Southwest Conference Blog

On Being

Day 5 of the Crud. {Crud, a technical term for the bodily symptoms of sickness and how they make one feel, as in, “Ugh, I feel like crud!”}

I noticed it starting while having lunch with a co-worker, a feathery irritation in my throat that began to cause light coughing. I woke up the next morning dragging butt, and went in to make sure that a time sheet was turned in for the colleague whom I supervise and who was out herself with a nasty bug. As coughing increased and energy decreased, I went home half-way through the day, telling my supervisor I hoped to sleep it off and see her the next day. The next morning came, and now my head ached with congestion, so I called in sick and slept most of the day. That should move it on out. The next morning came, and my head still hurt and my throat was starting to hurt from coughing and my energy level was next to nil. I called in sick again and laid around all day. That should help, along with the Airborne I gulped throughout the day.

Lo and behold, on Saturday, I awoke feeling pretty darn good—energy level up, coughing subsided, headache gone. Putzed around on the computer, read some of a book, even did a bit of housecleaning. My hopes of going to church the next day dissipated as my nose started running like an open faucet and the hacking returned with a vengeance.

So today, I’m lounging on the patio (fresh air and sunshine and outdoors at least nourish my spirit) all day today, accompanied by tissues and throat lozenges and a bottomless water bottle. When I sit absolutely still or go to sleep, the cruddy symptoms quiet down. This will be a short blog, then.

This blog is getting written, though, with the realization that no matter how optimistic I go into a sickness, it will run its own course, whatever I try to shorten it. And no matter how irritated I feel that I can’t even get any work done because it takes too much energy to concentrate on anything, the sickness runs its own course. In other words, I can’t control it. So I may as well go with the flow (even if that flow is my runny nose). Today I get to lie outside on a clear, sunny day watching the birds. And it’s enough—it’s life today.

I also got to watch pieces of the air show at the Air Force base that became visible in my view of the sky. Jet fighters speeding in tight formations and loops and straight-ups (how’s that for a technical flight term?) and free-falls and screaming over my house. Speed and noise and doing. When they finished, a raven re-appeared, sleek black body glistening in the late afternoon sun, wings calmly outstretched, floating in circles on the air currents. Slowness and peace and being. Both sights were amazing. Sometimes we, in the life we lead, need the doing. The raven and the sickness remind us that simply being is our greatest gift to Life.

A–choo! Excuse me, I’ll blow my nose and go back to lying still.

The Mountaintop

by Amos Smith

The last Sunday before Lent is when Jesus is transfigured on the mountaintop (Luke 9:28-36). I think the reason for the placement of this reading is that to get through Lent we need to consistently remind ourselves of the peak experiences in our lives …

In 2013 I flew from Phoenix to Oakland, California with my family for my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. As I flew, I noticed a huge storm was brewing below. There were dark clouds, thunder, turbulence. Yet, the plane soared far above the clouds where it was absolutely clear. Where I sat it was totally calm.

In that moment I said to myself, “This is the mountaintop experience.” This is the experience above the clamor, uproar, turbulence, and monkey-mind, above the nee nee naa naa. “Nee nee naa naa” is the nature of our minds. When there’s some kind of crisis there are flurries of mental activity – flurries of analysis, confusion, speculation – we can’t keep still. Our anxious thoughts jump around like a monkey in a high canopy.

Then I remember that above the clouds it’s perfectly calm.

When Jesus experienced the mountaintop, he knew the deep calm of all-pervasive acceptance and thorough love that flowed from his Abba …

It’s easy to get wrapped up in the drama – to get caught up in the turbulence of the monkey-mind. But our higher self is on the mountaintop, in the plane above the tumult, in the upper room (Acts 1:13). Our higher self is above the frenzy.

As the spiritual journey progresses we spend more and more time on the mountaintop. We discover and re-discover the spiritual faculties of our minds where we’re at rest. Where we can let down and trust God. Where we can let go of reason’s double-binds and dead ends. Where we can experience peace.

Starting a New Church? Be Different.

by Ryan Gear

One of the biggest reasons many new churches fail:

Blending in.

When people ask you as a church planter what your new church is all about, here’s the wrong answer:

“Well, we wanna worship God authentically with contemporary music, let people dress how they want, care about social justice and make the Bible relevant to everyday life.”

The most visible churches in your town started doing that before the Spice Girls came out. A contemporary church was scandalous… then.

Because they were unique at the time, those churches are now much larger than yours. They worship God with contemporary music better than your church plant’s music. They have more experience preaching than you do, and they even let people dress how they want better than you do.

Now, all of the sudden they’ve started caring about social justice too (or at least making people think they do), so that’s not different anymore either.

They even pretend to be authentic.

In order to survive, your church has to have a reason for existing that makes it different from the other churches around you. This is differentiation.

It’s true that churches are not in competition with each other. There are far too many unreached people. At the same time, if unreached people decide to seek God in a church, they have to be able to see your church in order to show up.

Can they see your church?
How well does your church stick out in the church landscape of your city?
What makes your church different from the other churches that dominate the landscape?
What does your church offer your city that current churches don’t?
Most importantly, how does your church live out the mission of Jesus in a way that other churches don’t?

Here are 3 questions from a pastor named Adam Hamilton that sum it up nicely. If you’re going to start a new church, you have to be able to answer these 3 questions. If your answer to the last question doesn’t make your church stand out, your church plant won’t make it.

Why do people need Jesus?
Why do people need the Church (worldwide)?
Why do people need this church (the church you’re starting)?

Answer that third question in a way that blows people’s minds in your city… and then every other church will copy you.

I Love to Tell the Story: A Lenten Journey

by Amanda Peterson

One of the powerful aspects of the Lenten journey is it invites us into the story of our faith. We are invited into the story of Jesus and how that impacts us in this moment. We get to revisit and re-examine what that story means to us this year and how it has impacted us in the past.

Something wonderful happens when we gather to tell stories. We are often encouraged to stay in this moment, which is a wonderful practice. Yet, this has left me wondering what does this do to my relationship with the future and the past. How do I find balance in looking at the past and the future in order to bring me back to the Now?

This is where storytelling is very helpful. It is a lost art in our culture. The ability to sit around with friends and imagine the future you know is inside you. Say it out loud with feeling, vulnerability and support, even being wild and imaginative in the process. By looking ahead and asking, “what do I want to experience in the gift of life I have been given?”, it brings us back to the moment with new knowledge. How do I start living now that will make that future show up in me? What small steps can I take Now?

The challenge in future storytelling, and perhaps why people shy away from it, is that by speaking the future, one may enter into the “I wish that were Now” syndrome. The temptation to think life won’t start until that future is realized. That temptation makes Now look like not enough. And then the moment is gone. I notice as I work with people in life transitions that it’s easy to go to the hopeful future and want to dwell there. In doing this, this moment is totally ignored, especially if the moment does not hold the sparkle of the future.

Another challenge in future stories comes when they are about waking up possibility. Waking up the “I wonder” inside. That can be a scary thing to wake up because it can have a life of it’s own. One can no longer hide.

These challenges happen because it’s easy to lose the meaning of what storytelling is truly all about. Stories are told because they remind us that all of life is just one story after another. The real power is in the story unfolding right now.

Storytelling one’s past is a bit easier. In fact I tell a lot of past stories in my day, especially the horror stories. “I’ll never do that again; let me tell you why.” It is as though that past story is the end of the story. This happened – end of story. There is no moving on from here. Yet if I were really practiced at storytelling, I would quickly come to the reality that this is but one story among many and there are more to tell. This story doesn’t define me. It’s the story in this moment that matters. Looking back allows me to ask questions like, what was I doing five years ago? Did I ever imagine that all this would be happening now, or is life exactly the same? This brings me back to the Now with gratitude and trust that this moment truly is leading to the next.

I invite you to practice the art of storytelling in your Lenten walk. In engaging Jesus’ story, once again let it also reflect on your story. How did Jesus relate past, present, and future? Ask questions and share stories about your walk with God with others. Move beyond reading and discussing and ask, “how can these stories inform your Now moment?”

Look Back in Wonder

by Talitha Arnold

“For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust, O Lord, from my youth.” – Psalm 71:1-6

A few years ago, I did a solo hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, spent two nights at Phantom Ranch, and then trekked back to the top. It was the fourth time I’ve done the hike, the first being when I was in college, the last ten years before. Not surprisingly it took me a bit longer to get back up this time.

Hiking the Grand Canyon is hiking a mountain in reverse. The hard part comes when you’re already tired and the rim is a mile from the bottom as the crow flies, except you’re not a crow and the trail up is nine miles long.

I have to admit that there were a couple times on the way up that I thought to myself, “This is truly the dumbest thing you have ever done.” Of course I think that at mid-point in every major hike. But as before, the journey was worth it. When you hike the Grand Canyon, you’re walking through literally billions of years of time and almost every eco-system on the planet, down to the center of the earth and back.

When I made it up to the top, I sat on the rim for a long time. I wanted to give my calves a rest and also simply look back down on the trail I’d just hiked. I was filled with a sense of wonder at both the Canyon’s deep beauty and the fact I’d made it down and up once again, proving once again that God loves fools.

“For you, O Lord, are my hope,” writes today’s Psalmist. She or he looks back on their life and knows that God has been “my trust, O Lord, from my youth.”

With the wisdom of the Psalmist, the old Gospel song proclaims, “My soul looks back in wonder at how I got over.” It’s a good thing do every once in a while along the way, whether you’re sitting on the rim of the Grand Canyon or in your living room. Look back in wonder at your journey and the One who’s been with you every step of the way.

Prayer

Thank you, God, for walking with us and for the wonder of it all.

Amos’ Bread: The Journey of Lent

by Amos Smith

In Thomas Keating’s book, Intimacy with God, he relays this story: A brilliant French geneticist mixed the genes of two butterflies to create a new strand with more spectacular design and color than anyone had ever seen.

After much anticipation, the genetically engineered butterfly emerged from the cocoon. The lab technicians clapped and marveled. The press was notified and soon reporters and photographers loped into the lab. All eyes were on the butterfly as it skirmished with the cocoon. Soon the butterfly’s skirmish became an all-out spasmodic struggle for freedom. The butterfly gathered its energy then frantically fluttered and convulsed. Then it rested and tried again, losing energy each time.

After thirty-five minutes of this reporters became impatient, and two left the lab.

The drawn out struggle seemed futile. Something had to be done. “Surely just a little help to free the butterfly from the cocoon won’t do any harm” the geneticist thought. So, with his carefully poised scalpel he made two small incisions between the wings and the cocoon.

The butterfly was finally free.

Everyone cheered.

After two minutes the room hushed.

The butterfly attempted to fly to no avail.

The geneticist tried to assist its flight. He gently nudged it off the edge of a short table. It flopped to the ground.

Nothing.

People began to realize that the butterfly wasn’t going to fly. It was a dud. It didn’t accomplish what it was made for: flight.

The butterfly failed to fly because its struggle was cut short. Only a full six hours of death-defying struggle can prepare the newly formed body and wings for flight. Anything less won’t do.

I believe that through struggle and suffering God prepares us for transformation. This is what the journey of Lent is all about.

Spiritual, Religious, or Adventure?

by Teresa Blythe

Originally published on November 25, 2015 on Patheos
Re-printed with permission from the author

When a pilgrim begins the 800 kilometer trek along the legendary Camino de Santiago, they are asked to announce the purpose of their walk. Their choices are spiritual, religious or adventure. Which is a beautiful question to ask in spiritual direction since we are all on this pilgrimage called life.

What is the nature of your life’s path? Spiritual, religious or adventure?

I began sitting with that question after reading Sonia Choquette’s new memoir Walking Home about the healing she experienced walking the Camino de Santiago last year. Choquette is a well-known spiritual intuitive and teacher and author of many books on tapping into your intuition. She hit a low point in her life. Her marriage was falling apart; her brother died; and shortly after that her father died, too. The voice of one of her spirit guides clearly told her to walk the Camino (even though she barely had a clue what that involved.) Still, she heeded the voice, packed her bags and set out to walk the entire distance across northern Spain.

She named the purpose of her pilgrimage spiritual (P.61). Which is what I would call my own “camino” (Spanish for walk) in life. (Note: I haven’t walked the Camino de Santiago but the idea of doing it is growing on me!)

Spiritual Pilgrimage

The spiritual pilgrimage is about healing. One walks to be free of burdens, to forgive others and themselves, and to allow the silence and discipline of walking toward a goal to heal life’s hurts and draw you closer to the source of life.

People who see their life path as spiritual are seeking connection with a power greater than themselves. This spiritual seeking may involve a religious tradition, or it may not.

Religious Pilgrimage

For centuries, religious people have been walking pilgrimages in devotion to God. Some see the difficult walk as penance. Others do it because they believe it is what God is asking of them and they wish to be obedient. Muslims are instructed to travel to Mecca in pilgrimage at least once in their life provided they are healthy enough and can afford the trip.

People who see their life path as religious are seeking to show allegiance and devotion to God through adherence to a particular religious doctrine and participation in a particular set of religious practices. These practices are intensely spiritual but they grow out of a religious tradition.

The Adventure

Many people travel the Camino de Santiago for fun, companionship and excitement. Choquette shares stories of people running along the Camino, groups hauling a wagon full of gourmet food, people riding bikes or horses along the way. For most every pilgrim, the Camino is an adventure at times—you cross the Pyrenees, stop in villages along the way and meet people from all over the world. But people who choose to experience the Camino as an adventure are usually not placing an expectation that the walk will be offering them any spiritual or religious insights.

People who see their life path as adventure may also be simply not placing expectations on their path. I’ve worked with many people in spiritual direction who are content to see what life has to offer rather than hoping for miracles, healing or other spiritual experiences.

No Judgment

There is an attitude among pilgrims that everyone walks their own Camino. It doesn’t matter what your intention is—spiritual, religious or adventure. It will be whatever it needs to be. You may start out for spiritual purposes and end up having an adventure. Or spiritual folks may find themselves more appreciative of religion as they walk the steps that thousands of pilgrims over thousands of years have walked. Adventure seekers may be gifted with a spiritual insight. As the man who fitted Choquette for hiking boots emphasized, “It’s your camino.” (P.43)

Do it All

Ideally, our life’s journey is a combination of purposes. At some times in our life it may be religious, at other times spiritual and at others an adventure. Or maybe it’s all three at once. After reading Walking Home, I am using the lens of Choquette’s experience to see the whole of my life as a camino. Perhaps not as dramatic as an 800 kilometer walk across Spain, but satisfying in its own way.

Spiritual, religious or adventure? It’s worth pondering along the way.

(For more on the Camino, I highly recommend Sonia Choquette’s Walking Home. Shirley MacLaine also wrote The Camino about her experience; Paulo Coelho wroteThe Pilgrimage; and Martin Sheen created the film The Way. Others have written of their experiences in blogs and books as well. Enjoy!)

If you are interested in learning more about spiritual direction or entering spiritual direction with me, please contact me at teresa@teresablythe.net or visit teresablythe.net. Also visit my website for the Phoenix Center for Spiritual Direction.

Photo credit: amateur photography by michel / Foter.com / CC BY

Living Under the Threat of Violence

by Rev. Dr. William M. Lyons,
Designated Conference Minister, Southwest Conference UCC

Preached February 21, 2016 at Church of the Beatitudes, Phoenix, Arizona

Birds go to the most incredible extremes to ensure the lives of their chicks.

A Mistle Thrush had built her nest in the end of a rain gutter. “The nest was tucked away from the weather in the shade of the roof,” said amateur wildlife photographer Dennis Bright. With the rain, “It was only a matter of seconds before the [gutter] flooded, and water cascaded over the sides.”

Desperate to protect her young, the mother Mistle Thrush puffed herself up to twice her size and sat in the drainpipe to stop the tide of rain water swamping the nest. She was so occupied with her task that her mate was left to feed her and their young.

“She had to come up with a solution so she puffed herself up so she was twice the size of her mate and used her body as a cork to stop the water,” said Bright.”It was absolutely amazing.”

Hester Phillips, from the RSPB, said she had never seen such a situation. “We’ve heard of them nesting in some unusual sites before, namely on the top of traffic lights, but we’ve certainly not come across anything like this before.

“Birds can be amazingly hardy creatures,” said Phillips, “their endurance is incredible – especially when protecting their young.”

Jesus described himself as a hen gathering her brood under her wings. Jesus – source of belonging, bringer of love, creator of creator of community.

But his allusion to the blood-bathed image of a fox among the chickens is his description of a violent world’s response to his mission. Thus the friendly Pharisees’ warning for Jesus to flee in the face of Herod’s royal rage.

But Jesus would have none of it.

[Jesus seems to] shrugs his shoulders [and intensify his gaze] when he says, “You go tell that fox from me that I’m going right on doing what I’m doing, casting out demons and healing the sick, and I’ll still be doing the same tomorrow, and the next until I finish my work, by which time we’ll be in Jerusalem.”

No fleeing. No hiding. No being intimidated. No pursuit of his own privilege thus pretending it’s not happening.

Jesus’ vision and mission remains resolute in the threat of escalating violence. Casting out demons: the vision of a world freed from the powers of oppression and exploitation. Healing the sick: restoring to wholeness ones whose bodies were broken, whose souls were scarred, whose place in their community was confiscated. “Jesus is going to do what he’s come to do, and he’s not going to be bullied [or scarred] out of it, no matter how big and [how] real the threat.”

With all the flare of LaWanda Page’s portrayal of Aunt Esther on TV’s sitcom Sanford & Son, Jesus says to the henchmen of hate:

“Besides, it’s not proper for a prophet to come to a bad end outside Jerusalem.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killer of prophets,
abuser of the messengers of God!
How often I’ve longed to gather your children,
gather your children like a hen,
Her brood safe under her wings—
but you refused and turned away!
And now it’s too late: You won’t see me again
until the day you say,
‘Blessed is she
who comes in
the name of God.’ ”

As the Keresan Pueblo story goes, Qi-yo Ke-pe was the most powerful medicine person in the world. She lived far to the west. When the daughter of the chief in the village of Kush Kut-ret fell ill, none of the medicine men could heal her. So the chief sent his bravest warrior to bring Qi-yo Ke-pe to his daughter’s bedside. When she arrived she asked for water and bathed the girl. The medicine men laughed. “If all our songs and incantations didn’t work, ordinary water could not possibly have any effect,” they said. But after four days of this bathing ritual, the girl was restored to health and beauty as if she had never been ill. The grateful chief commissioned his bravest warrior to escort the powerful Qi-yo Ke-pe back to her home, but the jealous medicine men followed them at a distance. After the brave warrior had departed her company, the medicine men came to Qi-yo Ke-pe’s home. She invited them in and offered them a meal and rest. They refused. “We have come to kill you,” they said to Qi-yo Ke-pe. “In four days we will return. Then you and your family will die.” Four days later the medicine men returned and were as good as their word. From then on there was grief. Many times when people fell ill there was no one on earth to heal them. Qi-yo Ke-pe was gone. The medicine men had killed her.

Luke is clear that Jesus knew he, too, would fall victim to the violence. Not by Herod’s hand, but Jesus would indeed die. For not everyone is able to understand and accept Jesus’ offer of liberation and healing. And with his killing came consequences of his killers’ own choosing.

Still, Jesus expresses a commitment to his vision and mission with all of the conviction and groundedness of the Poet who penned Psalm 27:

Your light leads me to safety, LORD;
I’ve got nothing to fear.
You shelter me like a fortress, LORD;
I’m afraid of no one!

Vicious thugs can close in like sharks,
ready to eat me alive;
but savage violence is no match for you;
they’ll fall flat on their faces.

They could give my name to a death squad
and I’d still be at peace;
their armies could lay siege to my house,
but I’d still feel safe with you.

Only one thing I ask of you, LORD,
the one thing that really matters:
let me live out the whole of my life
right here in your presence;
let me lose myself in your beauty,
and abandon myself to prayer.

Let me hide here in safety with you,
when trouble gets too much;
You are as secure as a bomb shelter,
a protected place to rest and recover.

You have lifted me beyond the reach
of those who wanted to tear me down,
so I am here to express my thanks,
to offer you whatever I can give;
to sing your praises till I raise the roof,
to put on a concert in your honour.

Don’t ever stop being generous, LORD;
hear me and answer me when I call for help!

My heart tells me to search for you.
Please don’t stay hidden from me.
My desire is to know you, face to face.

Don’t slam the door on me in anger;
Help me again and I’ll go on serving you.
Don’t give up on me now,
don’t turn your back on me;
You alone can save me, God!

Even if my own parents kicked me out,
you’d still be there for me, LORD.

Give me clear directions, LORD;
keep me on the right track
so I don’t stumble into the path of my enemies.

Don’t let them get their claws into me.
With every breath they fill the air
with false allegations and violent threats.

I know I can rely on you, LORD,
I’ll see your goodness win out
and live to tell about it.

I wait patiently for you, LORD;
I’ll hang in there and keep my chin up;
I’ll sit tight, and trust in you!

Beloved, the world is still a violent place. Before preaching this sermon I woke to the news that a gunman had committed a string of random murders in Kalamazoo, Michigan leaving 7 dead including an 8-year old and a 14-year old.

One need not live in ISIS controlled territories to experience religious violence. One need only to have been on the campus of Independence High School last Monday. After the tragic murder/suicide of 15 year-olds May Kieu and Dorothy Dutiel, Christian extremists spewed homophobic hate over megaphones at grieving students returning to classes. One need only to be a woman reading the Bible and realizing that “there are only 93 women who speak in the Bible, 49 of whom are named. These women speak a total of 14,056 words collectively — roughly 1.1 percent of the Bible. Mary, the mother of Jesus, speaks 191 words; Mary Magdalene gets 61; Sarah, 141 (Freeman, Bible Women: All Their Words and Why They Matter).7

“Communities of love and belonging are beautiful yet rare; necessary, yet elusive; desired, yet seem always met with stipulations. You know what I mean, right? Communities of love and belonging are those places and spaces of gathered folks that give you life, that nourish your soul, that remind you of who you truly are. Because there is no love and belonging when there is no regard and respect. There is no love and belonging when you are overlooked and dismissed. There is no love and belonging when you are told you don’t measure up, don’t meet expectations, or that you are not enough.”

How do we as Christians live in such a violent world?

We live as Jesus in the world! You and I, us together, we are the Body of Christ, the living Jesus in the world.

There are ones around us who point to the Church’s shrinking influence, who cite our words and our actions as too political, who call for us to run away, to hide under cover of private religion or in the safety of siloed spirituality and thus escape the wrath of powerful and powerfully offended ones. Let us have none of that! We are Jesus in the world!!

This world – this violent world – needs a Jesus – a living body of Christ on the earth – who risks our very lives to gather under God’s outstretched wings vulnerable ones, poor ones, rejected ones, and lonely ones, hungry and thirsty ones, threatened ones, blamed ones, guilty ones, and ones with no other place to belong.

Will you be that Jesus? The Jesus – the Body of Christ in the world – unwaveringly committed to liberating oppressed and exploited ones by risking the tasks of healing broken ones. And doing so from such a place of deep peace built on the bedrock of justice that you cannot help but share a song with her brood as they gather in safety and community:

Under His Wing

Under your wings I am safely abiding;
Though the night deepens and violence is wild,
Still I can trust you,
I know you will keep me;
You have redeemed me,
and I am your child.

Under your wings, under your wings,
Who from your love can sever?
Under your wings my soul shall abide,
Safely abide forever.

A Candle Gone Out and Our Time to Shine

by Kenneth McIntosh

I awake this morning feeling sad. Not because of a dream that I had, or worries about the day; nor because of anything that I am cognitively aware of. My subconscious mind has an amazing awareness of the date—February the 23^rd.

Grieve it tells me.

This is the anniversary of my father’s death.

Recognizing this day’s significance, the latest episode of Downton Abbey comes to mind. To non-fans, Downton Abbey is an Edwardian soap opera; but to devotees, the Crawley family and their servants are like family. Last Sunday lady Mary Crawley viciously betrayed her sister Edith by gossiping to Edith’s suitor and thus ruining Edith’s hopes for marriage. Later in the same show, Mary is about to be wedded and Edith shows up unexpectedly for the celebration. Explaining this seemingly impossible act of forgiveness, Edith tells Mary “In the end, you’re my sister, and one day, only we will remember Sybil (their deceased sister) Or Mama or Papa … Or Granny or Carson or any of the others who have peopled our youth. Until at last, our shared memories will mean more than our mutual dislike.”

Shared memories of our loved ones are immensely valuable for surviving family members. The generation of my parents’ friends has entirely passed away, and my children barely knew them. So my surviving extended family and our older children are now the only people who can talk about my father and mother with vivid recollections.

There’s a passage in the Old Testament that is probably no one’s favorite Bible verse: “There is no eternal memory of the wise any more than the foolish, because everyone is forgotten before long” (Ecclesiastes 2:16, CEB). It’s hardly inspiring, but profoundly true. To those of us who knew him, my father was extraordinary; a scientist and a polymath, he helped Heparin—an essential medicine—to become more easily available. He built his own sailboat, and radio, and camera, and airplane. And yet, less than a decade after his death, only a handful of people think or talk about him. Ecclesiastes nailed it, everyone is forgotten before long.

This thinking at first appears only negative, but its truth can be redeemed. Skylight publishes a great little book by Rabbi Rami Shapiro titled Ecclesiastes: Annotated & Explained. In this book, Rabbi Shapiro discusses the Hebrew word yitron, “usually translated as ‘profit’ in the sense of something being left over after all is said and done.” He then shares this illustration, “what profit, in the sense of something left over, is there in burning a candle in the dark? None if we expect that something of value remains when the candle burns down and the flame sputters out. But this doesn’t mean there was no value when the candle was aflame. While nothing has permanent profit, many things can profit us in the moment.”

We immediately recognize the truth of this as regards literal candles; we ignite tea-lite or votive candles which provide a lovely sense of atmosphere and we never think “this is a lousy candle, because it will only burn for a finite amount of time.” No, we appreciate the candle while it is lit. The worth of a candle is not in its durability, but in its ability to illumine while lit.

Is the same not true of our lives, and the lives of our loved ones? As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. reminds us “It is not how long you live, but how well you do it.” Even if I created an immense marble edifice for my father’s ashes, that structure would decay over time and its meaning would be forgotten. My father’s memories will vaporize after my generation of the family passes—but that’s not a tragedy. It’s the only way this world exists; unless your name is Elvis, everyone is forgotten before long. What does ‘profit’ us is to live fully whilst alive, to be recklessly engaged in this moment’s enactment of God’s justice and peace. A good candle glows while lit, and if the tapers of our lives are healthy we will strive to be illumined and to illuminate.

Problems come when we become focused on longevity, on out-lasting our time to burn. We can expend crazy amounts of effort trying to memorialize the dead and even crazier energies attempting to gain some sort of personal immortality. Yet these misguided efforts detract from our burning brightly in the now.

Churches face the same exact problem, the temptation to focus on longevity rather than illumination. I serve as Church Growth Coordinator for the Southwest Conference, and when congregations contact me they are usually wishing to talk about survival. Conversations boil down to “How do we make our church last longer?” The more valuable question for churches is: How much light can we shine in the now? Without too much thought of the morrow, churches need to ask: whose lives can we bless and transform as who we are, where we are, in the present moment?

Ironically, churches that put their energies into blessing others in the present moment tend to be more attractive churches—and the paradoxical result of shining brighter in the now is a possible renewal of the church, an unexpected second life. Could the same thing, perhaps, be said for individual souls? The book that follows Ecclesiastes in canonical order, The Song of Songs, tells us “love is as strong as death…Its darts are…divine flame!” (Song of Songs 8:6, CEB). That great Christian novelist and apologist C.S. Lewis, in his novel The Great Divorce, puts these words into the sainted mouth of his mentor George McDonald, “Every natural love will rise again and live forever in this country (heaven) but none will rise again until it has been buried.” My father spoke little of spiritual matters, but he did once tell me, late in his life, that he expected to continue existing after death on another dimensional plane, and that he expected to be re-united with his wife, who would be on the same dimensional apogee.

So today I remember my father’s candle, after it has gone out. I reaffirm my intention to burn brightly in my time. And if the things that our Scriptures and traditions point to are true, then the love we light now may blaze on into an unforeseeable eternity.

Happy (early) Earth Day 2016

by Donald Fausel

Just a reminder that Earth Day for 2016 will be celebrated during the week of April 17 to April 22. Many of us can remember April 22, 1970 when the first Earth Day was celebrated. It was the brainchild of Senator Gaylord Nelson of Wisconsin, and was inspired by the antiwar protests of the late 1960s. Earth Day was originally aimed at creating a mass environmental movement. It began as a “national teach-in on the environment” and was held on April 22 to maximize the number of students that could be reached on university campuses. By raising public awareness of air and water pollution, Nelson hoped to bring environmental causes into the attention of the legislators. The first Earth Day had close to 20 million participating. Future Earth Day celebrations were global.

If you want to bring some nostalgia into your life, here’s a five minute video narrated by Tom Brokaw titled A Quick History of Earth Day and an Interview by Hugh Downs with Senator Gaylord Nelson and Several other Activists .

When I look back at 1970, I wish I could say that I was one of the activists who followed Senator Nelson’s foresight. As far as the environment was concerned I was more focused in learning about the sciences of ecology and cosmology as a way of thinking about the world. I spent time reading books and articles by Thomas Berry, Brian Swimme and other ecologists. Two books that I still pick up frequently which you might be interested in are: Living by Surprise: A Christian Response to the Ecological Crisis by Rev. Woody Bartlett who has served as a director of community ministries for the Episcopal Diocese in Atlanta, with an emphasis on poverty and environmental issues. As the book’s cover reads “This book lays out four Dynamics of creation that can help humankind reconnect with its origins.”

The second book edited by Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee, Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth, is a collection of 20 essays. The book was given a strong review by Bill McKibben, founder of 350.org. He wrote, “It’s hard to imagine a wiser group of humans than the authors represented here, all of them both thinkers and do-ers in the greatest battle humans have ever faced.” If you go on Vaughan-Lee’s website you can see his article on Pope Francis’ Encylical: Hearing the Cry of the Earth . It was originally first published on Huffpost Religion.

To steal Bill McKibben’s phrase above, at that time in my life as far as the environment was concerned, I was more of a thinker than a do-er. My interests were more academic than insurgent. My activism was focused more on Welfare Rights, Civil Rights, Mobilization for Youth, the Vietnam War, and other social justice issues. Besides making a modest donation to the Sierra Club or The Friends Committee on National Legislation, I didn’t get involved personally in the environmental movement until I became a resident at the Beatitudes Campus in Phoenix.

Three years ago, another resident, Gerald Roseberry and I co-founded the Elders for a Sustainable Future. Our mission is: a solution-based effort to: 1) involve elders as stakeholders for future generations, and Mother Earth; 2) take action through education and advocacy; 3) contribute to reducing global climate warming, and supporting sustainable solutions. We meet twice a month to discuss climate change issues from fracking to divesting from fossil fuels and depositing our money in “Green investments”.

We also participate in rallies at legislators’ offices to challenge their positions on environment issues or at the Arizona Corporation Commission when Arizona Public Service (APS) was trying to raise prices on customers who were already using solar energy. At that rally we carried signs that read, “The Lord Giveth and APS Taketh away.” That was our way of letting them know that they didn’t have the ownership of the sun.

Many of the members of the Elders for a Sustainable Future are on a committee of residents that is planning for the 2016 Earth Day at the Beatitudes Campus. I’d like to share with you some of the material that we’re considering might be helpful for your celebration of Earth Day.

This first reference, God’s Earth is Sacred: An Open Letter to Church and Society in the United States was an effort in 2005 by a group of American theologians, convened by the National Council of Churches USA to negate what they called a “false gospel”. They called on Christians to confront the seriousness of environmental disgrace and take concrete steps to prevent abuse of Mother Earth. The letter lists a series of norms to guide Christian involvement, including “…justice, sustainability, generosity, frugality, solidarity and compassion.” The letter to Church and Society ends with a Call to Action, for “…healing the earth and providing a just and sustainable society.” They end with a prayer, “In Christ’s name and for Christ’s glory, we call out with broken yet hopeful hearts: join us in restoring God’s Earth-the greatest healing work an moral assignment of our times.” I say Amen to that! Although the letter was published eleven years ago, I believe its message still needs to be heard and followed today.

Thoughts and Actions for Earth Day 2016

Here’s a three minute speech on Earth Day, 2015, Every Day is Earth Day by Rev. Sally Bingham, President and Founder of Interfaith Power and Light followed by two minutes of videos of what climate changes is doing to God’s Earth.

How about a toe-tapping Love Song to the Earth by Paul McCartney, Jon Bon Jovi, Sheryl Crow and More Call for Action on Climate Change.

Your children or grandchildren might like this four minute cartoon type song, I AM the EARTH , and so do I.

I’ve saved this for last! 12 TED TALKS to Watch this Earth Day. That’s right 12 TED TALKS for Earth Day! And they have some heavy hitters doing the talking and they don’t talk more than 27:44 minutes or less.

James Hansen’s topic is Why I Must Speak Out about Climate Change. As far back as 1988 he “…saw it as his moral imperative to speak out about the rapid changing plane he saw in his work.” I read his book, Storms of My Grandchildren: The Truth about the Coming Climate Catastrophe and Our Last Chance to Save Humanity back in 2010 when it was first published. Robert Kennedy Jr. called him, “…the Paul Revere to the tyranny of climate chaos-a modern-day hero who has braved criticism and censure and put his career and fortune at stake to issue the call to arms against the apocalyptic forces of ignorance and greed.” I second Kennedy’s accurate description of James Hansen.

Coincidently, I will hear Hansen’s lecture on February 25 at Arizona State University’s Julie Ann Wrigley Global Institute of Sustainability. His topic is, “Climate Change and Energy: How Can Justice Be Achieved for Young People and Nature?”

Last but not least is a TED TALK by Al Gore, titled New Thinking on the Climate Crisis . You remember Al Gore, he was the former vice president who wrote and starred in the environmental documentary An Inconvenient Truth. He opens the documentary by greeting the audience by saying, “I am Al Gore; I used to be the next President of the United States.” In this TED TALK presentation he shows “…that the impact of climate change may be even worse than scientists had predicted.”

I hope you can use some of this information in your celebration of Earth Day 2016. Shalom.