the local church setting. 

And we have the opportunity to have one-to-one relational conversations with those who can’t or don’t or won’t come to a church building on Sunday mornings, and to listen for where Spirit abides in them. What they are longing for? And how can we, as church, partner with them to follow Jesus in new ways, ways that aren’t limited to bringing people into a church building on Sunday mornings? 

When we shift our churches from being transactional to being relational, Spirit can be at work. And when we let Spirit work, we can develop partners in ministry to help us to truly live the prophetic and revolutionary teachings of Jesus, to find new ways to be the hands and feet of Jesus in our community and in our world. The pandemic has given us the opportunity to grab onto change. 

Reverend Dyer concludes his article by saying, “The need for a major pivot is before us, and we know that God will provide for the times and places where we are found. Therefore, let us walk into this valley with eyes wide open, ready to step forward with intention, believing in the presence of the Good Shepherd, the proximity of green pastures, the provided meal amongst adversity, the anointing of our heads, the overflowing of our cups, and our place in the House of the Lord forever.” 

Let us follow the prophetic and revolutionary teachings of Jesus together, in deep relationship with one another, listening for where Spirit is alive in each and every one of us, and seeing in what new ways God is Calling us to Be the Church. 

Rev. Kari Collins (she/her/hers)  

  • Vice Moderator, Casas Adobes UCC, Tucson, AZ 
  • Minister of Stewardship and Philanthropy, Sixth Avenue UCC, Denver, CO 
  • Consultant to churches in the Rocky Mountain Conference UCC on ways to shift from a culture of scarcity in our churches to an expectation of abundance, inviting people to invest in ministry that transforms lives. 

Grieving Well

by Rev. Lynne Hinton, Conference Director, New Mexico Conference of Churches

At a worship service a couple of weeks ago at St. John’s UMC in Albuquerque, visiting preacher Rev. Scott Carpenter spoke about five tasks churches need to accomplish in order to thrive. The first task was to grieve well.

This focus on grief as the first task for a faith community to grow strong surprised me. Having been a hospice chaplain for years, I spend a lot of time and thought regarding grief, regarding loss. I understand the need to honor grief but I had never seriously considered it as a necessary function for communities of faith to thrive. And yet, grief is necessary to move forward. And if we’ve ever needed to grieve in churches, it’s now.

Over 600,000 persons have died in our country from Covid 19. Businesses have closed. Churches have had to shut their doors permanently. Dreams have ended. Suicides and mental illness emergencies are on the rise. And in poorer countries, the pandemic continues to ravage entire populations. We need to grieve what has been lost, what we have lost.

In [his book] RealLivePreacher.com, Pastor Gordon Atkinson writes about going to a mountain church in Colorado as part of his annual family vacation. He goes to the little community church alone and he goes to weep.

He writes, “I cry in their church because I can’t cry in my own. I’m not suggesting that we discourage crying at our church. I’m saying I am not ABLE to cry there. Being in charge shuts something down in me, I think. So every summer in Creede I unpack a year’s worth of sorrow, joy, and wonder.

“I cry in church because it is my time to be served. I’m like the woman who prepares the meals for her family each day. One day she comes home, and her children have prepared a meal for her. She bursts into tears because it’s her turn to receive. It doesn’t mean she wants to stop cooking. It’s just nice that it’s her turn.

“I cry for those reasons, but mostly I cry because at Creede Community Church I can see the truth. Sitting in that simple pew on the back row, I see the Church Universal in all her glory and silliness. The truth is, we are not sophisticated at all. We are nothing more than children, sticking our drawings to the fridge with tiny magnets, offering our best to the heavens on a wing and a prayer. We are precious, but perhaps only in His sight.

“I think messy little boys and girls praying in church must be irresistible to God. When God slows down and licks his fingers to slick down my cowlick, I catch a fleeting glimpse of the hem of his robe.

“And a glimpse is more than enough for me.

“That is the moment of true worship, and I always seem to find it in Creede.

“And in that moment, I cry from pure joy and relief.”

Do you have a place where you can weep? Do you have time set aside in your life to mourn your losses, honor the sorrow you carry, and feel free to let your emotions loose? And do you have a place where you receive, a place where you don’t have to be the faith leader or the pastor holding it together, a place where you can be served and know the loving presence of God?

My hope, of course, is that you do and that you have been there this year, that you have wept in sorrow and relief, and that you have been received, and ultimately that you have known joy. That is my hope for us all.

You are the light of the world.