community – Page 5 – Southwest Conference Blog

Native American Heritage Month…Last Edition: Forming Kinship Bonds with Indigenous People

by Church of the Palms member Kay Klinkenborg, MA, Spiritual Director, Member Spiritual Directors International, Retired: RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT

The Church of the Palms 19^th Annual Interfaith Conference is over; the Indigenous worship service took place. Likely we are having one of three responses. One, it is with some anticipation of what might be possible in forming bonds with Indigenous people of Maricopa County and our surrounding towns. Or two, it might be with relief that I have learned all I need to know about Indigenous history and I get it…they experienced near extinction from European colonization, genocide, forced relocation, and ongoing oppression exists. Or three, I still believe what I absorbed, heard or was taught and nothing has changed in how I see ‘this group’ of people.

Having just been through our own ‘white’ ritual of the Thanksgiving holiday it brings me to offer a few thoughts about ‘kinship.’ Is that not how God designed all of creation? It is interactive, it is about relationships. It is about giving thanks for what we have that we didn’t even ask for? Is it not about claiming that all humans, all species and living things are on this journey together? Theologians and environmentalists remind us that in our ‘Hebrew Christian creation story’ humans were created last. Not for dominion over all things prior to us…but that the world could exist without us. It is all here and we are connected to it all.

We have been given the opportunity to receive many lessons from our Indigenous speakers, our bulletin inserts about their gifts and knowledge and how collaboratively we can make a more peaceful world of harmony and support and advocacy for all oppressed or silenced people.

Matthew Fox says it more powerfully: “Our calling is a form of “Radical companionship,” both primordial and eternal, in that it recognizes that we are never separate from one another, but forever bound, and inextricably entwined. It is even beyond such catchy concepts as “interdependent,” and reflects a closeness with God and the Universe beyond simple transactions and interactions. So much so that we are not “co-“ or “inter-“ anything, but rather so tightly bound as to be inseparable. There is no “me” and “thee” here, there is no “other.” And we have no choice in the matter, regardless of what we may choose to think or believe. We can’t help being one. We just are.”

Need I say more? I am owning my own ‘call’ to be more intentional about kinship, companionship and catching my unconscious ‘othering’ and working on unconditional love, justice and extending extravagant welcome to all. As Pastor Jim Alexander stated in his sermon on ‘advocacy’ when teaching about the widow before the judge, the lessons are: be insistent, persistent and consistence. This remains a life-long task.

Migrating Home

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

I always hear them before I ever see them. Their call is a throaty, high pitched warble and when lots of them are calling, it sounds like a gathering of excited tourists, shouting to each other from across a crowded street. The Sandhill Cranes arrive every year, migrating south, spending the winters in a hodgepodge of fields about a hundred miles south of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Tens of thousands of them make the annual trek, overcoming great hardships, surviving hunters and pollution, desert winds and human population explosions; every year, winter after winter, they come.

Migrations happen all the time, everywhere. We all know the stories; some of us even follow the species. There are migratory movements of butterflies, hummingbirds, salmon, and even dragonflies. It seems as if there are a lot of creatures genetically predisposed to move from place to place.

Scientists tell us that triggers for migration may be local climate, mating purposes, local availability of food, or because of the season of the year. Whatever the pull, they keep going, generations after generations, migrators still migrate.

I believe that humans migrate too. I’m not just speaking about movements from rural life to urban existence or a relocating toward more opportunities or better jobs; I’m talking about a spiritual migration, the internal compass that we all have that guides us to head in the direction of goodness.

We don’t hear about that migration very much. The news gives us other headlines, stories that talk about our propensity toward greed and evil. We hear much more about our leaning in the direction of selfishness and violence. And of course, we know these stories all too well. However, there is something else in our make-up, something that drives us to a better existence, something pulling us to kindness and generosity. We are made in the divine image of our creator and because we have that image stamped upon us, there is a natural migration towards our best selves, our goodness.

Occasionally, we do hear those stories too. We hear about the heroic efforts of those who bear no thoughts for their own safety, rushing headlong to the aid of others in need. We hear about children, not yet cynical about our species, deeply moved by the suffering of others and who remind adults that as human beings we must care for each other. We hear those stories and we are moved by them and not because they are interesting or foreign. We are moved by them because they remind of us of who we really are, where we are meant to be.

It is easy to forget our divine calling, how we were created, what we really need to survive. Many of us have lost our way, feel unable to make the return journey to what sustains us. But the species is not lost. We still know the path. We just need to remember what we have always known. Just listen to your heart. You will get back home.

The Gift of the Vote

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

I know it sounds crazy but I always weep when I vote. It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not because of the polarization in our country or that my chosen candidate is not likely to win. It’s not because I feel sad or tired or weary, though voting seasons can leave me feeling those emotions.

I weep because I am always mindful of what was required from others for me to have the right to vote. I’ve seen the documentaries, read accounts of the women fighting for the right to vote. I know how they were jailed, force fed during their hunger strikes. I know they faced danger and harassment and suffered great losses for their commitment to pass the 19^th amendment in 1919. I know those stories of courage.

I weep because I remember in 1994 when South Africans stood in line for days to finally be able to cast their votes and elect Nelson Mandela as the nation’s president, finally putting an end to apartheid. I saw the news reports of the miles-long lines of people withstanding hunger, danger, and fatigue, refusing to give up and go home when they were forced to wait. I know those stories of perseverance.

I weep because I think of people like Fannie Mae Hamer who was beaten because of her work for voters rights in the 1960’s, of how many times and how many places people of color were turned away from the polls, how many of them lost their jobs, their livelihoods, their lives, to get to the polls, how so many died trying to register voters or cast their ballots. I know those stories of faith.

I weep because I know there are countless places in our world where religion and politics disallow women to vote, where the voting doesn’t matter because of corruption, and places where voting just simply doesn’t happen for anyone.

Voting is not to be taken lightly.

This election will not bring us closer together. This election will not cure the ills of our nation or usher in some new world order of peace and unity. In many aspects, we have lost our way in knowing how to build bridges, how to work together, how to put aside our hatred and resentment and create a government and society that allows for differences, where leaders from all sides sit down at the table and are willing to listen to one another. I doubt the state of affairs will somehow become better no matter the election outcomes. Still, the right to vote was a costly one for our ancestors. The right to go and stand in line and cast a ballot is a great privilege that has been given to us on the backs of those who fought before us.

So, make sure to vote; and while you wait to be handed the long white sheet of paper; when you enter your private queue, take the pen and color in the circle of your choice; when you hand over your completed ballot and walk out the door, take a minute and remember this privilege that is ours today. Take a breath and be grateful.

You might just shed a tear too.

Comfort prayer for a friend

by Rev. Deb Church

Our Father who art in Heaven—
and who is with us, wherever we are…

…hallowed be thy name.
Your name, O God, is holy
and rests in our hearts
and on our tongues
sometimes like honey
sometimes like vinegar
sometimes a blessing
sometimes more like a curse
sometimes coming out in a song of praise
sometimes, escaping in a groan from the depths of our souls
But always, O God, holy is your name…

…Thy kingdom come—
in all the places
and in all the spaces
we are.
Come, healing and wholeness
Come, truth and justice
Come, forgiveness and belonging
Come, mercy and grace
Come, peace and hope
Come, love and Beloved
Come, Reality and Reign of God…

…Thy will be done—
as we trust in you
with hearts soaring
and hearts breaking
anxious and angry
grieving and confused,
as we place our loved ones
and our lives
in your strong and gentle hands,
letting go of control
holding on to hope
letting go of outcomes
holding on with trust
letting go of fear
holding on in Love…

…on earth as it is in heaven—
right here
in the middle of the muck
and mess
as we journey
from dust back to dust
embodied Spirit
walking around in
these bodies
clay pots
cracked
beautiful
broken
whole
Holiness
found right here
in the middle of the muck
and mess
of our world…

Give us this day—
today
now
in these moments
in this moment…

…our daily bread—
what will feed us
what will nourish us
what we need
in these moments
whether we
know it
recognize it
see it
feel it
or not…

…and forgive us our sins—
Forgive us, O God.
Forgive us
for our messiness
for our mistakes
Forgive us
for the hurt we inflict
without wanting to
and for hurt we long to inflict
that all comes from
the hurt we’ve received
Forgive us
for the hurt we cause
that we don’t know and
for the hurt we cause
because we don’t know
our woundedness
Forgive us, O God…

…as we forgive those who sin against us—
as we look with compassion
at those who hurt us
out of their hurt
as we look with tenderness
at those who hate us
having made us bearers
of the hate they feel
for themselves and cannot name
As we offer mercy
that we have received
to those who deserve it no more than we do
who deserve it no less than we do
Forgive us our sins, O God, with the same freedom
with which we forgive
or not
those who sin against us…

…and lead us not into temptation—
Keep us from going down
easy paths
of self-pity
well-worn paths
of shame and blame
familiar paths
of regret and guilt
paths that are so easy to follow
paths that take us
to no place good…

…but deliver us from evil—
and instead
into Hope
into Healing
into Peace
into Joy
into Love…

…for thine
is the kingdom
and the power
and the glory
forever—
And ever.
And ever.
And ever.
Always.
No matter what.
Amen.
And amen.

From Deb: Here’s something I wrote last night…as a prayer for a dear friend whose husband (who is also a dear friend) was near death. They are both members of my church, and I love them dearly. They’ve been in California for the last several months, while he was receiving treatment for his cancer. He died this morning… I hope and pray that something in this “fleshed out” version of the Lord’s Prayer gave his wife some bit of comfort last night, or perhaps will at some point in the future.

Kickin’…Cryin’…Denyin’ …or Grace? The Undeniable Experience of Aging

by Kay Klinkenborg MA, Church of the Palms; Spiritual Directors International; Retired RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT

I have a pact with my husband and a long-time friend, sister by another mother, that if I am not bathing, not hearing, not paying attention to myself, they are to ‘kick me in the butt’ and wake me up to make an appointment with my physician for a thorough assessment. I am trying to get out ahead of the fact that I might not always be attuned, sharp or paying attention…so I want some trusted observers with me on this journey of aging and transitions.

There are volumes of Internet articles, YouTube presentations about growing older with grace. As well as books galore about the topic. Is there anything new to say?

Why is it the natural process of aging for humans is often fought so fiercely with denial? One reason: we are an ageist society. We don’t honor aging. We don’t honor elders. We don’t claim the wisdom that years can bring to be shared. We are blind and isolate the aging persons in our life. Maybe most of all, we deny our own aging. Authors, Better and Hunt in Aging with Grace: Flourishing in an Anti-aging Culture state: “Today’s culture, however, marginalizes old age, often portraying it as burdensome and hopeless.” ¹

Susan Whitbourne, PhD, professor of Psychology at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst says: “For some reason, our society is very obsessed with pointing out negative aspects of aging,” ²

I wince each time I hear an elder say: “I can’t do what I used to do and I don’t have anything to offer.” That is not true.

Betty Friedan had a good quote: “Aging is not lost youth, but a new stage of opportunity and strength.”

“But if you get to be older, you have survived a lot of the threats to your physical and psychological integrity that have affected other people who are no longer around,” Whitbourne reminds us.² She also notes: through good luck or good genes or both, the old have dodged fatal accidents, premature disease, and other things that kill the young. “You are stronger, and you get to live longer,” “Most people think that’s a benefit.”²

One more time in life, we have choices. Choices about our attitude and approach to aging.

As I read articles, scanned the books I have collected on the topic of aging: three major themes arise: adaptation, wisdom sharing, and aspiring to age with grace.

The question is: How are you approaching aging?

Adaptation

This is a choice. Reality…aging is life. We know it is going to happen, and it can’t be altered. We can be bitter, angry about how life has turned out for us. As if we could do anything to chance the past. That is fruitless thinking. If we are angry, I find there is a need to forgive ourselves of somethings and/or possibly to forgive others.

Adaptation is going with the flow. Discovering what we can learn right now.

Adaptation is continuing to participate in our evolution as part of God’s creation.

Adaptation is owning “it’s not over till it’s over”.

Adaptation is asking yourself: “what do I need right now?”

Wisdom Sharing

Life experiences have taught us a great deal. We have our own parables to share that can inspire others. Yes, our life experiences are parables. Parables are not limited to sacred texts or the biblical stories. I am not talking about having to write books, leave journal pages for the next generation. I am talking about telling our stories and what we have learned. It is also about sharing what questions remain and owning there are some questions for which we will never has answers.

We will not share our wisdom if we do not stay engaged. You get to pick how you wish to stay engaged with other people; listening to their stories and sharing yours. We know that disengagement with others when aging leads to depression and extreme loneliness. Older adults make up 12% of the US population, but account for 18% of all suicide deaths. This is an alarming statistic, as the elderly are the fastest growing segment of the population, making the issue of later-life suicide a major public health priority.³

Aspiring to Age with Grace

This is a conscious decision. We cannot successfully, fruitfully age with grace by being unconscious about our choices. Just because we’ve reached a certain age doesn’t mean we don’t have to stay awake and be kind to ourselves and others.

Experts write books and treatise on ‘what is grace’? When I think of grace, I return to the basic concept I would teach a child about grace: “God is kind to you because God loves you. You deserve this.” Isaiah 46:4: reminds us lest we forget: “I will be your God throughout your lifetime—until you hair is white with age. I made you and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you.”

How do you give yourself grace? I have accumulated this list over the years.

Ways to Give Yourself the Gift of Grace

Don’t be perfect, be real. No one is perfect (repeat after me: no one is perfect). …
Mess up, but don’t let yourself feel bad. … mistakes are ‘mis takes’ a chance to try again
Give yourself permission to not do everything….
Never feel selfish for taking “you” time. …
Do one thing a day you’re proud of.
You come learning how to do this transition in life…just like you came learning how to do prior transitions/changes. This time…you have a tool box of skills!
Trust your intuition; it will seldom, if ever fail you.

I share a brief story of a long-time friend and spiritual mentor, Sr. Ann Regina Baker, OP. She died last year at the age of 101½ years. She is a role model for me in adapting, wisdom sharing and aspiring to age with grace.

Upon entering religious life, her ministry was in teaching music. Then she got a doctorate in spiritual direction. I don’t know the exact age when she moved to the Dominican Mother House to live in an apartment. Most of the sisters in her Dominican community never consider leaving formal ministry until after 80 years of age or older (unless something medical happens.) She continued with spiritual directees, she taught classes weekly and she lead private and group retreats.

Ann Regina called her physical aging changes, physical diminishments. She accepted in stride and with grace as she gradually lost her sight due to macular degeneration. She approached her physically loss to walk with the same attitude. She remained a teacher for Monday morning ‘Spiritual Growth’ class for her Dominican Sisters living in the Motherhouse until the age of 99. She was totally blind by then and was memorizing what was read to her or she heard on DVDs or tapes. The day came for her to physically move from her apartment at the Mother House to the Skilled Nursing Unit.

A mutual friend went to visit her to see how she was doing not having a class each week and no spiritual directees? “I am preaching from my pillow” was her response.

What a wisdom teacher! She modeled adaptation, wisdom sharing and aspiring to age with grace. May I have courageous and attunement that I am ‘always preaching’ whether I think others are listening or not. It is my choice about how to age gracefully.

“We can’t control our destiny, but we can control who we become.” Anne Frank

¹Aging with Grace: Flourishing in an Anti-aging Culture (2021). Sharon W. Betters & Susan Hunt.

²Katherine Kam: https://www.webmd.com/healthy-aging/features/the-art-of-aging-gracefully

³ https://www.aamft.org/American Association of Marriage and Family Therapists

https://www.mhanational.org/preventing-suicide-older-adults

Called to Love, Not to Fear 

guest post by Clara Sims, intern MID at First Congregational UCC Albuquerque

In June, churches nationwide celebrated Pride month – affirming that all people in the LGBTQ+ community are our siblings in Christ, beloved, precious, and irreplaceable members of our faith communities. However, our love and celebration this year have been set against an alarming national backdrop of increasing discrimination, hate, and violence toward our LGBTQ+ communities and, especially, toward our trans and non-binary siblings.

This national trend hit home when several faith communities learned of a local church planning to host transphobic speakers after showing the film “What is a Woman?” This film seeks to investigate the gender-fluid movement, though it does so from a decided lens of dismissal, negative bias, and fear. When such a film debuts upon this national stage of violence and fear toward LGBTQ+ communities, from the banning of medical care for transgender youth in Texas to the targeting of Pride events by militant right-wing groups, it leads me and many faith-community leaders in the greater Albuquerque area to ask different questions.

Not “what is a woman?” but “what are we afraid of?” Are we really afraid of allowing people to claim and celebrate the wholeness of their humanity? Are we really afraid of people who feel worthy enough to celebrate who they are – as God made them?

Our faith calls us to question the validity of such fear. It calls us to ask what is at stake when we choose fear over love? 

As decades of data demonstrate, people’s lives are at stake. Trans lives, non-binary lives, queer lives. Children’s lives, unborn lives – the very same the recent Supreme Court ruling to overturn Roe v. Wade claims to protect. According to the Trevor Project, an organization that provides crisis support for LGBTQ+ youth, nearly half of LGBTQ+ youth seriously considered suicide in the past year. Suicide is an epidemic among LGBTQ+ youth. When leaders, from politicians to clergy, use fear-filled rhetoric to stigmatize children and teenagers who are simply seeking to live their lives with integrity, the impact of emotional, mental, and spiritual suffering is deadly.

The Gospel offers much on the validity of fear that stigmatizes entire communities – it has no place in the kingdom of God, no place in the good news we are to proclaim to one another. We are called to love, not to fear. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear.” (John 4:18). 

The LGBTQ+ community are among the neighbors Jesus commanded his followers, over and over and in no uncertain terms, to love and treat with worth and dignity that the fallibility of our human judgments cannot set aside.

 As right-wing political-religious rhetoric doubles down on framing the beautiful diversity of gender and sexual identities and expressions among the LGBTQ+ community as counter to God’s will for creation, may we remember that our greatest commandment is to love one another, without criteria for who counts and who doesn’t. This will take courage and faith in the goodness of God’s community of creation; this will take risking ourselves to the blessing of a world in which everyone is needed, not as some want them to be, but as they truly are. 

Life AND Choice Are United

by Rev. Dr. Barb Doerrer-Peacock

I wasn’t sure whether this writing wanted to be a poem or an essay. So, I just wrote. This is the result: my thoughts/feelings about the current threat to women’s reproductive rights.

They would like us to think it’s about
Sanctity vs. sacrilege
Life vs. death
Federal vs state
Truth vs. lies
Constitution vs. changeable laws
Protection of one vs. another
A woman’s issue, and not a man’s
A womb and not a penis
A fetus and not a whole human life
A private decision and not
a whole human culture.

They would like us to think it’s about
when life begins and when it ends,
and whether it is a God
or a human decision.
whether it is male or female
conservative or liberal
Biblical or profane
pro-choice or pro-life.

They would like us to think…
but not really.
They would like us to react.

The tyranny of the binary
creates knee-jerk reactions,
reactions create polarizing gulfs,
gulfs create intractable division:
Us or Them
Other or Self
Win or Lose.

The authority of the binary
creates warring clans and tribes
Us vs. Them
Loyalty vs Disloyalty
Good vs Evil
Right vs. Wrong
Security vs. Fear.

The power of the binary is
dominance of definition
over ambiguity
privilege of power
over powerlessness,
control of cultural commonality
over difference and diversity.

They would like us to think that
this is what it’s all about.
It is not.
It is only yet another mask of
Either/Or
the binary.

A continuing incarnation of something
rather small and insidious,
like a worm that burrows unnoticed
into an orifice and lays its eggs
waiting, growing in the dark
to ultimately take over its host
with fear and madness.

But Life AND Choice are united.
The two entwining, eternal lovers of
God’s Good Creation.
Holiest Gifts
out of which everything is born.

Without Choice – there is no Life.
All is dead.
Without Life – Choice ceases to exist,
All is inanimate.

I refuse the binary trap.
Instead, I CHOOSE LIFE
Together, both, whole.

I choose to believe
life has no beginning
or end – all is in the presence of God
who was, and is,
and forever will be.

I choose to believe
sanctity can be manifest
In all soul-wrestling,
anguished decisions:
to end a pregnancy, AND
to continue a pregnancy
despite all odds, AND
a myriad of other
LIFE CHOOSE-INGS.
All are in the presence of God.

Sanctity evaporates
and the presence of God dims
when
our capacity to
CHOOSE LIFE
Is stolen.

So today,
I CHOOSE LIFE.
And I denounce
those who would be its
thieves.

The Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice put together this stunning video of Barb’s poem.

Mothering the World Right Now!

by Kay Klinkenborg

Climate change, war in Ukraine, starvation in Yemen and Afghanistan to name a few places that is happening. And a world pandemic continues. The world is not the same. We will not be returning to ‘normal’…whatever that was. Pastor Paul Whitlock on April 3 gave a powerful sermon on FOMO…FLOP…FOMO. I was quite taken with his creativity. Fun On Moving Onward (FOMO) was his challenge. Now what was I to do with that? Instantly my feminine energy kicked into gear.

Mothering. Creation has been ‘mothering’ since the beginning. God speaks of ‘we’ in Genesis; not alone as Creator. Then other Hebrew Scriptures speak of Sophia, Wisdom; which has been interpreted by highly respected theologians as the feminine side of God.

The Talmud also introduces the term Shekhinah to connote God’s presence in the world. Though the term is grammatically feminine, in the Talmud it is not explicitly gendered, though in some passages it refers to moments when God shares in human experiences of loneliness, loss, and exile.¹

In the case of Jewish thought, grammar at times meets theology in as much as impersonal Hebrew nouns are gendered, so that words like hokhmah (wisdom) and shekhinah (presence) over time lent themselves by virtue of their feminine.¹

In fact, the personal name of God, Yahweh, which is revealed to Moses in Exodus 3, is a remarkable combination of both female and male grammatical endings. The first part of God’s name in Hebrew, “Yah,” is feminine, and the last part, “weh,” is masculine.²

I am pleased that I can attest to many men I know that use ‘mothering characteristics’ in their relationships and interactions. I am not suggesting that this is a woman’s task at all. In fact, I think history and biblical interpretations show us that feminine traits are revered. And our world right now needs that kind of love!.

Remember the famous song: “What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love.” One word most will resonant with to describe that is a verb: mothering.

Since the beginning of time…’mothering’…to nurture…to care for…to watch after’ has and does occur. It had to have occurred or evolution would not have sustained, extended or be continuing. As the human species evolves our archeological discoveries tell us that ‘mothering’ occurred. It is nature’s form of care taking, survival of the species.

One major thing I have learned more about these past three years… ‘getting out of God’s way’. My instinctual need to control, be in charge is being challenged. I am learning more about the spiritual discipline of surrender. Let God evolve. There is no surprise that we have a pandemic. There have always been pandemics, disasters, wars, a disappearance of life as we understand it. That there is a new virus is not news. Our ownership that this can happen to us is what is new. This is nature. This is the evolving of life in this known Universe.

I have found myself ‘shoulding’: I should do this; I should say that; I should not be having this fear and anxiety. A sampling of my should list. What about ‘mothering myself’? What about starting there in order to have the energy and compassion to extend to others? If I can have compassion for my own journey/feelings during this extraordinary time in history, will not that enable me to understand/hear and have compassion beyond myself. Then I am ready to extend ‘mothering’.

Only in self-compassion and owning my own emotions in this particular journey will I then have the energy and compassionate response to others to be mothering the world. Mirabai Starr writes in her book Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics, “…we need a mothering of the world together right now.” We need that feminine energy that is male and female brought forth to face these challenges.

I want to explicitly point out the fact that women who have not born children… mother; men… mother, It is part of our innate design if we own that part of ourselves. A friend taught me a profound lesson about mothering;

One particularly Mother’s Day, I was quite depressed; estranged from our son and blaming myself for his adult choices. A friend sent me a text that day that knew of the circumstances. “Kay, you have been mothering people your entire adult life. As a nurse, friend, manager, counselor, consultant and the list goes on. So today claim all the mothering you have and do. Let that bring comfort.”

So I am challenging myself as I write to this audience, let my ‘mothering show forth’; let my love be visible and make me an instrument that releases a song of ‘Love, Love, Love…’

Going on without denying any aspect of the human drama is what strength is all about. We are carved by life into instruments that will release our song, if we can hold each up to the carving.

Mark Nepo

^1”Feminine Images of God”: Yehudah Mirsky, Jewish Women’s Archive.

²CBE (cbeinternational.org) (Christians for Biblical Equality). “The Feminine Imagery of God in the Hebrew Bible.” Joan P. Schaupp | October 30, 2000.

The Art of Blessing

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

One Sunday at church a parishioner brought me a ball cap with her favorite NASCAR racer’s name embroidered on it. She wanted me to bless it because she was worried about the driver. She was only teasing and I simply heard her story and held the hat for a second. I didn’t so much try to ease her concerns with a prayer as I did listen to her, but her request did remind me of the real reason I love being a pastor.

If I were to explain why I most enjoy being an ordained minister, it wouldn’t be the preaching or the administrative responsibilities; it wouldn’t be the pastoral visits to the hospitals or nursing homes or the teaching of scriptures. I enjoy being a pastor because I love being called upon to bless things.

In the more than 25 years since my ordination into professional ministry, I have been called upon to bless lots of things and all kinds of events. I have blessed marriages and unions, meetings of the many and the few, animals of all shapes and sizes, life arriving and life passing, houses, doorways, and even a porch swing for a hospice patient afraid of some evil spirit that hovered near. I have blessed barren fields in winter and bountiful summer harvests, rain and sun, honorable choices to leave and to stay, foreheads on Ash Wednesdays, mended hearts, surgeries and the healing of every kind of disease and discontent. I have touched fevered brows and small cherub cheeks, skinned knees and burdened backs. I have blessed cookies and milk, pots of green chile stew, and long tables filled with casseroles, Jell-O salads, barbeque, fried chicken, and a variety of frosted cakes. And in all that time, it has always been my deepest pleasure to lead a person or a gathering into the consideration of being blessed.

I don’t bless because I think I am more qualified than anyone else to pray over potluck suppers, community gatherings, or crying babies. I do not consider myself more special or more knowledgeable than anyone else. In fact, much of the time, when I am called upon for a blessing I glance around the room and find many others who could do and have done a better job than I. But blessing stuff comes with the territory when you are a minister. Just as we look to the nurse or doctor to step in when someone faints or we look to a teenager for help with the computer, just as we ask the mechanic for tips on engine maintenance for our automobiles, we expect the minister to bless us.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines blessing as “an expression of good wishes. A special favor granted by God,” and “anything contributing to happiness.” I think of a blessing as simply calling attention to that which is wonderful, to a person or event or animal or memory or dream that makes us smile. To be blessed is to acknowledge that even if everything around us is empty, we are able to see that actually our cups are running over. It is to stop everyone from brushing aside life. It is to keep us from missing the splendid. It is to say, “hey, wait a minute, this is fabulous life happening here! This is a moment you will want to remember! This, for all its ordinariness, this is sacred. This is blessed.”

I didn’t ask for favor on my parishioner’s favorite racecar driver when I took the hat from her, but I did smile and thank God that she has something in her life that brings her delight, something that connects her to the world, something that engages and pleases her. The fact that she has found a little pleasure is in itself a great blessing. And I am the fortunate one who gets asked to call attention to it.