Category: spirituality

Attitude

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ And Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening.’ Then the Lord said to Samuel, ‘See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle….I am about to punish [Eli’s] house forever…’

“Samuel lay there until morning…afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, ‘Samuel, my son….What was it that [the Lord] told you? Do not hide it from me….’ So Samuel told him everything…. Then [Eli] said, ‘It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.'” 

(1 Samuel 3:10-18…ish…)

The above passage is a significantly abbreviated version of the familiar “Calling of Samuel” passage (cf. 1 Samuel 3), wherein “the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under [the priest] Eli” (1 Samuel 3:1). Prior to what we read above, God had already called three times: “Samuel! Samuel!” And all three times Samuel had gone to Eli, saying, “You called?” The first two times, Eli said, “I didn’t call you. Go back to bed.” The third time it hit him: “Ah! GOD is calling you! If it happens again, say, ‘Yes, God? I’m listening.’” 

That’s where we pick up the story: “Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ And Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening.’” Often, it seems, the focus of this passage is on God calling, and on listening for God’s call. When I read it this week, however, there were a couple of other parts that stood out to me.

One is just Samuel’s response to hearing what was going to happen to Eli–he “lay there until morning” (cf. 1 Sam. 3:15). So, I’m not the first person (nor, I suspect, will I be the last) to lay awake until morning, my mind spinning over things (especially bad things!) that are out of my control. In fact, not only am I not the first person to spend a sleepless night, fearing what lies ahead, but I’m in good company! 

The other thing that spoke to me was Eli’s response to what Samuel told him. Samuel had just delivered some pretty unwelcome(!) news–that God was “about to punish [Eli’s] house forever” (cf. 1 Sam. 3:13). I don’t know exactly what that would look like–to have your house and family punished by God forever–but surely it’s not a good thing. Surely, in fact, it’s a terrible thing. 

And how did Eli respond? Did he say, “What?? That’s not fair!” No. Did he say, “What?? Why me??” No. Did he say, “Surely ‘forever’ doesn’t really mean forever…” No. Did he otherwise moan or whine or complain or rage? No. 

He said, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

“It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

And I thought, “Wow…if only I could adopt that attitude….” That speaks to me of trusting in God, no matter what. Of claiming God’s goodness, no matter the circumstances.

“It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

That speaks to me of trusting in a bigger picture, even though it can’t be seen. Of claiming to be part of a bigger–and better–story, even though this part sucks. 

“It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

That speaks to me of faith.

Does that mean in every situation that is “unwelcome,” we are to simply sit back and accept it, without complaining or raging? Or doing anything to change it? Of course not. 

But perhaps there are times–particularly when the unwelcome situations are out of our control (not that any of us can relate to that concept…!)–when an attitude of “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him” could be helpful.

Just a thought.

Peace be with us all.
Deb

Epiphany 2021

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

Sometimes God seems so invisible … trying to see God is like trying to see the white paint along the edge of the highway … while we drive white-knuckled through a white-out snowstorm. Sometimes God seems so silent … listening for God is like listening to the snow falling during the bleak midwinter… can you hear the snow falling?

Some of my earliest Christmas memories date back to when my brother and I were very young. We sat on the light blue shag carpet in the den by the crackling fire in the fireplace. Our great-grandmother Lulu sat in her chair by the fire, wrapped up in a crochet afghan that reminded me of a multi-colored, warm waffle. Our grandfather Emmett looked out the big picture window and asked me, “Can you hear the snow falling?” “No,” I replied, “but I can SEE it.” And then my grandfather taught my brother and me that we must use our imaginations and listen to the stories of our ancestors to “hear” God’s voice. My mother reinforced these stories as we grew in faith and now I have passed them along to my own children. Listen to the stories of our spiritual ancestors and then use your imagination (and what science and history have taught you) to fill in the blanks in the story.

After Christmas had passed and we were counting the days until Epiphany, my grandfather pulled out his well-worn old King James version of his Bible with a genuine leather cover. He turned to Matthew and read selections from chapter two. The story that he read to us sounded something like this:

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is this child who has been born king of the Jews? For we have observed his star at its rising, and we have come to pay him homage.’ Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was…they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” (Matthew 2:1-2, 7-11, New Revised Standard Version)

Much of what follows has grown out of my (mostly) German family traditions which have evolved as our ancestors told stories near the fireplace. Some of this is fact, some is fiction, some is what might have happened or what could have happened… some of what follows can be proven and some cannot. But all of this is the story that my family has always told as we counted the twelves days from Christmas to the Epiphany. Giving credit to appropriate historical sources to back this up is impossible here… this is the story my family has always told as we roasted … “chestnuts on the open fire.”

Magi on dining room table with four candles lit

Epiphany follows the Twelve Days of Christmas (which usually are counted from December 26 until January 6, which is the Twelfth Day). The four Advent candles in our Advent wreath have been replaced by the twelve white candles on our fireplace mantle, representing the supposed twelve-day journey of the wise kings to Bethlehem. Thus, in our home, the three kings with a camel or two and a few rocks painted gold start at the east end of our 8-foot dining table. Each night for twelve nights, we march the kings forward, inching more closely to the baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph who are set up on the west end of the table. Each night as the kings move from east to west, we light one more candle, indicating one more day on this long journey to Bethlehem.

The colors of Epiphany are white, representing newness, and gold, representing kingship. The word, “epiphany” means “to show” or “to make known” or “to reveal.” We remember the wise ones who brought gifts to the Christ child and they “reveal” to all the known world that Jesus is King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Were there really three kings? We do not know how many kings (or magi or wise ones or astrologers) there were. But the scripture indicates that these wise ones brought three gifts. What is important is not the number of kings, but the gifts that they brought to Jesus. We were taught these were symbolic gifts, foreshadowing what Jesus would be for us and for all humankind. At our Epiphany feast each year, my mother would put out the gifts by our place-settings that the kings brought to the baby Jesus: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

1. The gold represents kingship. When were we young children, chocolate coins covered with gold foil represented the gold the kings brought to Jesus. The significance of this gift was the foreshadowing that the baby Jesus would grow to be our king.

2. The frankincense represents the priestly function of Jesus (as the “great high priest”). Burning a bit of frankincense in a small dish at each place-setting reminded me of how holy, other-worldly, and “God-like” Jesus must be. Frankincense is highly fragrant when burned and was (and still is) used by some priests in worship.

3. The myrrh represents the humanness of Jesus. He had a real body and one day he would die and be buried. Myrrh is made from the sap of a tree and was used in biblical times for embalming the dead. A few drops of myrrh essential oil in a small dish at each place-setting reminded me of a damp, decaying, and musty forest.

2020 finally has ended. Seeing God and hearing God in 2020 was challenging for so many as we navigated a global pandemic. And now we begin our journey forward into 2021. As we move into the year ahead, listen, look, give your gifts to the new-born Christ child in the manger, and recall the lyrics to a familiar Christmas carol (written by Gloria Shayne Baker and Noel Regney):

Said the night wind to the little lamb:
“Do you see what I see?
Way up in the sky, little lamb
Do you see what I see?
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite”

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy:
“Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
A song, a song, high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea”

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king:
“Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold”

Said the king to the people everywhere:
“Listen to what I say!
Pray for peace, people everywhere!
Listen to what I say!
The Child, the Child, sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light”

featured image credit: Robert Bisser

other images credit: Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

A New Year’s Haiku

by Rev. Deb Worley

“For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord,
plans for your welfare and not for harm, 
to give you a future with hope.” 
(Jeremiah 29:11)
 

Most of you do not know this about me (although it won’t surprise you!), but every year for the past, maybe, twenty- (?) years, I have written a Christmas letter. And this is no ordinary Christmas letter. For most of those years, it has been a rhyming Christmas letter. And sometimes, even set to a tune (one year, for example, I wrote our family’s version of “My Favorite Things” from the Sound of Music! Yes, really…). I strive to make it informative, yes, but more than that, I try to make it fun to read. I do not, typically–and this is the part that really won’t surprise you–try to make it brief!! 

This year, as the Christmas season was approaching, a friend suggested, somewhat in jest (but not, I suspect, entirely!), that I try to write a Christmas haiku. You know–the Japanese form of poetry that consists of three lines, with five and seven and five syllables, respectively. 

After I stopped laughing hysterically at the thought of summarizing this year in only seventeen syllables, I decided to try it! I came up with several options, but this was the winner: 

Challenges abound…
Seeming insurmountable…
Breathe. This, too, shall pass.

As you might expect, it has been quite an exercise for me, using such a short form of poetry to express emotion and capture meaning. But it has been, in fact, quite a thought-provoking exercise…and I’ve expanded it beyond “just” my Christmas letter.

I also decided to try to compose one as a New Year’s “offering,” a haiku prayer of sorts. While I was standing in line at the post office today, I actually came up with two. And I share them with you here, for whatever they may be worth: 

Breathe. You can trust me.
I am doing a new thing…
Come be part of it…. 

and

This year is ending.
New life and change are coming.
Breathe. Trust. Watch. Hope. Breathe…

 There seems to be a bit of a theme, in all three of those last haikus. I suppose it’s something I, at least, need to hear and be reminded of. And that is to “Breathe.” 

To breathe in God’s peace and breathe out anxiety. To breathe in God’s presence and breathe out isolation. To breathe in God’s hope and breathe out despair. To breathe in God’s love and breathe out fear.

As this crazy year comes to end, dear friends, breathe…As a new year begins, breathe… As we move from one day to the next, one month to the next, one year to the next, not knowing what is in store, good or bad, comfortable or uncomfortable, desired or not, breathe…and trust…and watch…and hope…and breathe.


Happy New Year, and God’s peace be with us all.

Deb

Burning a Yule Log & Looking for a Bright Star

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

In a previous city in which I had lived, my friends hosted an annual, festive Winter Solstice party in their home. It was held on or near the winter solstice (which is on or near December 21). Because of my ministry as a pastor of a church, the season of Advent (the four weeks before Christmas) and Christmastide (the 12 days from December 25 through January 5) was a busy time for me. Nonetheless, I always found it refreshing to gather with friends around the yule log and observe the winter solstice…

Just a quick review: the winter solstice is the shortest day of the year. After the winter solstice, the days start to get longer. People observed the winter solstice long before Christianity was established. Many Advent and Christmas customs that Christians observe (e.g., Christmas trees and lighting candles) have roots in much older traditions and ancient folk customs that were later absorbed by Christianity. For example, in Scandinavian countries long ago a “yule log” was rolled through the streets then burned in a symbolic bonfire (hopefully, to destroy the sorrows of the past year and bring good tidings of hope and joy to the city and its residents in the future).

… Back to the Winter Solstice party. Each year, guests at this this party were invited to bring a small remembrance (perhaps written on a piece of paper) or a sprig of something flammable (like a piece of a dried stick or a tiny evergreen branch) to place upon the yule log. I always thought about what I wanted to burn – get rid of – from the past year for some significant amount of time before this gathering. As I reflected on the season that had passed, I always had something to burn (either literally or symbolically). Other people at this gathering symbolically put their disappointments, failures, bad choices, addictions, sins, and just “garbage” on that yule log along with me. (I am so glad that this was a communal event and not something that one must do all alone.)

After food, drink, and some readings appropriate for the winter solstice, the strongest people of the bunch would lug that yule log with all our sadness, grief, sorrow, and regret to the huge fireplace in the living room. I would typically recall the lyrics to an old drinking song-turned-Christmas carol that has been adapted over the centuries:

Deck the hall with boughs of holly,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
‘Tis the season to be jolly,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Fill the meadcup, drain the barrel,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Troll the ancient Yule-tide carol,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!

See the blazing yule before us,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Strike the harp and join the chorus.
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Follow me in merry measure,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
While I sing of yuletide treasure,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la! *


I usually stood there with tears in my eyes – sometimes with a feeling of regret and sometimes with a feeling of relief as I watched the yule log (with all our collective disappointments upon it) go up in blazes.

Perhaps this year as we all prepare for Christmas, we would be wise to burn our sorrows and sins of 2020 on a yule log… or upon any log… in a cozy fireplace, in a blazing outdoor firepit, even over a flaming candle. What are the things that you would chose to burn up before meeting the Christ child born for us on Christmas morn? Our racism, sexism, classism, and some other “ism” of which we are guilty? The confusion brought upon us by Covid-19 and our 8 months of social distancing? Our stressful Presidential (and other) elections? Please join me in burning up our regrets and disappointments of 2020.

I will be looking up at the night sky on the Winter Solstice and I hope that you will, too. Astronomers call the Winter Solstice of 2020 the “Great Conjunction.” Jupiter and Saturn will be so close to each other that it just might look like the legendary star of Bethlehem over the place where the baby Jesus was born!

Here is a link to a scientifically correct article about what to expect this year on December 21.

As Christmas draws near, look up into the night sky, burn a yule log, raise a celebratory mug of some festive beverage, and reflect upon this familiar piece of scripture (Matthew 2:9-11 NRSV):

“When they [the wise men or astrologers] had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage.” Amen.

*Lots of versions of “Deck the Halls” are available. Wikipedia indicates “The English-language lyrics were written by the Scottish musician Thomas Oliphant. They first appeared in 1862, in volume 2 of Welsh Melodies, a set of four volumes authored by John Thomas, including Welsh words by John Jones (Talhaiarn) and English words by Oliphant. The repeated “fa la la” goes back to the earlier Welsh and may originate from medieval ballads.”

Here is what I have done every day during the pandemic.

by Gordon Street, SWC Commissioned Minister for Reimagining and Connecting with the God of One’s Own Understanding

Faith and spiritual practices sustain me during this uncertain pandemic era and unprecedented election season. Because my ministry focuses on helping people connect with a God of their own understanding, I want to share a few thoughts about what has helped personally these last many months.

The solution always is faith. But what does faith really mean? A quirk of the English language is that faith can be only a noun when it really should be a verb because faith is not what I think, it is what I do. Paul, in Hebrews, says “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” That means faith is the result of hope, the evidence of the unknowable. How I choose to face each day and what I do during the course of each day produces faith. Faith does not guide my actions. Actions produce my faith.

Here is what I have done every day during the pandemic. Each day I begin with a prayer for wisdom, strength, willingness and courage to face the things I must face. I also pray for the world, my family, my First Church beloved community, and my friends, to help them in all their needs. Most important is my prayer that God’s will be done in their lives as well as mine. I don’t pray for outcomes. I pray for attitudes in circumstances.

I, like most people, am cooped up at home. I reach out the friends, family and even strangers every day to see how I can be of service to them and give words of hope and encouragement.

In other words, I pray for faith for myself, and the rest of my prayers are for everyone else. Take the focus off of me. I believe my prayers and actions embody Jesus’ suggestion that we love God with all of our being and love our neighbors as we love ourselves.

Faith doesn’t mean everything will be alright, and I’ll win the lottery too.

God doesn’t necessarily make everything all better. God grants me the willingness, strength, and courage to handle whatever I am facing. God is with me and embracing me through it all. Especially during difficult times. I am comforted by knowing I’m not alone in difficulty.

Untangling the Mess

by Deb Worley

“Trust God from the bottom of your heart;
     don’t try to figure out everything on your own.
 Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;
     [God] is the one who will keep you on track.”
                                             (Proverbs 3:5-6, The Message)

While she was away, Sarah learned to crochet…and has become a bit of a blanket-making machine! “Everyone’s getting a blanket for Christmas this year!” So as not to be left out of the fun, I asked her if she would teach me. What you see in the picture above was my first attempt! Not bad, right? She’s a good teacher.

But what you don’t see is the fact that it was becoming narrower and narrower–I couldn’t seem to figure out how to keep the edges straight. What a mess! If I kept going, it was clearly going to end up in the shape of a triangle, rather than the more “traditional” rectangular shape of most blankets! So I pulled it all out so that I might start again. Yes, really….

I quickly got the first part of the yarn rolled up without too much trouble…but then the process came to a screeching halt. Talk about a mess! I had a neat-looking ball of yarn on one side and a big, tangled mess on the other….

Knots, knots, and more knots. If I pulled too hard, the knots only got harder to untangle. If I tried to go too fast, the mess only got worse…. I had to go slowly, be patient, and take my time…not to mention lots of deep breaths! Slowly but surely, the knots got undone and the mess grew smaller….

And finally, after several hours and many deep breaths (and only a few curses muttered under my breath!), voila! Done! Untangled! No more mess! Ahhh… Ready to start over with a new project.

Perhaps with help?…Did you notice the little foot, and whiskers, at the very top??… Meet Winston, one of our cats. Always ready to “help”!    

It struck me, in the midst of that process, that there were some similarities between it and what we’re all living through in this season. A year ago at this time, things were moving along, not perfectly for sure but in a way that seemed at least recognizable, sort of like me crocheting my blanket. And then, somewhere between January and March, things began to unravel. We weren’t doing the unraveling on purpose, certainly, but it happened just the same. And we were all left with a big, tangled mess.

A big, tangled mess that we are still in the middle of and that we all want desperately to untangle, so that we can start moving forward again, with a “new project,” if you will. Or even just get back to what we were doing before. And like with my mess of yarn, sometimes it seems that the more we pull, the more knotted it all becomes. And the faster we try to go, the worse it seems to get….

Perhaps some of the same strategies I used in untangling my mess of yarn can be helpful as we try to–or at least want to–untangle the mess we continue to find ourselves in. This is nothing new, of course, but I for one benefit from an occasional reminder! Perhaps, in this ninth month of COVID restrictions, we can benefit from some renewed patience…some regular deep breaths…and maybe even a few curses muttered under the breath (or shouted out loud?!)….

And additionally, as people of faith, perhaps we can also benefit from remembering, as the wise author of Proverbs reminds us, to trust God from the bottom of our hearts, knowing that we don’t have to–in fact, we can’t–figure out everything on our own. Perhaps, as people of faith, we can remember to listen for God’s voice, trusting that God is the one who will keep us on track. Easier said than done, for sure. But worth a continued effort.

Being patient will help, yes. Breathing deeply will help, absolutely. And in my experience, there’s a definite place for the occasional, appropriately expressed outburst(!). But I would suggest that the most critical piece in getting to the other side of this big, tangled mess in which we continue to find ourselves–and it’s perhaps also the most difficult piece for us high-achieving, do-it-yourself-ers–is trusting God.

Be patient–and trust God.
Breathe deeply–and trust God.
Shake your fist, shout at the heavens, curse a blue streak–and keep trusting God. 

And we will get to the other side of this big, tangled mess, with God at our side, ready for whatever new project awaits us….

Thanks be to God!
Deb

Right Now I Don’t Know How to Pray

by Deb Worley

“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” (Romans 8:26-27, NRSV)

There have been times in my life when I have not known how to pray. I don’t mean that I have not known “the formula” for prayer (for example, Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Supplication) or the posture for prayer (for example, hands clasped, head bowed). I mean that I have not known how to pray–when attempts at Adoration turn into expression of anger and Thanksgiving feels hollow, when words cannot even be formulated and when a bowed head results only in tears….

Perhaps others of you have lived through these experiences as well. I suspect so… Perhaps others of you are even living through moments like these now, in these times in which we all find ourselves. There’s so much in our lives and in our world that continues to be uncertain, so much that can feel unsettling in our bodies, minds, and souls, so much that can lead us, perhaps, to feeling like we don’t know how to pray….

In those moments, in these moments, we can be grateful for the Holy Spirit. Or–well–maybe, if we are truly honest, not in those moments–those moments when we are overwhelmed with fist-shaking anger, free-flowing tears, mind-numbing confusion, heartbreaking despair, those moments when hope seems distant, when healing seems a desperate wish, when wholeness seems out of reach–maybe not in those moments…but perhaps outside of them, in the moments when the magnitude of those emotions has subsided, we can be grateful for the Holy Spirit. Perhaps because of those moments, we can give thanks for the Holy and ever-present Spirit of the Living God, who helps us and holds us and sustains us and stands in for us, interceding on our behalf with sighs too deep for words….

Thank you, Spirit of the Living God…because right now I don’t know how to pray…

Peace be with us all.

Deb

Burn the Gloom

by Victoria S. Ubben

“…he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; as one from whom others hide their faces…Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases…But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.”

This (above) is part of Isaiah 53 (in the Old Testament of the Bible). I grew up in congregations of the United Church of Christ and most years on Good Friday I heard this piece of Hebrew scripture read and then I imagined that these words from the prophet Isaiah were to be applied to Jesus Christ. I have come to learn that many traditions look for a scapegoat or a savior to make right our wrongs of the past. Some traditions are meaningful and lasting and some traditions that emerge are short-lived or just for fun. Here is a tale about a Santa Fe tradition that is meaningful AND fun.

For 96 years in a row the people of Santa Fe, New Mexico, have observed a unique custom known now as the “Burning of Zozobra.” This has become a collective way for the citizens here to rid our hearts, our homes, and our city of all things negative and unwanted. September of 2020 is a good time to burn the negativity and gloominess of the past 6 months or so.

The story is: back in 1924 a local Santa Fe artist named Will Shuster built an ugly, flammable effigy – something like a scarecrow we saw on the midwestern farms of yesteryear. This effigy originally was 6 feet tall (about the size of a man), but over the decades, this effigy has grown to be over 50 feet tall and has become one of the world’s tallest marionettes. Yes, Zozobra has morphed into a marionette — citizens below this huge effigy move his arms as he groans and moans as he goes down in flames.

Why is this flammable monster called “Zozobra” amongst the locals in Santa Fe? Some say that the name comes from a Spanish expression meaning “the gloomy one,” while some say that it is loosely related to the Spanish word for “anxiety.” Be it gloom or anxiety (or both), this effigy takes all the gloom and anxiety (and disappointment and sorrow and pain) into himself (literally) and then the effigy and all that is inside it is burnt.

In years past, locals stuffed the head and body of this effigy with things flammable like old parking tickets, divorce papers, paid off mortgage debt, notices of late fees, and bad report cards (“glooms”). This year, due to the pandemic, Santa Feans who wanted to send their troubles and sorrows up in smoke were asked to email them into the project headquarters where they were printed out and stuffed inside. 

September 4, 2020, was the date of the previously-scheduled burning of Zozobra at a park near my home, strategically located right next to the fire station. If our city is planning a huge bonfire, locating it next to the fire station is a great idea (and remember, Santa Fe in September is known for its high winds and a very dry climate: a certain recipe for fire disaster). Due to the social-distancing mandate imposed by the Covid-19 pandemic, we stayed home and had great front-row seats in our backyard. We sat out back and watched Zozobra burn and then we wrote down and then tossed our own troubles and regrets into the small, controlled fire that I had prepared on our brick patio.

Ponder: How can this distinctive Santa Fe tradition of burning Zozobra inspire you as you navigate the journey ahead?

Specifically, are you tired of the pandemic? Is online education for your children difficult? Zoom meetings tedious? Tired of the racism, injustice, and political unrest in our country? Missing your friends and your church community?  Just sick of it all?

Or… reflect on what you have done to cause gloom or anxiety for others. What do you want to leave behind? What can you burn (literally or figuratively) so that you can begin anew? Write down your anxieties and your “gloom.” Burn them up.

While the Zozobra effigy of Santa Fe is certainly not a willing scapegoat, he is a symbolic representation of the burning of all that is evil and anxiety-producing in our culture. In the many diverse branches of the Christian “family tree,” Jesus is sometimes understood as the one who somehow sets us free from our burdens and worries. So, whatever your tradition might be, perhaps some fire (e.g., a candle) and a prayer might be healing and helpful during this Covid-19 time.

To get you started, here is a paraphrased version of part of an Ash Wednesday prayer that is often used in congregations of the United Church of Christ:

We confess to you, O God, all our past unfaithfulness. The pride, hypocrisy, and impatience in our lives. We confess to you, O God, our self-indulgent appetites and ways and our exploitation of other people. We confess our anger at our own frustration and our envy of those more fortunate than ourselves. We confess our love of worldly goods and comforts and our dishonesty in our daily life and work. Restore us, O God, for your mercy is great. Amen.

(This prayer is paraphrased from Book of Worship © 1986 Office of Church Life and Leadership, United Church of Christ, pp. 182-183.)

images credit: Robert Bisser

Breaking Away

by Victoria S Ubben

Ecclesiastes 3:1 reminds us that, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.”  Is there a season for a pandemic?  Is there a time for Covid-19?  Is there a time when this social-distancing and mask-wearing will end?

As I spend time during this Covid-19 pandemic reflecting on more than 32 years of ordained ministry with the United Church of Christ, there is always some sorrow as one ministry concludes, and another begins. 

image credit: Doug Ross, multimedia journalist

I resigned from a pastoral team at a church that I had been serving for seven-and-a-half years in 2013 because (1) that “season” had ended and (2) God was calling me and some other ministers to try a new sort of ministry in our city.  The purpose of this new calling was to launch a parachurch ministry to reach and serve the rapidly growing number of people who were choosing not to engage in traditional churches. Our downtown-based ministry was called “BreakAway” because it did not sound like a name of a church.  We rented space upstairs, above a popular restaurant, right across the street from our county courthouse, in a place that did not look like a church. “BreakAway Ministry” began gradually in 2013, was full-time by 2015, and then (as quickly as we had begun) we were called on to something new.  By 2016 this season for this unique downtown ministry had come to an end; God’s still-speaking voice had called me onward to a new form of ministry in rural Indiana.

Moving out of our rental space, shutting down a Facebook page, obtaining a new email address, dis-assembling our webpage, printing hard copies of a three-year inspirational blog, thanking our donors, and saying “good-bye” to those who had shared a BreakAway journey with us… carried significant sorrow.  What was once effective and worthwhile, no longer could be “packaged” in the same way.  BreakAway lived for three years and sustained countless people on a spiritual journey who may never find their way back to the organized church again.  Our memories of a three-year ministry (2013 to 2016) are always tinged with joy and gladness as we reflect on them now.

image credit: Doug Ross, multimedia journalist

The Covid-19 pandemic has changed us.  Some of what once was, shall never return.  Parts of what used to work in our lives and in ministry may not work now…or in the future.  Could it be that God reminds us through this pandemic that pieces of what was meaningful, effective, and useful in the not-so-distant past…are already gone?  With God’s grace, we shall move through this pandemic and onto new ways of doing things.  This season of a pandemic teaches us that sometimes we must break away from the way things used to be… and make some bold, new discoveries in this moment in time.  In just 6 months of this pandemic, many of our churches (and various ministries) already have changed and adapted.  Will we ever be the same again?  Probably not.

Look to Jesus as our example; his ministry adapted to the situation in which he found himself.  He certainly broke away from the religious establishment of his day and he met people where they were, and in the ways that he could.  Jesus met with lepers, tax collectors, and prostitutes (to name a few).  He met them on a mountain, by the river, on a lake, and in an upper room.

image credit: Doug Ross, multimedia journalist

There is a season.  There is a time.  There are people waiting…here and now…to hear God’s word of grace and peace.

Prayer for this season:  Oh God, you are the One who enables us to break away from whatever holds us back.  Enable us to adapt in the ways that we must during this pandemic so that what we do glorifies you and uplifts other people along the way.  Amen.