Southwest Conference Blog

Grace…It’s for More than Just Dinnertime

by Carol Reynolds, Pastor, Scottsdale Congregational UCC

Grace, it strikes me, is one of those “squishy” words that’s hard to put your finger on, seemingly impossible to define, save for the prayers of gratitude and blessing we say before digging into our meals. It’s a theological concept, but it’s more than that. It’s a characteristic of God that we aspire to, some of us more successfully than others; but it’s even more than that! When we add a “ful” to the end of it, I begin to picture something more concrete and outwardly beautiful—a ballerina, a horse, someone with really good posture who treads lightly upon the earth, etc.

I felt vindicated when I went to look grace up in my Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms the other day. Beyond the “generic” version, which spoke briefly of kindness and unmerited favor, there were fully SIXTEEN types of grace listed and defined!!

actual grace
cheap grace
common grace
cooperating grace
efficacious grace
free grace
glorifying grace
habitual grace
irresistible grace
justifying grace
prevenient grace
sanctifying grace
saving grace
special grace
sufficient grace
universal grace

That’s a whole lot of grace! It reminds me of the fact that the Inuit have 40+ ways to refer to snow, which is pretty modest compared to the Sami of northern Russia and Scandinavia, whom I just learned have 180 words related to snow and ice and as many as 1000 for reindeer![1]

Obviously, to require that extensive a vocabulary for a single concept, it’s got to be something with which people have had A LOT of experience, to which they’ve given a lot of thought, and about which they care a great deal. As far as grace goes, suffice it to say that, in life, we experience a lot of it, which manifests in a host of specific ways. Which must also mean that we need a lot of grace in our lives.Perhaps never has this been truer than today, in the midst of this COVID-19 pandemic that has been our reality for over 10 months now. In many ways we’ve adapted thanks to the high tech means of communications available to us in 2020. We’ve got our weekly worship services, we’ve got our regularly scheduled check-ins with friends and family, we’ve got our shipments of essentials from Amazon and Chewy.com to keep trips to stores to a minimum. And yet…

There are many silver linings to the isolation we’ve had to impose upon ourselves to stay safe; yet loneliness and boredom are unavoidable, nevertheless. In many respects, we’re living out Bill Murray’s iconic Groundhog Day film, waking up to the same day over and over and over again. Sometimes I’m surprised there’s anything at all left to talk about with others!

One thing that does change regularly is the number of people contracting and dying from the virus. Lately they’ve gotten so high that I daresay they defy the 21^st Century human imagination. Thank God PBS Newshour makes a point each Friday of sharing the stories of several of the latest victims, giving them human faces and touching, inspirational life stories, lest we come to think of these 250,000+ souls as little more than numbers on a screen.The thing is, no matter if and whether the astronomical numbers cease to outwardly shock us, they’re quietly taking their toll on each of us within, particularly as they land closer and closer to home. Whether we want to admit it or not, what we are experiencing, what the ENTIRE WORLD is experiencing right now is trauma. Trying to absorb and conceive of death on this scale, trying to protect ourselves from a threat that is at once invisible and mysterious, aggressive and hard to pin down for long, this is terrifying stuff, the stuff of horror movies and aspects of medieval European history we’d just as soon forget.

I say all of this not to deeply frighten or depress you, but to help us understand where we’re all coming from these days and to help us to offer our selves and one another that much cherished aspect of God’s character…GRACE. Perhaps never has it been more needed, as together, the whole world, finds itself in the throes of PTSD. Some of us are already quite familiar with this phenomenon in our lives, others not so much. It can manifest in a whole host of ways, but I’d like to highlight a few that I’ve been experiencing in myself and others in recent weeks. Perhaps the most prevalent one is what I like to call “COVID brain,” which can look like an abnormally high level of fuzziness and forgetfulness, slower rates of thinking, tracking, and processing information or communications, difficulty finding words or articulating ideas, etc. it can also look like heightened fears or anxieties, impatience, irritability, frustration, or general crabbiness. In extreme cases, it may have physical effects, perhaps even re-igniting pain from old, physically traumatic injuries.

This year Thanksgiving comes to us at the exact right time, for thankfulness, gratitude, these are wonderful antidotes to so many of the things we’re experiencing. But the grace part, especially, is what our souls crave and, indeed, need, right now. Both grace for ourselves to receive and grace to give to others. Having said that grace is such a “squishy” word, what does that mean, exactly? It means striving to create a sense of spaciousness in our lives and in our interactions. It means giving ourselves and one another the benefit of the doubt, rather than rushing to criticize or blame or assume the worst of intentions on the other person’s part. It means asking what someone meant before accepting the story we’ve already crafted in our own minds as the truth and accusing them accordingly. It’s defaulting to compassion instead of blame and approaching all things from the realization that none of us is fully able to be our best selves right now, as much as we’d like to be; that, whether or not we’re willing to admit it, we’re all a tad sluggish and confused, cranky and scared; that 2020 hasn’t been kind to any of us.

So let’s not leave grace at the Thanksgiving dinner table this year. Let’s spread it near and wide, like the Christmas cards of old, like the holiday cheer we wish we could invoke in person but will still have plenty of opportunities to conjure up in our many virtual spaces.

The Advent season we’re about to enter is all about waiting. Waiting for the much anticipated birth of a precious baby and so much more, of the manifestation of God’s dream of joy and abundance, peace and justice for ALL people and indeed for ALL of creation. Never have we known more about waiting, whether for Promised Lands or for simple human touch. God is with us. God understands our pain and yearning. And God’s grace covers every single thing we’ve said or done and regretted throughout our lives. But especially during this deeply trying time in human and natural history. God will gladly share that grace—abundantly–with each one of us. All we need to do is ask and set the intention for ourselves.Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.

May God’s grace, peace, and love be with each one of you and with all living things. Amen.

[1] https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/health-science/there-really-are-50-eskimo-words-for-snow/2013/01/14/e0e3f4e0-59a0-11e2-beee-6e38f5215402_story.html

A Thanksgiving mini-miracle at Oro Valley UCC

guest post by Janet Delgado, office manager at Oro Valley UCC

written the morning of Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 28, 2019

I just put my potato casserole in the oven. It needs to be ready this afternoon when I carry it across town to spend the rest of the day with good friends. While it’s baking, I want to take a minute to say, “Happy Thanksgiving” to all of you. Working as the Office Manager at Oro Valley United Church of Christ is a blessing for me as I witness your kindness on a regular basis.

Around 10:00 on Tuesday morning I received a phone call from a lovely OVUCC member-couple. They asked if I knew of anyone that might be alone, and thus eating alone, on Thanksgiving Day. If I heard of someone, they hoped to invite that person, whoever it might be, to join them at their table to share a traditional turkey dinner.

A short time later, about noon on Tuesday, I had a call from another caring member. She was concerned about a church member she knew that would be alone on Thursday and hoped to find company for them. I told her I would see what could be arranged and let her know.

The get-together was arranged. From two simple phone calls to the church office, I believe a “mini-miracle” happened. There was a need and God brought good people together that met that need.

My casserole smells good as it’s baking and makes my little house feel cozy. Particularly on this day, it reminds me how fortunate I am not to suffer hunger and to have shelter. However, as I now live alone and am aging, I am reminded that I could suffer “aloneness.” Thanks to the good people that I am surrounded by, and with God’s intervention and guidance, I know that won’t happen at OVUCC—no aloneness here!

Later today I will sit at a table with another OVUCC member-couple and their friends. I was invited, along with another single lady, to join them for their lovingly prepared thanksgiving meal. As we go around the table and recite what we are thankful for, my prayer will be, “Thank you God for the people at this table, thank You for my far-away family, thank You for letting me regularly see the kindness of my fellow church members, and thank You for letting me witness Your mini-miracles that happen so often at Oro Valley United Church of Christ. Amen.”

Have a lovely Thanksgiving Day,

Warmly, Janet Delgado

Black Transgender Lives Matter

by Hailey Lyons

Every day, our black trans siblings deal with the intersection of white supremacy and transphobia. Every day they risk misgendering, violence, and murder simply by living as themselves. They are targeted for hate crimes and are the targets of racist and transphobic jokes from construction sites to comfortable CEO offices. Our president propagates white supremacy. Our supposed democratic republic sets up barriers to the recognition of trans people and institutes policies to further the exploitation of people of color. Our prison system profits from the mass incarceration of black people.

We in the UCC need to be uncomfortable. We need to challenge white supremacy in our own spaces just as much as we fight the system. We need to recognize our complicity in and benefit from the systems of whiteness. The UCC has done and continues to do much of that work, but we need to go further than consciousness-raising and discomfort. We must destroy white privilege. We must tear asunder the structures in place that affirm whiteness. We must reconsider our beloved traditions that keep many of our congregations in a bygone era rooted in whiteness.

Black trans activists started the LGBT equality movement in America, and it is precisely their voices that are being erased in current movements toward LGBT equality and recognition. Being Open and Affirming is not enough, we need to aggressively model celebration of the trans community in our congregations and in public. Too often the Open and Affirming creed is simply an open door that trans people walk through and realize that our congregations are just another heteronormative, cisgender-dominated space.

When Jesus stormed the temple grounds, upending tables and tossing out people and animals alike, he called out the temple for becoming a house of commodities. Rather than a holy place, the temple commodified the acts of worship into a system of profit condoned by the so-called priests of God. Jesus violently cleansed the temple of its commodification, disrupting an economy benefiting those in power and exploiting the people. The first Isaiah delivered a stinging rebuke on the stench of the multitude of burnt offerings given to God because they are rooted in the commodification of worship itself. He attacked the very system set up to atone for the sins of Israel because it was a morally empty venture intent on appeasing God by adhering to tradition without passion. Rather, the Israelites should, “learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow,”.

The churches of my Evangelical upbringing denied the existence of racism, denied the existence of those who weren’t cisgender. Even as they brought in diverse people, the theological message never strayed from white supremacy. The worship style changed, and the music became more upbeat and ‘contemporary’ – which was just a few thousand rip-offs of whatever U2 was producing – but the theology itself was morally bankrupt, leading them to commodify both the acts of worship and worship itself.

It is a privilege to be in the UCC where our theology acknowledges the sin of white supremacy and actively works to dismantle systemic racism. But don’t stop there. Let us carry forward the work into our liturgies, our polity, and our acts of worship. Let us dismantle the systems of whiteness still present in our congregations and hierarchies. For all lives to matter, black trans lives must also matter, and that means confronting our ideologies of white supremacy and transphobia, challenging those legacies wherever we see them, especially in our congregations.

Going Along to Get Along Can Be Deadly

by James Briney

In service to a political outcome, smart people are manipulating facts just as competent attorneys do, depending on whether they represent a plaintiff or defendant. Being clever and being right are different things. When we fail to think for ourselves, we become susceptible to questionable sources, and vulnerable to ‘the clever’ in pursuit of their own agenda.

In the days to come, the nature of our governance and our very lives are at stake. It is imperative to think clearly and to act accordingly. There is no virtue in going along to get along when we have the power to save lives and to become a more perfect union.

As a natural phenomena, herd immunity that can’t be avoided is a daunting reality. Advocating, promoting, and practicing herd immunity exacerbates an already deadly threat. It amounts to reckless endangerment.

A revealing number of decision makers have pursued a deadly response to the virus that is killing us by the hundreds of thousands. They had options. They were advised what to do. They chose not to.

Clarity comes to mind when we make decisions based on the health and safety of all creation. We don’t have to be stupid to do dumb things. It’s not too late to make informed choices in the interest of our own health and safety.

For those who believe that we have turned the corner in terms of the virus, think about what happens when a corner is taken at a high rate of speed. This is one of those times when we are called upon to stand up and be counted, not merely to go along to get along with those at the wheel who are putting us in danger.

Remembering Our Saints

by Victoria S. Ubben

Halloween 2020, will be a Halloween like no other in the history of the USA. These really are frightening times for our nation and the world. We need not encourage our children and grandchildren to be “spooked” by ghosts and goblins and vampires and bats this year.

Our family knows personally of several people who have died recently from Coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19), and perhaps your family does, too. (Thankfully, we also know of some who have recovered from COVID-19.) Besides remembering lives lost by COVID-19, this is the time to remember other lives lost due to violence, accidents, or various illnesses and other conditions.

I offer you three ways that you might find comfort in your distress.

1. Music might help. To help me remember all of the saints who have died this year, I recently to listened to a recorded version of Requiem in D minor, Op. D by Gabriel Faure’ (1845-1924) and I share with you a link to a video so that you can hear it also.

Here is an English translation of some of the Latin lyrics that are comforting and uplifting during what is a sad or frightening time to many people:

“May eternal light shine on them, O Lord,
with Thy saints forever,
because Thou are merciful.

Grant them eternal rest, O Lord,
and may perpetual light shine on them.”

2. Inspirational Prose might help. To help us remember all the saints who have died this year, find some prose or poetry with strong visual images. Here is one of my favorites:

Gone from My Sight by Henry Van Dyke (1852-1933)

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, “There, she is gone!”

“Gone where?” Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!” There are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: “Here she comes!”

And that is dying.

3. Biblical readings and liturgy might help. To help us remember all the saints who have died this year, turn to the ancient scripture, liturgy, and religious traditions. Try reading these aloud (either alone or 6 feet apart from others). Here is a benediction with which to close.

One Voice: With clean hands and pure hearts, hold fast to the faith of the saints who went before us.

Many Voices: In our living and in our dying, we all belong to God.

One Voice: With hopeful hearts and expectant spirits, receive the blessing of Almighty God.

Many Voices: In our living and in our dying, we all belong to God.

One Voice: Thanks be to God! Amen.

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

Herd Immunity and Bearing Witness

by James Briney

Baseless beliefs practiced with intention are not a solution for what ails us as a nation. Holding fast to false hope founded on political calculation is an invitation to annihilation. Those who embrace the notion of herd immunity are a threat to safe practices. Herd immunity with intention is political and medical malpractice that is endangering everyone.

Sin is compounded and magnified when people are encouraged to follow a path strewn with errant convictions. It is problematic that individuals go astray. It is far worse to lead others astray. Fostering the conditions for herd immunity is a sin.

Instead of taking responsibility, decision makers at the highest levels have fragmented their response. They did the opposite of what the new testament is all about which is to notice, to care and to act within our means as a community. Hold accountable the current administration that knew of the threat months before taking minimally effective actions.

Sound decisions and best practices are born when we make an issue about caring for others. That notion applies to individuals as well as those in positions of public trust. Early on the present administration was warned in certain terms that action must be taken without delay to counter the virus that plagues our nation. That advice was dismissed.

The litany of abundant grievances held by those who see our leaders misapplying their authority is known. There is no excuse for advocating arguments that favor herd immunity. Or for those who claim that sparing our economy must come at the cost of failing to spare lives.

Such beliefs amount to careless disregard for the gift of life and the variety of talents that include our ability to discern and apply reason, information and facts. Given the options it is a mystery that anyone would choose to deny demonstrable truths that have been discovered and communicated.

Choosing to be in the midst of gatherings at the invitation of our leaders in this present day environment is akin to thousands of innocent people being fired upon by assault weapons made automatic by bump stocks. People who gather in celebration fueled by reckless behaviors in ill advised environments are not innocent but no less at risk.

The virus will keep firing long after therapies are discovered and applied for generations to come. People of faith are capable of forgiving those who do harm to us. The perpetrators of unnecessary and avoidable mass death have yet to repent or seek forgiveness. Instead they have doubled down and have remained complicit.

It is not the pandemic that has undermined our economy and way of life so much as attitudes and policies that undermine sound practices. History records that we make progress when we live in accordance with the knowledge and conscience of our better selves.

We are among few nations that have sufficient resources to reclaim the credibility, stability and continuity of a government founded on life affirming principles. Discovering and applying therapies to address the pandemic are underway. Eradicating epidemic idiot logic, willful negligence and exploitation is just as worthy of our attention.

Footnote: “I believe that sin is anything that separates us from God and each other. Covid is teaching us that a little separation can bring us together in the effort to save lives.”

“Prima Scriptura” and the Wesleyan Quadrilateral

by Hailey Lyons

Scripture – Prima Scriptura
Tradition – Teachings and History of the Church
Reason – Informed Interpretation of Scripture and Common Sense
Experience – Personal Interaction and Narrative

The Wesleyan Quadrilateral holds a special place in my heart. While I was still struggling to understand how to accept my identity, I came across it as a way of broadening theology beyond Sola Scriptura. The expression of the Quadrilateral I encountered emphasized Experience as a way of overcoming dominant scriptural interpretations where Reason and Tradition could not.

It is saddening to see that this expression doesn’t fully extend to our Methodist siblings. In a heated fight over the fate of LGBT members and clergy, the Wesleyan Quadrilateral has become the grounds on which the United Methodist Church divides. A stunted version of the Quadrilateral places outsized importance in Prima Scriptura and undervaluing Experience, denying our LGBT Methodist siblings the right of marriage and service in clergy.

I can’t emphasize enough just how heartbreaking such a fight is. The Quadrilateral has been the primary theological tool for training and teaching in the UMC for generations now, and it has wrought much good alongside the bad. Again, it was the theological bridge for me to accept my identity and move towards a more inclusive faith. It is by no means the ultimate model for theological study, but it was never intended to be. The fact that it has been taken to be so only further problematizes its use. Ridding the Quadrilateral of Experience isn’t the root problem, as dangerous as that’s proving to be.

The Quadrilateral’s hierarchy is the root problem.

Prima Scriptura is in principle not the same as Sola Scriptura. Prima Scriptura places scripture at the forefront of the Quadrilateral, while normally allowing Tradition, Reason, and Experience to be lenses of interpretation. Sola Scriptura deifies the Bible itself, placing it over and against interpretations Evangelical theologians and church leaders disagree with. Such a doctrine makes it easier to promote only one, authoritative interpretation of scripture and enforce inerrancy. Anyone utilizing the Wesleyan Quadrilateral would do well to understand the difference between the two and ensure neither they nor their ecclesial family cross into Sola Scriptura.

And yet Prima Scriptura already restricts the other elements of the Quadrilateral, influencing them into behaving circularly rather than collectively. When such occurs, in spite of being named a Quadrilateral, Outler’s theology reverts to the authoritarian Sola Scriptura. The checks and balances of the Quadrilateral become a mockery of theological study. We can strive as much as possible to create change within the system, but eventually we have to realize the problem is the system itself. Prima Scriptura has proven too tantalizing an opportunity for those who would do others harm.

What is the solution to the problem of Prima Scriptura? Many of our Methodist siblings have been better able to effectuate the checks and balances I mentioned earlier, keeping Experience in the Quadrilateral and coming to places of inclusion and progressiveness. But it still doesn’t solve the root problem, only postponing the discussion for another day.

There are two potential solutions: reform the Quadrilateral and make its elements coequal, or abolish it. Neither solution solves the divide in the UMC, but they offer hope for greater reform.

Reforming the Quadrilateral is a softer transition, but that doesn’t mean an easier one. It might create wider ground for discussion and disagreement, and might push congregations, conferences, and seminaries further towards inclusion. There is still much the Quadrilateral might offer in the way of orienting theology in a postmodern world, with an intersectional quality that allows for inward critiques. And yet, it would be irresponsible to ignore the tremendous difficulties Quadrilateral reformers have already faced in upholding Experience, much less creating a more equalized Quadrilateral. The results have been painful to say the least.

Abolishing the Quadrilateral cuts the conversation entirely in what may amount more to scorched earth than a clean break. It has the chance to fragment theological discourse from the academy down to local church bible studies and prayer meetings. But perhaps this raises the opportunity for new theologies to be written and implemented.

Any time Christian doctrine is reduced to so heavy an emphasis on scripture that it drowns out the collective experiences, traditions, and reasoning of individuals, it becomes a system of oppression and domination. This is made infinitely harder when the system upholds oppression and domination at its founding. Such an idea isn’t unique to Christianity, either.

Prima Scriptura must go, and with it the Quadrilateral.

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.

images credit: Robert Bisser

What Does It Mean to be Transgender in the UCC?

by Hailey Lyons

I never imagined I’d be here today. I mean that in the sense that I’m alive, and also a member of a local church. I certainly didn’t set out on my faith journey expecting to end up here, and I’m sure I won’t be able to predict where that journey takes me in the future, either.

My upbringing wasn’t particularly unique; there were thousands of Southern Baptist pastors’ kids running around America playing sports and teaching youth groups at the time, and I’m sure that’s still the case today. The brand of masculinity thrown at me by my parents was also pretty generic: “be tough and lead.” I got the tough part down by playing multiple sports and settling down on football by the time I got to high school. The leadership part wasn’t as obvious – I sincerely doubt I would’ve been allowed to preach Sunday sermons at our church as a child. And yet there I was, teaching youth classes and subbing in for the occasional adult group. When Dad moved to a different slide of his hour-long – if we were lucky – sermon I was the one to click to it in PowerPoint. When my older brother led us in worship, I made sure his guitar didn’t sound too pitchy and that his vocals were turned up.

I’d say I had a solid relationship with God: I had an active prayer life, did multiple run-throughs of the Bible a year, and regularly read through a bookshelf filled with works of apologists like Lee Strobel, Ken Ham, and Rick Warren. And yet I had the nagging feeling I was missing something.

And because I didn’t have the language, much less the understanding to express what was missing, I blamed my discomfort on sinfulness. I labeled myself as prideful and mysteriously afflicted by the struggle of theologically wrestling with God. Why not? This was the attitude taken by all the preachers I knew. It was easy to excuse a lack of certainty – or too much of it – on some kind of internal struggle with pride and trying to figure out God’s will.

As a college student, my eyes were opened to the myriad experiences of humanity all around me. Arizona State University’s Tempe campus is – outside of COVID-19 season – a vibrantly diverse world unto itself.

It wasn’t long before I found that a good portion of my friends were members of the LGBT community, some more open than others. Some more religious than others too, and that really bothered me. Why did my Calvinist, Evangelical faith demand I view everyone as totally and indelibly depraved and unable to do any good outside the direct divine intervention of God Almighty? Why was it that the doctrine of predestination meant God wasn’t going to let some people go to heaven?

Layers and layers peeled back slowly and painfully. It took 3 years of deep questioning, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, and listening to the experiences of people around me. As a college ministry leader and youth teacher, half of my life was devoted to being on the church campus and “doing life” with other members. We were all trying our best to “work through our own salvation,” and the theological methodology was irrevocably tainted with shame and suffering.

Knowing what the consequences would be – largely because I’d gotten to know leadership’s orientation toward the LGBT community firsthand – I left my home church. It hurt worse than anything I’d ever experienced, and I felt like I’d wasted those 3 years. I didn’t want to lose the friends I’d made, or the community I’d helped build, or that indescribable feeling I used to get, arriving late to service and hearing 200 voices lifted up in corporate worship.

But the fact is that I didn’t waste that time. And while I lost friends, community, and a particular liturgy, I found something that made it all worth it: myself.

When I walked through the doors at Desert Palm UCC in Tempe, Arizona, my first impression was absolute shock. My former church had made a point of approaching newcomers, but the sheer amount of open love that I felt from everyone was mind-blowing.

It also helped doing research prior to even driving into the parking lot. When one looks up open and affirming churches or, as I did, look through a network like Gay Church, there are a lot of options that pop up around Tempe. Most are denominationally affiliated, with a few outliers that either unequivocally support the LGBT community in their faith statement or keep it intentionally vague.

A few things struck me immediately after looking into the UCC:

A clearly labeled, congregational polity
Engaged in Social Justice initiatives since its foundation
A comprehensive, Open and Affirming message without loopholes

And yet, even knowing this didn’t prepare me for the warm welcome I received.

In the weeks that turned into months of attending Desert Palm, I found people who respect my pronouns without question. People who were genuinely curious about my faith journey without asking me to conform my theology to some incredibly narrow faith statement.

So, what does it mean to be transgender in the UCC?

It starts with a warm welcome.

Since coming to Desert Palm, I’ve had the privilege to work on our new college and young adult ministry aimed at bringing the UCC’s message of radical love and commitment to social justice to Arizona State University by engaging with students in a way that doesn’t demand conversion or attendance at weekly propaganda meetings disguised as bible studies. We’re here to engage a diverse community with extravagant welcome that enables today’s youth to explore their faith journeys without fear.

Being transgender in the UCC is a blessing of welcome and safety, and an opportunity to further a Just World for All.