Category: community

The Owls, The Holy One, and Me

by Jane Jones

(A prayer for anyone who feels sadness at this time)

As I write this (in the pre-dawn of a wintery day), I hear the dialogue of two owls close to my home; two different voices, quietly calling back and forth.  What a blessing, to be in a space where this is even possible!

I’m grateful for my home and what it brings to me in terms of peacefulness and escape from the outside world where the busy-ness abounds, and where some of my former life remains without me.

I need to keep reminding myself that I’m in a good place…that being on my own isn’t horrible…that I’m loved and included, if not by a family that once filled my life with joy, then by many dear, generous (and patient!) friends who know me well – and love me anyhow.  That, too, is a major blessing…a blessing I need to remember and be thankful for.

This is the holiday season, and, as it does for so many others,  it has again brought me deep sadness that I’m struggling with.

All the ugly questions (why, why, why???) pop into my head randomly while the Christmas music in the stores offers triggers galore, and my head and heart are more than willing to respond to them.  I step in-and-out of a dark space where much about this time hurts me, and my first instinct is to hide in this funny little house and tell all these days of “joy” to move on.  They aren’t listening; these days don’t seem to fly by like the less-focused, supposedly “lazy days” of summer do.

So, in the darkness of predawn as my owl friends call to one another, I call out to You, Holy One.

I lie in my bed and pray to the overhead fan, knowing that you’re there, waiting to hear me. Often, there are tears to remind me that this time of remembering can cleanse my soul…sometimes, I even laugh when I think of something I said or did that was just so dumb. 

But mostly, I pray for Peace, for my own heart and for so many other hearts who are not loving this time of year. 

I pray for Peace, for anyone who needs a little glimpse of It this day – any day. 

I pray for Peace, for a world full of people who are in much worse life-space than I am. 

And I pray for Peace-full acts, that those who lead will consider consequences to the innocent, living in way too many horrible circumstances beyond my control or understanding. 

I pray to You, Holy One, and we share my dark heart, my dark bedroom and a welcoming, dark silence of prayer, knowing that later, you will show yourself to me in little ways.  You always do.

So, like the owls calling to one another, I wait for your response, and I crawl out of bed to begin the day again – with Hope, with more inner Peace, with Love.

Thanks.

That Was Me

The Church of the Palms used the following litany, written by Rev. Max Klinkenborg, at the dedication of the “Homeless Jesus” sculpture on Saturday, November 18, 2023.

Jesus said, ”I’m telling the solemn truth; whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me – you did it unto me.” Matthew 25:40

Leader: Once I saw a man eating from a buffet of leftovers in a dumpster.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I smelled the urine soaked clothes of an old women wearing two coats on a city bus.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I saw a frozen body covered in snow with no coat, hat, shoes or gloves.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I saw a man fall to the street; his shoes were stolen before he could get up.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I heard the screams of a man set on fire in a dumpster for stealing drugs.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I felt the despair of a man turned away on a cold night from an overcrowded shelter.

All: That was Me.

Leader: Once I saw a woman on a bike pulling two carriers filled with her earthly possession.

All: That was Me.

Leader: Once I heard a person arguing with themself at full volume as they pushed a grocery cart.

All: That was Me.

Leader: Once I gagged at an infected blister under a blood soaked sock on the sole of a woman’s foot.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I wept as I saw a boy and his sister eating ketchup on crackers, alone in a restaurant.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I saw three adults, four children and a dog sleeping in a minivan.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I heard a shivering man in a wheel chair, stuck in snow, calling to no avail for help.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I saw a man asleep on a park bench covered by newspaper.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I smelled burning flesh when a woman fell on a steel grate in August and no one helped her get up.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I sent Christmas cards to a woman’s prison; a woman thanked me later for her only card or gift.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I heard a bone-rattling cough from a pile of rags holding a blood soaked rag to her mouth.

All: That was Me!

Recycling Old Blood

by Rev. John Indermark, written the day before the Hamas attack on Israel, and the crisis that has resulted

After Pilate attempted to deny his responsibility for putting Jesus to death, Matthew 27:25 records this: “Then the people as a whole answered, His blood be on us and on our children!” No other gospel records those words, only Matthew. But whatever reasons may have first led to their inclusion in Matthew and nowhere else, those words spawned disastrous consequences in the wholesale smearing of Jews as Christ-killers and the rise of anti-Semitism.

The history of the Church’s active role in promoting anti-Semitism goes back at least to the time of the Crusades, when several massacres of Jews took place not in the battlegrounds of the Holy Land but in the homelands of Germany and France. While we may delight to the music of Fiddler on the Roof, its historical setting involved the violent pogroms that victimized Jewish communities in Eastern Europe and Russia. In the background of all these and other persecutions was a twisted lie known as “blood libel” – the claim that Christian boys were slaughtered so their blood could be used in secret Jewish rituals. Too often, the Church kept silent in the face of the lie – or worse yet, promoted it.

The power of that lie, and its association with “blood,” infested 20th century fascism. In 1930, the same year he joined the Nazi party in Germany, Richard Darre wrote a book whose title in English is A New Nobility Based on Blood and Soil. Darre, whose field was agriculture and eugenics, argued in it for a program of selective breeding (the blood part of the title) to insure Nordic and Aryan racial purity. And once again, except for the courageous witness of a small Christian movement known as the Confessing Church, much of the rest of the Church remained silent as Aryan purity transitioned from far-fetched ideas into concentration camps not only for Jews, but also for others deemed unfit – Gypsies, Gays, Slavs, the infirm, Bonhoeffer.

So why bring this up in a 21st century church newsletter? The leading presidential candidate for one of our nation’s parties made the following statement this week about migrants and immigration: “It is a very sad thing for our country. It’s poisoning the blood of our country.” Sound familiar? It is not an accident, and it is deadly serious.

Poisoning the blood. Its origins in anti-Semitism stretch now to include whoever is the stranger, the other, the outsider. We have seen its results before. In the past, too often, the Church has stood silent in such times, and the world suffered. We cannot do so again. Never again.

The Power of Listening

How the simple act of listening furthers the creation of God’s beloved community

by Christopher Schouten, Black Mountain UCC

Though many of us (including me) have grown up and spent much of our lives around others that look and behave very much like we do, in our ever-diverse world, the tapestry of human experiences is intricate and varied in ways we sometimes can’t even imagine. As Christians, we are called to navigate this tapestry with love, grace, and a willingness to listen and learn. Indeed, the act of listening is at the heart of true understanding, especially when we are confronted with stories and realities that are different from our own.

The Bible emphasizes the importance of listening time and time again. James 1:19 reminds us, “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” Proverbs 1:5 says, “Let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance.” The importance of these verses lies not just in the act of listening but in the transformative power it holds. Author Steven Covey said “Seek first to understand, then to be understood,” and this requires us to listen.

Especially in our diverse society, there are many situations in which we are called to listen.

Dialogues on racial justice demand our full attention and our ears. While the narratives of racial disparity and systemic injustice may be uncomfortable for many, listening to them is essential for fostering the change that brings equality to all God’s people. We must remember the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), a story that emphasizes the love for one’s neighbor, regardless of racial or cultural differences. By listening to the experiences of our Black, Asian, Indigenous, Pacific Islander and Latino brothers and sisters and allowing them to transform our understanding of unjust, structural racism in our society, we get closer to fulfilling Christ’s call to love unconditionally.

Genesis 1:27 tells us, “God created humankind in God’s own image.” This means that people of all genders reflect God’s image. Our society is rife with gender biases and rigid gender norms, often causing hurt and misunderstanding. To bridge the gap, it becomes imperative to listen to the experiences of people of all gender identities, acknowledging their pains, struggles, and victories, thus appreciating the full spectrum of God’s creation and helping us to grow into wholeness and community.

Heteronormativity, the belief that heterosexuality and everything that is associated with it is the norm, is another area where listening is crucial. Jesus, in Matthew 19:12, speaks of eunuchs who have become so from birth, created by men, and by choice, urging us to accept those for whom marriage, in the traditional sense, isn’t for them. The experiences and the lives of LGBTQ+ people are often very different from other people – often in ways that aren’t immediately visible. By listening to LGBTQ+ stories, we begin to see the breadth and depth of God’s creation and the different forms that love and family can take in the world.

The road to understanding is not always comfortable. There will be moments when the stories we hear will shake us, make us confront difficult personal material, or challenge our worldviews. But it is in these moments of discomfort that growth occurs. Christ, too, often found himself in uncomfortable situations, whether dining with tax collectors or speaking with Samaritan women. His example reminds us that transformation often begins at the edge of our comfort zones.

As members of the United Church of Christ, we have chosen to be a people that provide an extravagant welcome to all, as Christ did. In Romans 15:7, Paul urges, “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.” This acceptance starts with listening.

It is through the act of truly listening that we pave the way for understanding, empathy, and love. Let us commit ourselves to listen actively and then really HEAR what the other person is saying and let it impact our hearts, even when it challenges us. For it is through these challenges that we inch closer to a world that embodies Christ’s vision: a world filled with love, justice, acceptance, and unity; God’s beloved community.

Standing on Their Shoulders

by The Reverend Dr. Kristina “Tina” Campbell, Black Mountain United Church of Christ

I am standing on the shoulders of the ones who came before me.

I am stronger for their courage, I am wiser for their words.

I am lifted by their longing for a fair and brighter future

I am grateful for their vision, for their toiling on this Earth.

-Joyce Rouse

Last weekend commemorated the sixtieth anniversary of the March on Washington where The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his now famous “I Have a Dream” speech.  Many of the organizers of the march were recognized and honored, and we had an opportunity to pause and ponder… upon whose shoulders do we stand?

I entered the ministry due to the influence of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.  At the time his life was coming to a close, I was living in an all African American community as a VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America) volunteer.  I clung to the words of Dr. King, and was utterly taken aback by the influence he had on the lives around me.  He influenced people to be brave, to have hope, to take action, to live out their faith, to move beyond restriction into liberation.  On the day of his death, I stood beside grown men who openly wept at the loss of this great soul.  I wanted to stand on the shoulders of The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

When I first moved to Phoenix, I was looking for a church, and one of my colleagues at St. Luke’s Hospital said to me, “If you want to go where they’re doing something, go talk with Don Heinrich.”  Don was the long time pastor at Shepherd of the Hills United Church of Christ, and Don was in the crowd in Washington, D.C. when Dr. King articulated his vision of a dream.  Don carried  the momentum of Dr. King’s dream in the Phoenix area.  Don stood firmly on all social issues, but he did more than that.  He suited up and he showed up for his congregation.  He showed up to receive the Peggy Goldwater Award for Reproductive Rights, and he also showed to hand wash dishes at my father’s memorial service.  I stand on Don’s shoulders.

All of us stand on the shoulders of those who lived before us, who dreamed before us, who put their faith into action.  God has blessed our lives with great souls upon whose shoulders we stand.  Thanks be to God.

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. 

Learning a more complete version of our nation’s history

by Rev. Talitha Arnold, United Church of Santa Fe

In early June, six United youth, with Karen and Frank Wilbanks and myself, traveled to the Navajo Nation for four days of exploring that sacred landscape and learning about the history and present lives of our Navajo/Diné neighbors. We took a jeep tour deep into Canyon de Chelly and met with the two Diné Episcopal priests who serve the Fort Defiance Good Shepherd Church, with whom United has a long-standing relationship. We even had a chance encounter with Di’Orr Greenwood, the young Navajo/ Diné artist, one of four skateboard artists whose work is featured on a new set of U.S. Postal stamps.

We were also in Window Rock, the capital of the Navajo Nation, and toured the History Museum on “Treaty Day” (June 1), that commemorates the signing of the 1868 Treaty that ended “The Long Walk.” In case you don’t know this history, between 1863 and 1866, after burning their crops and kidnapping their children, the U.S. military forced over 10,000 Navajo/ Diné men, women, and children to walk from their homeland in northeastern Arizona 250 miles to Bosque Redondo in southern New Mexico. At least 2,000 Navajo/Diné died on the journey. Another 4,000 died over the next four years of imprisonment, due to disease and malnutrition.

Finally, Navajo/Diné leader Manuelito and others successfully used the treaty-making process to secure a return to their homelands and forge a diplomatic relationship with the United States government. Juanita, Manuelito’s wife, and other women also participated in the negotiations, even though—as women—they weren’t officially recognized by the U.S. government. To secure the treaty, the Navajo/Diné also had to agree to giving up their children, from age 6 to 18, to Indian Boarding Schools—a whole other chapter of U.S. history.

After the Museum tour and Treaty exhibit, I asked our youth how learning this hard history made them feel. “Sad,” said one. “I wish our country hadn’t done that,” said another. “We need to make sure something like that never happens again,” said another.

I couldn’t help but contrast their feelings with the current rhetoric used to ban books and forbid the teaching of a fuller history of our country. Such actions are needed, so the argument goes, to keep children and youth from feeling bad or ashamed.

That wasn’t what our kids felt. When they learned a part of U.S. history they’d never known, they felt sadness and empathy. They knew that something our country had done was wrong, and they felt a commitment to make sure such injustice won’t happen again. Empathy. Responsibility. Concern for justice. Aren’t those supposed to be Christian values?

As we prepare to celebrate the 4th of July, let’s learn from our youth and be open to learning a more complete version of our nation’s history. One could argue it’s the Christian thing to do.

We have always existed

by Rev. Louis Mitchell, Senior Pastor at Rincon Congregational UCC

Wikipedia offers this:  Jewish law, or halacha, recognizes intersex and non-conforming gender identities in addition to male and female.  Rabbinical literature recognizes six different sexes, defined according to the development and presentation of primary and secondary sex characteristics at birth and later in life.  Jewish literature describes what today would be referred to as intersex such as the concept of a Tumtum being a person of ambiguous gender and/or sex as is the concept of the androgynos, being a person characterized with elements of both sexes. One aspect of Gender and Jewish studies is considering how the ambiguity recognized in Rabbinical literature has been erased and constructed into a binary and how this translates into Jewish practices.
 
It’s also been amended by some to include eight gender designations found in the Talmud –
The 8 Talmudic genders identified are as follows:
(1) Zachar (male), (2) Nekevah (female), (3) Androgynos (having both male and female characteristics), (4) Tumtum (lacking sexual characteristics), (5) Aylonit Hamah (identified female at birth but later naturally developing male characteristics), (6) Aylonit Adam (identified female at birth but later developing male characteristics through human intervention), (7) Saris hamah (identified male at birth but later naturally developing female characteristics), and (8) Saris adam (identified male at birth and later developing female characteristics through human intervention).
 
But what is the Talmud?
 
The Talmud (/ˈtɑːlmʊd, -məd, ˈtæl-/; Hebrew: תַּלְמוּד, romanized: Talmūḏ) is the central text of Rabbinic Judaism and the primary source of Jewish religious law (halakha) and Jewish theology. Until the advent of modernity, in nearly all Jewish communities, the Talmud was the centerpiece of Jewish cultural life and was foundational to “all Jewish thought and aspirations”, serving also as “the guide for the daily life” of Jews.
 
The term Talmud normally refers to the collection of writings named specifically the Babylonian Talmud (Talmud Bavli), although there is also an earlier collection known as the Jerusalem Talmud (Talmud Yerushalmi).  It may also traditionally be called Shas (ש״ס), a Hebrew abbreviation of shisha sedarim, or the “six orders” of the Mishnah.

The Talmud has two components: the Mishnah (משנה, c. 200 CE), a written compendium of the Oral Torah; and the Gemara (גמרא, c. 500 CE), an elucidation of the Mishnah and related Tannaitic writings that often ventures onto other subjects and expounds broadly on the Hebrew Bible. The term “Talmud” may refer to either the Gemara alone, or the Mishnah and Gemara together.
 
The entire Talmud consists of 63 tractates, and in the standard print, called the Vilna Shas, there are 2,711 double-sided folios.  It is written in Mishnaic Hebrew and Jewish Babylonian Aramaic and contains the teachings and opinions of thousands of rabbis (dating from before the Common Era through to the fifth century) on a variety of subjects, including halakha, Jewish ethics, philosophy, customs, history, and folklore, and many other topics. The Talmud is the basis for all codes of Jewish law and is widely quoted in rabbinic literature.
 
I’m not a Hebrew scholar, but I wonder when these observations of our ancestors of faith became unacknowledged and a hard binary came into being.
 
Even as many feel that this “new thing,” gender expansiveness, is confusing and born in modernity, there is much evidence that we have always existed all over the world and in most every culture.
 
If you’re interested in learning more, check out https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transgender_history
 
All of this to say, names and pronouns are important. When someone trusts you enough to tell you who they are and how they’d like to be addressed, try not to take that tender trust lightly.
 
In our radical and expansive welcome, we will all have to learn, shift, and grow. I believe we’re ready and able to the task!
 
Be thoughtful, listen well, and love with your language.