Category: God

A Cardinal Lesson in Discernment

by Teresa Blythe

I have not always been sure of what I wanted to do with my life, but I have an uncanny ability to know deep within what I do not want—especially in what you might call “defining moments” of my life. 

In the late ’90s, I served as a low-level public relations assistant for the government transit agency in Baltimore, assigned all the tasks that the director of communications didn’t want to do. We were hosting the Catholic Cardinal one day as we dedicated the opening of a new subway station near the Cathedral, so I wore my nicest skirted suit. 

As the Cardinal spoke, it was clear the sound system wasn’t working properly. It made no difference that there were two men, in pants, staffing this event alongside me—I was ordered to step onstage during the speech, get on my knees, reach under the robe of the holy man, and adjust the sound. After the event, my boss ribbed me about “getting to fiddle around under the Cardinal’s robe” It was then I realized this job had run its course, and public relations was not a good fit for me.  

Leaving that job, I went to seminary in the hope that my theological leanings would lead to a career. Everyone, including me, expected I would become an ordained minister. But part of seminary training is exposure to a variety of ministries and ministers. And what I discovered was a general malaise that set in for many clergy after doing the job for five or more years. These men and women of God talked a lot about “callings” and “loving the people”—in the abstract. In reality, they were lonely, tired and depleted. I became tired just being around them. Some of them had personality types like my own, and I realized that if they couldn’t cut it, neither could I. I just didn’t have the mettle to be a parish minister. And I knew that if I ignored that “no” and pushed forward anyway I would have a lot harder time leaving that job than I did saying goodbye to the job that had me crawling onstage with the Cardinal. So, with a bit of sadness, I crossed “parish pastor” off my list. 

I wondered what I would ever be willing to say “yes” to?

While in seminary, I also studied to become a spiritual director—a person trained in listening and helping people along their spiritual journeys. We look for signs of energy, desire, life, and joy—clues that God is doing a new or significant thing in the person’s life. We look for the “yes” and pay close attention to the “no,” which is a key principle in the spiritual discipline of discernment.

As I learned how to walk with others, I found my own passions. Being a former broadcaster and having that short-lived career in public relations meant that I had done a lot of writing over the years. Now it was time to write about things that really mattered.

It began with articles, essays, book reviews and finally co-authoring a book. I was saying “yes” all over the place, and amazingly, people were responding. Then came an offer to write someone else’s book. It looked like a great career move, but a little voice deep inside me was saying that old familiar “no.” I pondered. Weighed the pros and cons. Consulted with mentors and elders. No. No. No. As certainly as I did not want to duck under the robe of the holy Cardinal, I did not want to write someone else’s book.

That’s when I learned the “cardinal” lesson of discernment. It is only in hindsight that we know with any certainty whether the path we chose was the right one, and that’s OK. As we keep looking back, we discover what we need to know to move forward. That visceral “no” is an important voice to honor. In fact, sometimes I think that’s the voice more good people in the world need to obey. It’s heartbreaking to see someone who says “yes” to every offer that comes down the road and become a scattered mess. Perhaps they heard the shout of “no” a few times but ignored it and now they are burned out and looking for the escape route.

That “no” taught me that, because life is short, I need to pursue what I am specifically made by God to do, even if it’s not all that clear at the moment. I need to write what I want to write, be around people who are full of life and help others along their spiritual journey. 

And, of course–never, ever, work for someone who demands that I crawl under a Cardinal’s robe.

Ideas for reflecting on listening to the “no:”

  • When is the last time you honored a “no” that you felt in your heart? How did it work out?
  • How did you discover your life’s work? If you have not yet found your way, what tools are you using for discernment?

Practice: Using the Quaker image of the “stop in the mind” as part of your discernment process. When you feel an urge to slow down or stop around a particular request made of you, take time to explore that. It could mean saying no is what’s best. Or it could mean you need more information, or that now is not the time. The “stop in the mind” can be important discernment information about how God’s spirit relates to us.

Why I Became a Spiritual Director

by Teresa Blythe

The practice of spiritual direction rescued me. I never felt I fit into the conservative church I grew up in, so I set out as a young adult to find a spiritual path that focused on God’s unconditional love of creation.

The journey took considerable time. My new path had little to do with the institutional church. I didn’t discover it in worship, bible studies, social justice activism or through the adoption of a new theology. I found it by way of a Presbyterian minister who was in training to be a spiritual director. From the very moment I entered spiritual direction, I knew I wanted to be exploring my experience, values, and beliefs the rest of my life.

A Safe Place

The spiritual direction relationship was a safe port in the storm of my connection with Christianity. It also gave me the tools and the space for discernment—especially around vocation.

When I entered spiritual direction in the late 1980’s I had no thoughts of pursuing ministry. I was busy developing a career as a radio news journalist. My need for spiritual direction was solely about healing my image of God. And it was working—I was healing.

As I moved from market to market trying to make a living in what was turning out to be a shrinking field, I was fortunate to find many able and experienced spiritual directors along the way. The work I did in spiritual direction gradually changed me, showing me a greater depth of purpose in life.

The Call

By the mid-90’s, I was broadcasting 100-second news updates for a Baltimore rock station with a “Morning Zoo” format, fondly referred to in the business as a trio of “the d–k, the dork and the (news) girl.” My epiphany—my “call narrative,” so to speak, came when the two DJs brought in a female stripper to entertain them at work. While I’m not a prude, inviting a stripper to a radio show seemed useless, even counterproductive to me. Still, I played it cool, reading the news on air as she danced for the guys. Walking out of that studio, heading back to my closet (literally—they had me work out of a closet) I heard a tiny voice say “I want more than this for you.”

For me that meant attending the Ecumenical Institute of St. Mary’s Seminary in Baltimore at nights while continuing to be part of the Morning Zoo. From there I headed to San Francisco Theological Seminary because it had a training program for spiritual directors.

Giving Back

Wanting to give to others what I had received was a driving force for me vocationally. I thought I would work mostly with people—like me—who were refugees from fundamentalism. What I’ve come to appreciate is the variety of experience, concerns, and spiritual needs in the world. We’re all refugees from something. Everyone who enters spiritual direction has wounds, desires and beliefs worth paying attention to. We all need sacred space filled with compassion, deep listening, and reverence.

That’s why I became a spiritual director.

This Unholy Christmas

by Abigail Conley

This Christmas seems to be a Christmas of lasts. An aunt is dying and this will be her last Christmas by any reasonable account. My mom was diagnosed with dementia earlier this year, and while medication is staving off some symptoms, that won’t last forever. “Rapidly progressing” was added to the diagnosis. In less than six months, she went from working full-time to not making sense in phone conversations. Hindsight says there may have been earlier signs, but no matter what, I imagine she will be much less of the mom I cherish by this time next year. I’m walking with lay leaders snagging moments with loved ones, knowing this is the last Christmas together. 

All of that is terrible, and brings some wonderful with it, and is exactly what we expect from life. Some years and seasons are better than others. But as I read the story of the Magi’s visit with a bible study a couple weeks ago, I was reminded of the strange and profound re-writing of history that Christians did. Matthew, the only Gospel writer to tell of the Magi’s visit, does all sorts of acrobatics to tie this experience of Jesus to the Old Testament. He cites verse after verse, assuring us, “This is what those people were talking about.”

If you go back and read the original texts, what Matthew says is about Jesus is never about Jesus. Read Isaiah all the way through at face value if you don’t believe me. Yet, here he is, re-writing, re-telling, certain of God’s faithfulness in the quoted texts and in the experience of Jesus. Facts are being rewritten in favor of Truth. 

One of my rabbi friends was appalled the day I told him that many Christians’ understanding of redemption is that a ransom was paid by Christ or a purchase made. Redeemed ends up wrapped up in the cross. With all the horror still on his face, he said, “You mean it’s not that God can take something terrible and make something good out of it? Like the holocaust?” I liked his definition better for sure, but I readily admitted that was a definition that would have to be supplied and agreed upon. It was not the assumed definition. 

I say that because Christians do not have a corner on God’s ongoing work in the world. Sometimes we think we do for sure, but we are not alone among the people who believe God still intervenes in this place. Nor are we alone in our understanding that we participate in God’s work. 

We are a bit alone in the Trinity, though. Even those of us who reject the notion of the Trinity are still wrestling with it. I can go most ways on the Trinity, but I do like that one of the claims of the Trinity is that the prophetic Spirit that was with Isaiah made its home with the church. We are always Spirit-led, Spirit-breathed people. I wonder about what it means so many years later for our Jewish family, but I am still amazed by the permission given by the Spirit for Matthew to rewrite history. 

And I said all the Spirit stuff to come back to this: lasts are still holy. We have permission to figure out the new thing. We do not sit back waiting for God to do God’s thing. We make choices, and we do so with prayer and discernment trust the Spirit remains with us through that. Some of God’s best work even seems to come in impossible interruptions that are made holy. 

So as we sit in these days with the prophets roused by the Spirits, and the Magi called by a star, and the Shepherds beckoned by angels, and a holy family that definitely wasn’t feeling so holy to start with, keep deep hope even through the lasts. For God still calls and leads, even you.

God is Bigger!

guest post by Deborah Church Worley from her sermon on October 13, 2019 at White Rock Presbyterian Church

“Then Peter began to speak to them: ‘I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.’”  (Acts 10:34-35)

When I was at Cornell last weekend with my soon-to-be-graduating daughter Sarah, I was filled with both memories of my time there as a student, some 30 years ago, give or take, as well as perspectives as the mom of a prospective student, seeing some things in a fresh way, as Sarah was seeing them for the first time. I did feel a somewhat surprising feeling of pride toward Cornell…a feeling of wanting to share all that was good about it with Sarah…a growing hope that she might be able to experience Cornell as a student herself….

One of the memories that came most quickly to mind, I’m a little embarrassed to say, was actually one that I had shared with my kids previously, because each time I think about it, it makes me laugh. Or at least chuckle. And that is of a T-shirt that some entrepreneurial students created and sold door-to-door in my freshman dorm. It had the Harvard seal on the front… and on the back it said, “Harvard…because not everyone can get into Cornell.”  🙂 🙂 🙂 

Now that’s not biggest nor the most famous rivalry in the world, but it does exist.  🙂

Some of these [rivalries] are likely more familiar to more people:

Coke/Pepsi
McDonald’s/Burger King
Fox/CNN
DC/Marvel
Taylor Swift/Kanye West
Apple/Microsoft
Celtics/Lakers
Tom Brady/Peyton Manning
Red Sox/Yankees

And of course, for us here in New Mexico, there’s this one….

Red or green chile??

Some of these rivalries are all in good fun. Some, people take more seriously. Sometimes, just to say, for example, that you’re a fan of a particular team can get you in hot water and earn you some seriously nasty looks and comments, at a minimum. I have a good friend who grew up in Maine and is a lifelong, committed fan of the New England Patriots. When they are in the Super Bowl (which seems to happen pretty regularly these days!), she doesn’t like to tell anyone she’ll be rooting for them…as that is not a particularly welcome comment around here.

And that’s just football! What about things that are inherently more serious? Like politics? There are some serious, and significant, divisions in our country around politics, and it seems like it’s only getting worse…

There are places where a person might very well be afraid to admit that she, or he, voted for Hilary in the last Presidential election; just like there are also places where a person might not feel safe admitting to having voted for Trump. It’s more than a personal preference; it seems to be taken as a reflection of your intelligence or character or goodness or patriotism.

It seems there’s a growing attitude of “If you’re different from me in some way that’s significant to me, I don’t need–or even want–to really get to know you, or know why you think what you think; I know all I need to know about you simply because you’re a [fill-in-the-blank].”  

Patriots fan. Broncos fan.

Republican.  Democrat.  

Labbie.  High school dropout.

“I know all I need to know about you because you have tattoos, and body piercings.

Because you curse like a sailor, smoke like a chimney, and drink like a fish.

Because you went to an Ivy League school.

Because you went to Cornell… 🙂 

Because you went to Harvard….  :/ 

Because you served your country in the Armed Services.

Because you didn’t serve your country in the Armed Services….  

I know all I need to know about you because you live in the [Espanola] Valley.  

Because you live in Los Alamos.  

Because you live in a million-dollar home.  

Because you live in a mobile home.

I know all I need to know about you, thank you very much, 

because of the color of your skin…the shape of your nose…

the accent in your voice…the sound of your last name…

the person you love…the church you attend–or don’t…

the height of your car’s suspension…the height of your heels….

I know all I need to know about you, because I know that one thing about you. 

Sometimes it feels like this kind of thinking is becoming more prevalent rather than less…

But maybe not. Maybe it’s just always been around. It certainly existed in first-century Israel. It’s present in the background of today’s passage. Jews and Gentiles really didn’t associate with each other much. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have that big a deal for Peter to visit Cornelius. The story might not have even been worth recording. But it did get recorded, because it was a big deal.

According to one website I looked at, in first-century Israel, “[According to William Barclay,] it was common for a Jewish man to begin the day with a prayer thanking God that he was not a slave, a Gentile, or a woman.”  It went on to say that “a basic part of the Jewish religion in the days of the New Testament was an oath that promised that one would never help a Gentile under any circumstances, such as giving directions if they were asked. But it went even as far as [promising to refuse] to help a Gentile woman at the time of her greatest need – when she was giving birth – because the result would only be to bring another Gentile into the world.”  Another extreme example of the importance of remaining separate that I stumbled upon in my research is that “if a Jew married a Gentile, the Jewish community would have a funeral for the Jew and consider them dead.” Less extreme but perhaps more important as it was a more common possibility, was the thought that “to even enter the house of a Gentile made a Jew unclean before God.” Jews and Gentiles just did not associate. They knew everything they needed to know about one another simply by knowing to which group they belonged.

That would have been Peter’s training, and point of reference. As a devout Jew, he would have prayed those prayers, made those promises, taken those oaths. He would not have eaten with Gentiles, or invited them into his house, or entered the house of a Gentile himself. Those were simply things he had learned since his birth to not do, things that were ingrained in him by his religious teachings, traditions among his people that were acceptable and accepted, going back thousands of years. To live by those practices didn’t make him a bad person; on the contrary, they made him a good Jew. He was doing what he needed to do, what was expected, what was right.

Until now.

Until God broke in.

Until the Holy Spirit of God told Peter, showed Peter, taught Peter, otherwise.

“Do not call anything impure that God has made clean.” 

Or more simply put, as it says in “The Message”:  “If God says it’s okay, it’s okay.” 

Peter’s religion had kind of put God, and the blessings of God, in a box.  A box meant only for the people of that religion. And only for the people of that religion that did it right!  

Religion seems to have a tendency to do that.  Or perhaps, it’s not religion per se, but the people of those religions, who want to make sure they get it right, so that God will love them and bless them….and part of what helps them make sure they’re getting it right, it seems, it be clear about who’s getting it wrong…

Certainly the Christian church, and a good number of us Christians (or more accurately, a horrifying number of us Christians…), seem to think and behave in that way…..  

Our practices and traditions, some of which have been passed down for hundreds and even thousands of year, can be harmfully divisive, can seem to seek to exclude rather than include, can serve to move us toward that attitude of “I know all I need to know about you, because I know that one thing about you…,” and it seems we, as Christians, sometimes take that even further, going on to think that “because I know that one thing about you, I also know God doesn’t love you. Or at least not as much as God loves me.  Not until you change that one thing so that you’re more like me…” No wonder there are people who would “rather chew glass than come to church.”!! (That was a quote in the article in the Daily Post from someone from the Freedom Church in Los Alamos! Did anyone else see that?? 🙂 )

I am bigger than that! I am bigger than your practices and customs! I am bigger than the way you have always done things!  I am bigger, and my blessings are meant for so many more than just your people! I am bigger than your customs have allowed me to be, and I am breaking out! Watch, and watch out! Even better–come with me! Go where I lead you, do what I tell you, say the words I give you, and you and so many more will be blessed!  

And Peter listened, and he went, and he did, and he said…all that the Holy Spirit of God told him to do. And the world was changed!  

It’s true that there are rivalries and divisions and misunderstandings and prejudices in our world. Just like there were in first-century Israel. And before. Just like, I suspect, there always will be, this side of heaven. And while some are good-natured and harmless, some are very hurtful and hateful.  

But our God, the God of Peter and the God of Cornelius, the God who took on flesh in Jesus of Nazareth and who empowered the apostles in the form of the Holy Spirit, the God whom we gather each Sunday to worship and depart each Sunday to serve, our God is bigger than all of that!! 

Our God is bigger…and stronger…and greater…and truly beyond our comprehension and capacity to know…but that God knows us, and loves us, and loves the world! And wants to bless the world. Our God wants to bless the world–the whole world, and all the people of the world, not just those whom we choose or approve of or deem to be worthy or like, but all persons… And God can use us to do that, to bless people and change the world…if we, like Peter, will listen and go and do and say, led by the Holy Spirit of God. 

May God break our hearts…so that God might first break in, and then break out!

Amen.

On the Move

by John Indermark

Modern physics understands that the smallest elements of matter are in constant motion. What appears to be solid, be it your kitchen table or your body, is actually a vibrating collection of subatomic “stuff.” Were it not for forces at work within atoms, the illusion of solidity might spin off into nothingness. I try not to lose sleep over being poised on the edge of that precipice. I need a comfort zone of dependability. How else could I live?

So consider a similar dynamic at work in faith, whether in the heart of an individual or the spirit of a community: we largely prefer to live in comfort zones constructed of what we have come to depend upon in our belief systems. I believe that to be true whether one identifies as a die-hard conservative or flaming liberal or any manner of faith position in between. How did we get that way? Our experiences. Our traditions. Our encounters with God. As best we can, we put those things together and package our faith in a way that makes sense. How else could we live?

There is only one problem with this tendency: God. God’s quicksilver-like resistance to be poured into one shape or fit into one box eludes our control. Just when we think we have this faith-thing nailed down and dependable, God goes contrarian. Ask the folks addressed in Ezekiel 10. Everybody KNEW God dwelt in the Jerusalem temple. That was the covenant, the agreement. God would stay put, no matter what. You could always count on that, if nothing else. How else could they live?

But the “nothing else” of exile came to pass – and God didn’t stay put. God moved beyond the Temple door, beyond the city gates of Jerusalem, beyond the Promised land. As Ezekiel saw it, God had wheels and wings: and God was in motion. God’s freedom was, and remains, a potentially sobering sight. All of our constructions (or is it constrictions?) of God, whether liturgical or theological or political, only have a piece of the Mystery. We catch a glimpse, we receive a promise, we partake a grace. But just when we think we have God all figured out, wheels start spinning and wings start flapping. God proves elusive at every attempt to be boxed in to our favored tradition or pet presumption.

So how can faith survive in the face of God’s boundless freedom, and not spin off into nothingness? Ezekiel’s glimpse of the mystery reveals God’s freedom to be not capricious, but purposefully aimed toward hope. When God leaves Jerusalem, the Presence moves east: the direction of the exiles. God’s freedom did not move God to abandon them, nor us. God’s freedom moves God to find us, to lead us to places whose possibilities we might never have known had it not been for the God too large for any box to contain. Ezekiel’s God has wheels and wings! Does ours?

10 Sacred Things ~ A Short-and-Sweet Life Giving Practice

by Karen Richter

I’m participating in a webinar this month with Spiritual Directors International on social justice spiritual direction. The first session was great, and I’m expecting to learn lots.

Part of this first week’s discussion was on liberating spiritual practices and the “anatomy” of a social justice spiritual director. One of these practices was new to me and I wanted to share it with you all. It’s quick and involves list making which are both pluses for me!

Make a list of ten things that are sacred to you today.

Yep, that’s it. Here’s my list from earlier this week.

  1. Mountains
  2. Water
  3. Listening
  4. Singing
  5. Back Rubs (especially for my sweet children)
  6. Sexuality and touch
  7. Friendship
  8. Sharing Food
  9. Prayer and Movement
  10. Ritual

This took me about five minutes… the first seven things came super fast, but then I had to think a bit for last two or three. I looked at my scribbled list and felt good about it. Now it’s a bit later and I’m looking again at 10 Things and noticing.

  • I would have different things to list today: breathing, bird watching, patient waiting, experiences of flow, resistance, and sacrifice. Every day has its own gifts.
  • There’s less of a differentiation between sacred time and everyday moments than my calendar would lead me to expect. It’s a potential problem for churchy people like me… We get focused on Sunday and miss the sacredness of tea brewing on a random Tuesday. In our achievement-oriented culture, we rush through moments of human connection to cross things off of very different kinds of lists.
  • My list calls me to spirituality basics: gratitude and paying attention.

And finally, I’m feeling some questions bubbling up. How different would my life look if I allowed myself to be guided by a list of what’s sacred? Could I say No more often to things that keep me separated and unfocused? Could I say Yes more frequently to peace, connection, and love? When there are days that feel like I’m spinning my wheels and getting nowhere fast, can I recognize sacred moments and show myself (and others) much needed grace?

Will you make a list today? What will you notice? I invite you to share your list (or a portion thereof) on the SWC Facebook page as a comment on this post or to share your list in whatever way feels affirming to you.

Please use the hashtag #10sacredthings.

Praying for Our Enemies

by Teresa Blythe

If we are to love our enemies, as Jesus emphatically taught, we ought to keep them in our prayers. It’s the last thing many of us want to do these days.

Who is my enemy?

People who strive to be good don’t like to think we have enemies. Your enemy is someone who is working against you; someone who does not have your best interest at heart; perhaps someone who hurt you and shows no remorse. Part of being human is admitting that, yes, we are holding some grudges against certain people for how they treat us. Even if we don’t like the term “enemy,” we probably do have one or two! It’s easier to ignore those who we might label enemy than to hold them in the presence of God as we pray or meditate.

Do you pray for your enemies?

Have you done any deep spiritual work around loving and praying for enemies? If not, the first step might be to simply ask God to assist you in compassion for them. Jesus loved to pray, so if you are a Jesus follower, why not ask him to pray in you or teach you to pray for those who hurt or rebuke you?

I’m one of those who likes to pretend I have no enemies, therefore, I don’t need to pray for them! And then I look at the news and get so angry at politicians who try to take away affordable health care or I fume about men who sexually harass women. So, yes, I need to pray more for my enemies.

A Prayer Practice to Experiment With

When Donald Trump first became president, I struggled with how to love and pray for political leaders who I feel do not have my best interest at heart. I wrestled with how to create a prayer practice that holds our political leaders — even those I would vote against or work to unseat (maybe especially those) — in the light of God’s presence. At the time I was reading a classic book on Christian healing, “The Healing Light” by Agnes Sanford and she suggested that when we feel overwhelmed by evil or tragedy in the world, pick one person or one situation and pray for that rather than trying to pray for everything that’s going on.

And so I did. I chose one powerful national political leader that I find distasteful (a member of the House of Representatives) and began to pray for him. I chose one who speaks frequently of his Christian faith so I thought maybe, hopefully, he will be open to the transformation that we all need to lower the temperature on this nation’s polarization.

I’ve seen no great transformation in him since I began this prayer, but I do see a change in me. I now see this politician as a person — a troubled person — and one that is in a difficult position. Like my Buddhist friends, I pray “May he be happy, healthy and at peace.”

Another Practice to Try

When you want to believe “a change is gonna come” but are having trouble visualizing it on a national or global level, try asking the Divine — and trusting the Divine — to bring “all good things and all good people to work together” for the good of all. Process theology teaches us that God is constantly weaving our gifts and passions together for God’s purposes, and the more we open ourselves to what God is calling us to do or be, the more we become a part of the process of change.

It can be overwhelming to look around at enemies and consider what they are saying and doing. Finding ways to pray for them may feel futile at first, but it’s transformative work. It’s a way of maintaining hope in the face of chaos.

How do you pray for your enemies?

It’s Tough to be A Kid in This World

by Ryan Gear

I always want to be careful to investigate emotional stories before I comment. As we now know all too well, fake news is easy to produce and propagate through social media and cable news, and unsurprisingly, it turns out that we can’t believe everything we see on TV and the Internet. I don’t want to spread misinformation, so I want to be cautious about the stories I comment on.

Immigration has always been a controversial issue in the United States, and the emotional energy around immigration has now peaked again. Personally, I believe in smart immigration laws that protect our border and also offer opportunity to those who, like my Scots-Irish ancestors, wanted to build a better life in America. I believe that sensible laws can accomplish both. I don’t believe anyone, conservative or liberal, believes that our current situation is sensible, and as is often the case, it appears that children are the ones who are suffering the most.

When I saw the recent stories about asylum seeking children in the United States being separated from their parents at the border and kept in federal custody, I wanted to believe that it was sensationalism. The most dramatic story so far was told by a mother detained in Texas who claimed that her baby was taken from her while she was breastfeeding. Once these stories were picked up by multiple reputable news agencies, however, I decided to email my senators and urge them to act. If there is even a chance this has been happening during any presidential administration, whether Republican or Democrat, people of conscience simply cannot stand for this treatment of human beings.

On the June 14 edition of CBN news, Franklin Graham, a staunch evangelical supporter of the current president, called the policy “disgraceful” and deemed it a result of politicians kicking the can down the road for decades. No one with any moral compass can pretend that treatment of families is acceptable. The psychological trauma of such an event could affect these children for decades.

Even a cautious treatment of the situation reveals how morally warped it is. The left-leaning Washington Post wrote conservatively about the scene described by Senator Jeff Merkley that he saw that migrant children being kept in fenced-in spaces in McAllen, Texas. The article anemically argued over the semantics of whether or not the wire barriers surrounding the children could be called cages. Those urging compassion toward these families cite that the families are fleeing gang violence in Central America and should be welcomed as asylum seekers, not as prisoners.

The Toledo Blade reported on the recent ICE (Immigrant and Customs Enforcement) raid in Ohio in which 114 immigrants were detained, leaving 60 young children without at least one parent. Catholic Bishop Daniel E. Thomas said local parishes are working to help families affected by what he called ‘this extreme action.’

The most common defense I’ve heard from the roughly 30% of Americans who support this practice is that the parents broke the law. Asylum seekers are not breaking any laws. Even if they were, locking children in metal enclosures with no adult family members to care for them is not justifiable for any reason. This is not foster care. It is taking children away from their guardians and locking the children up. The president of the American Academy of Pediatrics, Dr. Colleen Kraft flatly stated, “It is a form of child abuse.” Again, I believe that immigration should be governed by laws, but is separating screaming children from their crying parents and placenta them in cells the way a moral society should conduct itself?

Immigration is a complex issue, but these children are not the only ones who are suffering. In the United States, 21% of all children live below the poverty level. Depending on the source, between 400 million and 600 million children live in extreme poverty worldwide, lacking basic necessities for a healthy life. Approximately 150 million children in the world are victims of forced child labor. Roughly 25% of adults report being abused as children. The Christian relief organization Compassion International reported that, “Globally in 2014, 1 billion children aged 2–17 years experienced physical, sexual, emotional or multiple types of violence.”

When I am faced with the plight of children in our world, I am personally convinced that more forward-thinking Christians like myself need to revisit the doctrine of sin. A realistic view of evil would open our eyes to the reality of our world and its causes and solutions.

An honest view of sin would also provide further moral grounding and righteous fuel for justice work. Some of my progressive friends are moved by the injustice in our world but at the same time would rather believe that humans are basically good. I agree that we are created to be good, but I don’t ignore the fall and more importantly the daily reality of our world that Genesis chapter 3 attempts to explain.

As much as I would like to agree with them, I simply see too much suffering caused by human beings to believe such a claim. Martin Luther King Jr. wrote in his sermon “Man’s Sin and God’s Grace,” “There is something wrong with human nature, something basically and fundamentally wrong. A recognition of this fact stands as one of the basic assumptions of our Christian faith.”

Yes, many heart-warming good deeds go unreported by the nightly news, but when compared to the evil committed against the vulnerable of our world, they seem like a band-aid on a hemorrhaging wound. Helping an old lady cross the street is good and needed, but it does not address the hideousness of children being taken from their parents and kept in cages while they scream for their mommies and daddies.

Gandhi’s famous quote: “The true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members” is an indictment on the whole world. As illustrated by children being kept in cells near our southern border, an honest look at our world reveals that it is fundamentally unjust and evil, and every human being participating in this world bears responsibility.

Some of us deny that we have any role to play, while some of us feel excused by our own indifference. As the great rock band Rush point out in their song “Freewill, “If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.” Living insulated lives in suburban America does not exempt us from seeing what is really happening to children on this planet.

Decrying the injustice he saw within his culture, the prophet Jeremiah proclaimed in Jeremiah 17:9-10:

The heart is deceitful above all things
and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?

“I the Lord search the heart
and examine the mind,
to reward each person according to their conduct,
according to what their deeds deserve.”

In a separatist religious culture that believed its food choices religiously defiled them, Jesus taught his disciples in Mark 7:21-23:

“’For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come—sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and defile a person.’”

My sweet little two-year old son loves the Disney movie Moana and watches it over and over, so I’ve probably seen snippets of it at least 75 times. As Moana’s grandmother tells the children in the opening scene, the moment the demigod Maui stole the heart of the fiti, darkness began spreading throughout the world. This is a picture of how the evil within the human heart works its way throughout society, discoloring all human relationships- self-serving politics, economic inequality, racism, war, harassment and rape, child abuse, exploitation, and on and on.

Those of us who are Christians must ask ourselves, “What does Jesus think about the most vulnerable of our society being mistreated?”

Speaking specifically about evil committed against children, in Matthew 18:1:7, we have probably the most hard-hitting words spoken by Jesus in the Gospels:

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to stumble! Such things must come, but woe to the person through whom they come!”

Tying a rock around someone’s neck and throwing him into the ocean sounds like a mob hit, and for those who mistreat children, Jesus says this would be preferable to facing God’s wrath in the age to come. He makes it crystal clear that God will deal severely with those who harm the most vulnerable in society. With the pain the children of this world are forced to endure, there are an awful lot of people who would be better off looking for millstones.

To “become like little children,” in Jesus’ words, probably means to humble ourselves and embrace learning and news ways of seeing the world, namely God’s way. As a dad, I am painfully aware that children are like little sponges. Their developing brains absorb every word and action they see in their parents, whether we want them to or not. Like a little child, we can choose to absorb God’s concern scriptural concern for justice and righteousness.

Jesus’ instruction to become like little children was given in the context of His disciples wondering who would be greatest in the coming age of God’s kingdom. They wanted status, power, and position. In contrast, Jesus urges them to humble themselves, learn, understand, and serve others instead of jockeying for a superior position.

Jesus’ teaching here is the beginning of addressing the evil in our world. What is required is a change within the human heart, that, like restoring the heart of te fiti, works its way throughout society, shining light where there was darkness and giving life where there was decay. That humbleness and willingness to serve is the only way that the most vulnerable in our world can be relieved of the evil treatment they suffer now.

The more we all become like little children, the easier it will become to be a kid.

I’m Needy

by Karen Richter

I’m needy and so are you.

How do you feel about being called needy? Why is needy such a pejorative… one of the worst things we can call someone else? As you’re reading, do you even hear that word differently, like ‘nEEEEEEEEE-dy,’ with an exaggerated tone and a little eye roll?

I'm Needy by Karen Richter, Southwest Conference Blog, United Church of Christ

 

 

 

 

 

Our culture, even in our churches, is so infused with American-style rugged individualism. For our children (in lots of families), no skill is prized more than independence. Whether it’s toileting or sleeping solo or shoe tying, we are hell-bent, so to speak, on passing on the values of independence and individualism. English idioms in the US evince a huge cultural preference for NOT being needy.

self-made / ‘self-made man’
pull up by one’s own bootstraps
your own person
independent as a hog on ice
making it / I made that
lone wolf
free mind
live and let live
cup of tea / ‘that’s not my…’
grit
stiff upper lip
spunk
stand up / ‘stand up guy’
elbow room
green light
like a dog (doggedness, dog with a bone)
run of / ‘the run of the place’

However… have you tried recently to declare your independence from oxygen? from water? from food? from sleep? … from love?

We need things, and those things are remarkably consistent from person to person. Besides the usual physical needs (food, water, air, shelter), we need respect and fairness; we need to be heard; we need our lives to have meaning; we need a sense of safety. Can you think of other needs?

Today, can you be gentle with yourself? When things go sideways, can you ask, “What need was alive in me when this happened? What need was I trying to meet?”

Today, can you be gentle with others? When you’re tempted to blame and shame, can you ask, “What need might that person be trying to meet?” Even if you guess that person’s need incorrectly, you will have awakened your spirit to empathy.

Stop worrying, then, over questions such as, “What are we to eat,” or “what are we to drink,” or “what are we to wear?” Those without faith are always running after these things. God knows everything you need. Seek first God’s reign, and God’s justice, and all these things will be given to you besides.
~Matthew 6.31-34, The Inclusive New Testament (emphasis is mine ☺)

I'm Needy by Karen Richter, Southwest Conference Blog, United Church of ChristThis kind of empathy for self and for others is a building block of Nonviolent Communication. It’s a helpful skill (I’m totally a beginner).

Explore more about human needs here.

Phoenix NVC Learners meetup

Blessings on your needy human journey!