Are we Still the “Land of the Pilgrim’s Pride”?

by Ken McIntosh

I remember when I was a child and Thanksgiving was all about the Pilgrims. At school we watched “Mouse on the Mayflower” and grainy film reels with the Mayflower II sailing past Plymouth Rock. We made conical Pilgrim hats out of different colors of construction paper and big yellow paper buckles that went on our shoes. At home, Mom always made a ceremony of setting out a large wax sculpture Pilgrim couple—the centerpiece of our table.

Now it seems that Thanksgiving weekend is all about ‘Black Friday’ morning sales and college football. Pilgrims? The Mayflower? Meh…not so much (the exception this year being a pair of revisionist histories on TV).

On previous Thanksgivings I’ve thought that the eclipse of the Plymouth Plantation myth was probably good and merited. For Native people, it was another step toward the end of their relationship with the land. Already wracked by European disease, the treaty that Chief Massasoit made with the Pilgrims ended in the time of that chief’s son Philip; the ‘King Philip’s War’ resulted in over 5,000 deaths, and three-quarters of the slain were Natives.

A decade ago I had a strange experience while visiting Plymouth Plantation. Part of that historical recreation is a Native village staffed by Wampanoag tribespeople who dress in 17th century attire. A visitor to the village addressed one of the Native interpreters and said “You look like just like real Indians.” The man replied, with admirable lack of irritation in his voice “I am a member of the Wampanoag tribe, the original people of this land, who met with the European settlers.” And the tourist said, “Oh, I get it. You’re acting like a real Indian.” The Native interpreter continued to educate the man in a polite manner, but the whole exchange was painful to watch.

More recently, in Flagstaff, my wife was away for the Thanksgiving Holiday and I had to stay for a church function, so a Navajo friend invited me to his sister’s house for turkey dinner. I was the only white person at a large gathering of my host’s extended family, and thus the butt end of good-natured white-people jokes. The irony of it all was not lost on me.

So, considering the sad history of my ancestors’ conquest of this country, celebrating Pilgrim pride didn’t seem like such a brilliant idea. At the same time, it was hard to escape the influence of the Pilgrims once I became the pastor of a Congregational church. Of the 102 settlers who came from Holland on the Mayflower, 35 were members of the Puritan Separatist Church. They fled England where the State Church forbade their manner of worship for refuge in Holland where there was broad religious toleration. Fearing that they would lose their cultural ways, they then chose the risk-filled voyage to New England, a region chosen because they mistakenly believed it to be uninhabited.

Perhaps the most abiding aspect of Pilgrim heritage in the UCC today is part of Pastor John Robinson’s farewell message of 1620, in which he said “if God should reveal anything to you by any other instrument of his, be as ready to receive it as ever you were to receive any truth by my ministry; for I am very confident the Lord has more truth and light yet to break forth out of his holy word.” He clarified by lamenting that Lutherans proscribed their beliefs to the writings of Luther and Calvinists to the writings of Calvin. Today, the UCC is characterized by the phrase “God is still speaking.”

This year, however, I’ve decide that I do want to re-appropriate the Pilgrim story. It has abiding value—or at least value for 2015 and the foreseeable future. I say this for two reasons. First, the story of the Pilgrims and First Nations people of that land cooperating for their mutual benefit is a true one—albeit short-lived. The Wampanoags showed Europeans how to grow crops and survive; Europeans in turn brought crops and technology that was helpful for the Natives.

That peace was short-lived. I think of it like the 1914 Christmas truce in the trenches of WWI. We know that was followed by the hells of Verdun and poison gas attacks, but at least for a brief time it happened and we can still be inspired by that glimmer of peace. Likewise, we have the example of the daring risk that this Native community took by welcoming strange and dubious-seeming people, and trying to seek a future of mutual benefit. At a time when America seems to be growing more xenophobic, this beginning attempt at mutual trust may still serve as a positive example. Their betrayal by our race can also be an abiding cautionary lesson.

But there’s another ‘Pilgrim lesson’ that I had drummed in during grade school, and I think that is the most important lesson of the Mayflower journey for America today. Countless schoolchildren were taught during the 1960s, ‘The Pilgrims came to these shores seeking religious freedom, and that is why we continue to value everyone’s religious freedom.’ That story can be historically critiqued—it may be that the Mayflower Separatists only valued Christian religious freedom, and we know that the Puritan groups who came in succeeding waves were intolerant of religious dissenters in their own ranks. Yet the elementary school lesson was as clear as it was succinct: our ancestors came here because they wanted to worship freely, and we should pass that privilege on to others.

So when, a few years later, I saw a group of men installing our neighbors’ swimming pool, and they all stopped their work at the same time and bowed down on mats and prayed, I was not shy to approach them afterward and ask “Why did you do that?” And when they told me they were Muslims and they prayed toward Mecca five times a day, I said “Neat!” Up to that point my experience of religious diversity was Methodists, Lutherans, Unitarians…and one Jew. But I was happy to see a new kind of religion in my town…part of an unfolding story of religious freedom that defined us as Americans.

I have to wonder; all these people wanting to refuse new neighbors because they came from another culture and they might follow a different religion: were they not told the story of the Pilgrims? If they were told the same American legend that I received, they somehow missed the whole point.

“Land of the pilgrims’ pride,
From ev’ry mountainside
Let freedom ring!”
…for everyone who wants to live in safety, and to worship as they please. Let it ring!

Photo is with permission of my publisher Anamchara Books

Living in Sodom

by Tyler Connoley

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how similar my country is to Sodom. However, not for the reasons you might think.

We remember Sodom as the town that hated strangers so much they almost raped and killed two angels who came to visit. They also threatened Lot, Abraham’s nephew and a recent immigrant. In the Biblical narrative, the Sodomites are the ultimate xenophobes, intent on secure borders, threatening monstrous acts against those they should have been welcoming.

(Note: If you think the story of Sodom has to do with gay sex, please go and read Genesis 19. You can also read the book I coauthored with Jeff Miner about homosexuality and the Bible.

What we forget is why the Sodomites might have been so afraid of strangers. For that story, you have to go back to Genesis 14. In that story, we’re told the kings of Sodom were convinced to join a coalition of the willing, including neighbor Gomorrah and three other cities, in an attack on the cities of the north. However, the battle was actually a wild goose chase (or maybe a trap?). When the kings were away, the northern armies swept into Sodom and Gomorrah, ransacked the cities, raped women and children and men, and carried everyone off as slaves. Since this is our sacred Scripture, we mostly remember this as the time our hero Abraham saved the day by rescuing his nephew Lot — along with all the other Sodomites who were captured — and all ended well.

The happy ending, hides the trauma that preceded it. All of the people of Sodom found themselves carried off and brutalized. Who knows how many died? Who knows what they suffered? Who knows how they continued to carry the trauma of that event for years after?

Genesis 14 is the story of Sodom’s 9/11.

Now, we understand why the people of Sodom would act the way they did in Genesis 19, when two strangers came to their city and ended up staying at the house of that newcomer Lot. When we read the story, we see two angels and our hero Abraham’s nephew. The people of Sodom saw a possible spy ring or a potential terrorist cell. Knowing that, we can see how they thought they were justified in the way they treated these threatening strangers.

This is why I compare the United States to Sodom. Living in this country, I’m well-acquainted with an atmosphere of fear and trauma that leads people to condone terrible acts. The story of Sodom is a warning to us when we slam our doors to refugees, or condone extra-judicial drone strikes, or cheer on war, or yawn at the thought of Guantanamo Bay, or accept any manner of evil because we’re afraid of another 9/11 and think our government needs to keep us safe.

The Sodomites were not monsters. They were people like you and me. I’m sure they had lovely houses, and above-average children, but that’s not what we remember them for. We remember that they let their fear and trauma get the best of them, and they did monstrous things as a result. Let’s learn from their lesson, and not be Sodomites.

 

Why I Need You to Survive

by Davin Franklin-Hicks

Last week was awkward and hard. It really was. It was one of the weeks where nothing seemed to synch up for me. From attempting to greet an acquaintance with a hug, but instead elbowing them in the nose to forgetting about a meeting I was supposed to be at while I was just chilling at home as though I hadn’t a care in the world. I set my alarm for 6pm instead of 6am not once, but twice. I woke up with this pit in my stomach and sense of dread, but it wasn’t connected to any thought. It just constantly felt like something was wrong and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I wasn’t the only one feeling this way last week. I have two friends that I talk to every single day over text regardless of rain or shine. Sometimes it is lengthy, sometimes it’s short, but we always connect. As I texted my, sometimes humorous, often complaining texts to them last week, I received very similar responses. Each of us said at some point, “What the heck is going on? Is something in the air?” Nothing was synching up.

I was avoiding things that week. I was eating less, not much of an appetite. I was walking under a plume of strangeness without knowing why. I caught myself walking very quickly through my living room as I came home, a sense of urgency to get into another room. I noticed it and wondered what the heck was wrong with me. Why am I feeling compelled to avoid so much? I walked back into my living room and realized the source of anxiety was the TV. It was the news anchor. It was the images. It was the terror in the world.

And I cried.

This thick pall that I was in the midst of was the sense of helplessness in the face of unimaginable suffering. I felt shame for the human race. I felt absolute rage for the vulnerability that is exploited and crushed. I was avoiding the pain of living in this world. There isn’t even a starting place that makes sense to me to begin to hold what is happening in the world around me. So I check out entirely. And when I do, I step out of the flow of life. My fears increase, my reasoning decreases. I am ill-tempered and checked out. I am withdrawn. All of this leads to me living out of synch.

My pastor, Rev. Delle McCormick, said something incredibly profound the Sunday after the attacks in Beirut and in Paris. She used the phrase “unsettled ache” repeatedly in her sermon and that resonated very strongly with me. The reality is I am impacted by all of this pain and violence in the world. The reality is you are too. Even if we are avoiding knowledge of it or attempting to distract, it is the thing that greets us when there is a quiet moment. It’s just on the edge of our awareness more often than not and it impacts the way we interact with the world around us.

My starting point to engage in the world again was the awareness of this very simple point: you impact me and I impact you. We do not exist in a vacuum. We do not live the individual lives that we are constantly trying to tell ourselves we are living. This is a global community.

We say something to each other at Rincon Congregational UCC that I have never said to anyone before. Often after service, during the benediction, we are encouraged to look at one another and say, “I need you to survive”. Regardless of what word you put the emphasis on in that statement, it is true and powerful. I need for you, my dear one, to survive. I also need you, my dear one, for my own survival. We are connected. It is unsettling. It is life.

image credit: Roy DeLeon

 

Syrian Refugees and the Teaching of Jesus

by Ryan Gear

At last count, 30 governors, 29 Republicans and one Democrat, have issued statements that they will not allow Syrian refugees to settle in their states. Never mind that governors probably don’t have the power to enforce state borders, their statements have come under fire from many, including evangelicals who usually support conservative political leaders.

Why?

Because this latest example of xenophobia conflicts with the details of Jesus’ life a little too closely.

First, Jesus and his parents were Middle Eastern refugees. The nativity scene, after all, is about a Middle Eastern family looking for a place to stay. Matthew tells us that after his birth, Mary and Joseph fled with the baby Jesus to Egypt. Turning away refugee families right before we put up Christmas decorations is too ironic even for those who often miss the irony of their political views and professed faith.

Second, Jesus gives an ominous description of the Last Judgment in Matthew 25 that directly speaks to the issue of welcoming the foreigner. In Matthew 25:40, Jesus declares, “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”

Conversely, “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ “Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

While one could argue over the definition of “brothers and sisters,” Jesus is known for universalizing the love of neighbor. It is perhaps one of Jesus’ unique contributions to moral teaching in human history. In his depiction of the Last Judgment, Jesus is the King, and He clearly states that how we treat who He calls “the least of these brothers and sisters of mine” is how we treat Him.

Who are “the least of these?”

In verse 28, we learn that one category of “the least of these” is the “stranger.” How does Jesus define “stranger?” Matthew was originally written in Greek, and the Greek word that we translate as stranger is xenos. Xenos can be translated into English as “foreigner, immigrant, or stranger.”

In other words, when we don’t welcome the foreigner, Jesus takes it personally.

Let us acknowledge that even though it’s an unpopular thought in 21st century America, Jesus says that those who reject “the least of these” will face eternal punishment. Needless to say, that statement should give pause to all of those who claim to follow Jesus Christ, yet quickly reject the stranger.

We are wise, of course, to ask questions about public safety and the possibility of terrorists embedding themselves within refugee groups. I understand the apprehension that some feel who are sincerely concerned about the safety of U.S. citizens, and I do not dismiss their concerns as trivial. There is another view, however, for us to consider.

In addition to Jesus’ warning about the afterlife, conceivably there are earthly consequences to not welcoming the stranger. Perhaps not welcoming refugees would create more terrorists who would seek to harm the United States. Turning away families in their time of need could prove to be a powerful recruiting tool for ISIS. If a mother and father seeking a safe land for their children are denied hospitality, they will not feel goodwill towards the country that rejected them. Furthermore, if their children were to die because of hardship, why would be surprised if grieving parents were to act in revenge?

Finally, one could easily make an argument that rejecting the refugees allows the terrorists to win. Their most powerful weapon is, well, terror. If we fear an attack so intensely that we are willing to deny hospitality to refugee children, who could argue that the terrorists haven’t won? Not only have they taken human lives, they will have succeeded in taking away our humanity.

Many Christians, including conservative evangelicals, realize that Jesus speaks clearly on this matter. No matter how many governors claim there is no room in the inn, the teaching of Jesus is simply too relevant to the current situation for Christians to ignore.

…Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness

by Dr. Don Fausel

Back in the 1960s, I was the director of a summer camp for girls in the beautiful Adirondack Mountains in New York State.  For eight weeks, a hundred and fifty campers would have three meals a day in the “mess hall”, and at every meal they’d sing:  

If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands, clap, clap, if you’re happy and you know it then your life will surely show it, if you’re happy and you know it clap your hands, clap, clap.

I suspect that some of you might know the other verses. The song went from clapping your hands to stamping your feet, then your knees and on and on.  Well, it seemed to keep the campers happy, but that’s not the type of happiness we are going to pursue in this blog. Not that there’s anything wrong with frivolous happiness, but that’s not what Thomas Jefferson had in mind when he wrote The Declaration of Independence.

My last blog, Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Stuff, described how “our obsession with Stuff is trashing the planet, our communities, and our health.” This blog will focus on Sustainable Happiness.  Before we look at the Science of Happiness, I found it nostalgic and beneficial to briefly recall the ancient philosophers who were grappling with the concept of happiness over two thousand years ago.

First there was Socrates, a Greek philosopher and scientist who lived between 469-399 BCE.  He held a unique place in the history of happiness…as he was first known to argue that happiness is actually attainable through human effort“. He was also known for saying, that he was convinced that “…the unexamined life is not worth living”. Oh, and yes, there was the “Socratic method” (a process of questioning designed to expose lack of knowledge and clear the way to knowledge). The price he paid for his honest search for truth was death. He was convicted of corruption of youth and sentenced to die by Hemlock poisoning.

Aristotle lived between 384-322 BCE and was a student of Plato.  He is considered to be one of the greatest thinkers in the history of western science and philosophy.

One of his most influential works is the Nicomachean Ethics, where he presents a theory of happiness that is still relevant today, over 2,300 years later. The major question that he seeks to answer is what is the ultimate purpose of human existence? Aristotle’s answer is “that nearly everyone would agree that happiness is the end which meets all the requirements”.

Epicurus (341-270 BCE) was considered a renowned figure in the history of science and philosophy. He believed that “…the most pleasant life is one where we abstain from unnecessary desires and achieve an inner tranquility by being content with simple things”. His position was that our beliefs should only be those that could be verified by empirical evidence.

True to his philosophy, Epicuris spent the last few days of his life in pleasure. Although he was physically sick, he wrote this letter of his friend Idomeneus:  

I have written this letter to you on a happy day to me, which is also the last day of my life. For I have been attacked by a painful inability to urinate, and also dysentery, so violent that nothing can be added to the violence of suffering. But the cheerfulness of my mind, which comes from the recollection of all my philosophical contemplation, counterbalanced all these afflictions. And I beg of you to take care of the children of Metrodorus, in a manner worthy of the devotion shown by the young  man to me, and to philosophy.”

Even in one of the most miserable conditions I can picture, instead of dwelling on his pain, he is able to achieve happiness.

Moving forward to the present era, John Locke lived between 1632-1704 CE. He was a major English philosopher, whose political texts, “…helped paved the way for the French and American revolutions. He coined the phrase ‘pursuit of happinessin his book An Essay Concerning Human UnderstandingThomas Jefferson took the phrase and included it in the people’s inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness in the Declaration of Independence.

Locke writes:  “The necessity of pursuing happiness is the foundation of liberty. As therefore the highest perfection of intellectual nature lies in a careful and constant pursuit of true and solid happiness; so the care of ourselves, that we mistake not imaginary for real happiness, is the necessary foundation of our liberty. The stronger ties we have to an unalterable pursuit of happiness in general, which is our greatest good, and which, as such, our desires follow, the more are we free from any necessary determination of our will to any particular action…”.

Buddhist Monk and the Secret of Happiness

Matthieu Ricard is French writer and Buddhist monk. He has a Ph.D. in molecular genetics from the Pasteur Institute under French Nobel Laureate Francois Jacob. After completing his doctoral degree in 1972 he gave up his scientific career and concentrated on the practice of Tibetan Buddhism. He is the author of several books on Buddhism, including a dialogue with his father, Jean-Francois Revel entitled The Monk and the Philosopher, which was a bestseller in Europe and translated into twenty-one languages.  He has been called the “happiest person in the world” by the media. He also volunteered as a subject in a study at the University of Wisconsin-Madison on happiness, and scored above the average of hundreds of hundreds of volunteers. Here is one of his numerous TED Talks, entitled The Habits of Happiness

The Science of Happiness

Martin Seligman was one of the first psychologists to convince his colleagues to investigate more positive moods with the same enthusiasm which they had for pathologies. At that time, in the late 1990s, there were only 40 books published on happiness. In 2008 alone, 4000 books were published on happiness. Seligman is credited “… as the father of Positive Psychology and its efforts to scientifically explore human potential. In his book Authentic Happiness (2002 p. 61) he explains his three dimensions of happiness: 1) pleasure and gratification, 2) embodiment of strengths and virtues, 3) meaning and purpose. Here is an article where he explains each dimension and gives much more information about positive psychology and happiness, than a blog can offer.

I also think this TED Talk by Seligman entitled The New Era of Positive Psychology will be helpful.

Shalom!

Slow Churches in the Lead

by Amos Smith

I just finished reading Slow Church: Cultivating Community in the Patient Way of Jesus by C. Christopher Smith and John Pattison (much of the writing below is paraphrased from the book’s Introduction).

The authors of Slow Church explain that the industrial revolution made us obsessed with speed—fast cars, fast food, fast computers, and “the fast track.” In resistance to this, an international “Slow Food” movement arose. The Slow Food movement has inspired other Slow campaigns. Cittaslow (Slow Cities) was launched by a group of Italian mayors in 1990 and now includes more than 140 communities in twenty-three countries, which are committed to sustainable agriculture, local food cultivation, local land use, and hospitality.

Other manifestations of wanting to down shift sometimes, rather than stay in high gear, are Slow Gardening, Slow Parenting, Slow Reading, Slow Design, and Slow Art. There is even a World Slow Day, which some playful Italians recently celebrated by issuing fake citations to pedestrians who were walking too fast or taking too direct a route.

Canadian journalist Carl Honore describes “the cult of speed.” Fast and slow, Honore writes, do not just signify rates of change; they are shorthand for ways of being, or philosophies of life.

“Fast is busy, controlling, aggressive, hurried, analytical, stressed, superficial, impatient, active, quantity-over-quality. Slow is the opposite: calm, careful, receptive, still, intuitive, unhurried, patient, reflective, quality-over-quantity. It is about making real and meaningful connections—with people, culture, work, food, everything.” (pg. 13)

Many church growth models come dangerously close to reducing Christianity to a commodity that can be packaged, marketed, and sold, instead of cultivating a deep, holistic discipleship that touches every aspect of our lives.

“Following Jesus has been diminished to a privatized faith rather than a lifelong apprenticeship undertaken in the context of Christian community.” (pg. 14)

Congratulations to churches that foster sustainable community that is primarily about relationship to God and relationships with each other. Congratulations to churches that understand that the quality of relationships is more important than the numbers of bodies in the chairs on Sunday and the number of dollars in savings.

Consistency in the Spiritual Life

by Amanda Peterson

As I watch TV shows on parenting or even raising pets the most common challenge that I notice is inconsistency.  Parents (myself included) know the importance of follow-through and a consistent message. Then there are the times, due to tiredness, guilt, or for some other reason, the consistency stops.  The behavior increases and surprised the questions comes, “How did this get so bad?”  I am currently working with my dog, Grace, who does not have good manners with other dogs.  This is a polite way of saying she overwhelms them with her energy and if they are not a strong dog bedlam ensues.  I now live in a neighborhood that has lots of dogs and she is getting lots of practice learning how to say hello.

Consistency in the Spiritual Life
Consistency, or a cookie?

The reality is that I am the problem, not Grace.  I need to be honest about that and if I care about Grace, I will do what is best for her, not for me. I need to work with Grace.  I have tried using one technique or another and guess what…as time goes on it gets better.  Yet I find myself some days just wishing she wouldn’t be so aggressive and then pretending all is well now.  Wishing and pretending doesn’t help.  I can’t ignore it one day and expect a different result.

As I was thinking about this, I notice a similar pattern in my prayer life and in the prayer lives of others.  Why does God seem so far away?  Why does something that used to be so easy now feel overwhelming?   The spiritual life takes just as much consistency as anything else that is important to us.   We can’t expect to pay attention, develop a relationship with the Divine one day and then not pay attention the next day and expect a deep spiritual life.  The spiritual life takes just as much consistency as anything else and honestly some days it is really hard work to show up.  That is why community support is so important.

A contemplative life is an honest life and a consistent life.  Not necessarily to the same practices in the same way every day.  It is a consistency in the choice to show up to a relationship with God.  It’s that easy and that hard.

Exercise

What is your spiritual practice? Are you consistent or does it go in stops and starts.  Pick a spiritual practice and try to be consistent for 2 weeks.  How did it go?  If it didn’t, why?  Do you need a different practice?

A Rat Pack Sabbath

by Ryan Gear

In July 2012, I was blessed to take a ten-day trip to Israel, and our tour group spent the Sabbath in Jerusalem. The Jewish tour guides on our bus dropped us off at our hotel on Friday evening, the beginning of the seventh day.

On the way to our hotel, our tour guide said, “Let’s turn on some Sabbath music.” I expected a dirge, something completely depressing, something that said, “Thou may no longer buy beer for 24 hours.” That was not, however, the music that fit the mood.

He turned on the tour bus radio, and the song began, “Da da da da da, Start spreadin’ the news.” It was Sinatra. Not exactly what I expected, and that was excellent. He explained, “On the Sabbath, we listen to relaxing music.” On that day at least, Sabbath music in Jerusalem was Rat Pack music.

He clarified further that Sabbath means “to stop, to cease.” It means to stop working and enjoy life without work for one day each week. He told us that he was going to go home, light candles, and enjoy dinner with his family. His kids and grandkids were coming over for dinner. They would say Sabbath prayers, talk about their week, play games, and have fun. His definition of the Sabbath is a day to enjoy life with your loved ones.

When we got back to our hotel, we discovered that a group of Ultra-Orthodox Jews had rented a ballroom with their families and were dancing and partying on the Sabbath. This wasn’t what observing the Sabbath looked like where I grew up in Ohio. When they were done, the hotel looked like Def Leppard had trashed the place.

In Jerusalem, the Sabbath is a weekly vacation day— a fun, relaxing, 24-hour celebration with the people you love. It’s not observed out of a sense of duty so much as it is anticipated and enjoyed. This makes sense for Christians too. In Mark 2:27, Jesus says, “Humanity wasn’t made for the Sabbath. The Sabbath was made for the benefit of humanity.”

Once or twice a week, my four-year old son and I walk to our mailbox to get the mail together. In our subdivision, our mailbox is about 200 yards down the street. If I walk to get the mail alone it takes me five minutes. When my son and I go together, it takes four times that long.

Our neighbors have some bushes next to the sidewalk. So, my son takes a few steps out of our yard, and then he stops to smell the bushes. There are no roses on the bushes. They’re just bushes, but he stops to smell them. Then we take a few more steps, and he stops to crouch down to watch some ants walk across the sidewalk. Then he takes a few more steps until he hears a birdie. He stops to listen for where the birdie is, and then he watches the birdie. Then we take a few more steps, and he hears a doggie bark. He stops to see where the doggie is. He explains to me that “Doggies say ‘woof woof.'” Then we take a few more steps, and so on.

Now that he’s four, he wants to “explore” the culvert where water runs off the street and into the rocks. We walk along the rocks and watch for bugs. Taking a few steps off the street magically turns us both into Indiana Jones.

He is absolutely filled with wonder, and he starts and stops according to whatever interests him. Then, eventually, after stopping and starting several times, somewhere along that fun, wonder-and-awe-filled journey… we get the mail.

Children do what comes naturally to humans. What if it really is hardwired into the human brain to live according to a rhythm, a rhythm of working and then stopping, and then working and then stopping?

We have lots of sayings to express this. We say, “The joy is in the journey” or “Life’s a journey, not a destination,” or “Take time to smell the roses.” I read an article recently finding that employees who have a little bit of downtime in their day are more productive. Go figure. We all know we need more rest.

Many people in our workaholic culture feel like soulless machines, pressured to stay late and expected to not take all of their vacation. That’s not what it means to be human. Sabbath means that you can take control of your life and live life to the fullest, not as a production line machine, but as a real live human being. The Sabbath empowers you to be more than your job and more than money.

So, let me ask you, are you overly busy, trying to accomplish more than you’re physically or emotionally able to do? Are you spending more time at work than what is healthy for your family? Are you a people pleaser, over-committing by saying yes when you should say no? How good would it feel to stop, and take a vacation day once per week?

That is the primary meaning of the first creation story in Genesis:

“Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array. By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.

The two creation accounts of Genesis do not explain the scientific origin of the universe, but they do convey a world of wisdom, wisdom that continually coaxes our evolution into more whole creatures.

The seven-day creation poem was likely inspired by parents trying to teach their children why they observe a weekly Sabbath day. Egyptians had a 10-day week. The Babylonians may have observed a monthly Sabbath on the new moon. Israelite parents had to explain to their kids why their schedule was different than everyone else’s.

Do you weekly remind your children to stop and enjoy life and each other? Sometimes a health problem tells us that it’s time to live a more balanced life. Sometimes our time-starved families remind us. Sometimes, in our more reflective moments, we clearly see the truth expressed by Frederick Buechner, “There are people who use up their entire lives making money so they can enjoy the lives they have entirely used up.”

Maybe this blog post is another reminder that you have nothing to prove. As we read in Genesis 1, you’re created in the image and likeness of God. You have dignity and worth because of that, alone, before you lift a finger do any work. Our Creator has given us a rhythm for experiencing the good life, a rhythm of working and resting, working and resting, working and resting. We’re created to be more than machines.

The Sabbath gives you permission to be human.

Your Hyphens

by Karen Richter

I am a woman-wife-mother-introvert.

multiple religious belonging - intersectionality
Whooo are you?

I am a democrat-progressive-child advocate.

I am a Christian-universalist-meditator-educator.

We all have many layers of our identity, different roles emphasized at different times or in different settings.

Later today at Shadow Rock UCC, people interested in the idea of people identifying with more than one religious tradition will be gathering.  Some will be folks who themselves identify as Christian-Buddhist or church-attending Jew or Muslim-Christian or Sikh-Wiccan.  Other participants will be religious leaders who want to prepare their faith communities to better meet people of faith who claim a variety of backgrounds.  Some – like me – will be curious and eager, coming with questions and assumptions about what this might mean to the future of faith.

Yesterday, I saw a video online about a Palestinian woman who is striving to be an active participant in the struggle for Palestinian identity and liberation as a woman.  Activists often call this ‘intersectionality.’ I found this definition (thanks Google!) of intersectionality quickly, but I didn’t really need it.  It’s one of those things that you know when you see it.

Intersectionality (or intersectionalism) is the study of intersections between forms or systems of oppression, domination or discrimination by examining the complex multiple facets of identity of an individual such as race, gender, class, sex and age.

My best understanding of intersectionality is that society often appears to ask people to choose and prioritize from among their identities.  Are you advocating for families or union workers?  Are you representing African-Americans or women?  Intersectionality pushes back against this phenomenon, instead recognizing that people crave space to be their whole selves… bringing every bit of their identities and experiences to bear on issues and decisions.

So, why are we even a little bit surprised when this idea of wholeness and recognition and valuing unique experiences breaks into religious communities?  Maybe a Christian-Hindu should surprise and challenge us no more than a Native American feminist.  Don’t we want churches to be places where people can be their whole selves and be welcomed?  Don’t we want more genuine people in the world?

These kinds of developments remind me that as a species we are still growing, maturing, evolving.  It’s exasperating!  And it makes me hopeful for the future.

The gathering begins at lunch today.  Join the conversation.

Noah as Metaphor

by Q. Gerald Roseberry

When I was a kid growing up in Georgia, in a small village outside Atlanta, my parents were leaders in a small fundamentalist congregation. All six of us kids attended the Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. One of the things I enjoyed most about those early educational experiences was the teachers’ use of “flannel graph” art as a teaching aid in illuminating the Bible stories. Pictures of people and significant objects in the story backed with flannel adhered to a lightweight board covered with flannel which helped make the story come to life.

One of the stories I loved was “Noah and the Flood.” So I was fascinated to hear that Hollywood was producing a movie on the subject, and I intended to see it. Unfortunately I was unable to see the movie. Many years ago I stopped believing that the stories were literally true. In my imagination, however, I would like to have a heart-to-heart conversation with Noah. The really big question I would ask Noah is, why did God send such a terrible flood to destroy the people and animals and everything else in the land where you lived? But, of course, my interview with Noah doesn’t go well because we live in such different worlds. Everything is different. They are said to have lived unbelievably long lives, such as Noah’s 950 years. Different times, cultures, languages. Even to talk of faith and beliefs would be a difficult at best.

Setting aside a preoccupation with all the species of animals, birds, and insects being rounded up and adequately housed as totally impossible, I am left with the most important question of all: Why did God send such a terrible flood to totally destroy people, animals, and everything in the land were Noah lived? The ancient text gives the explanation:

God saw that human evil was out of control. People thought evil, imagined evil, evil, evil from morning to night. God was sorry that he had made the human race. . .it broke his heart. God said, “I’ll get rid of my ruined creation, make a clean sweep: people, animals, snakes, bugs and birds—the works.” – Eugene Peterson’s translation, The Message, chapters 6-7.

So what can we learn from Noah’s story? One possible lesson is that when human beings forget their origin in God’s creation, neglect their responsible stewardship of the earth, God’s gift, and forsake their due care for one another, then bad consequences follow. Pope Francis, a scientist himself, has caught the attention of the world, and one thing he said reverberates in our thoughts: “Destroy the earth, and the earth will destroy us.” In his encyclical, On Care for Our Common Home, Laudato Si, he referred to “integral ecology” which means that everything on earth is connected, and implies that our actions can and do upset the delicate balance of our environment, disrupting the intricate web of life supporting everything existing on earth.

 The Psalmist says in Psalm 24, “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world and those who dwell therein. For it was He who founded it upon the seas and planted it firm upon the waters beneath.” Poetic to be sure, but it points to our problem: we have forgotten that earth is not ours to do with as we please. We mortals hold the earth in trust for future generations. In one way or another, we have participated in bringing the earth to the point of rebelling and crying out against the harmful effects of hubris and technology which destroy human community, and disrupt, poison, and pollute the oceans, our atmosphere, water, and soil. This, I venture to say, is the world-destroying “evil” which has brought us to this critical point in human history.
The nations of the world, their leaders and representatives, will meet in early December in Paris to make commitments to reduce and eliminate greenhouse gases from their combustible energy systems. Solutions are at hand. We need to find the political will and the moral courage to apply them. Obviously, the change cannot be overnight, but we must act now with all deliberate speed in ways that enable the essential transitional changes to begin and continue without undue obstruction. That meeting of the nations should be in the prayers of every community of faith and in the hearts of all believers, beginning now and continuing until a just and healing solution is reached.