“Put a muzzle on it!”

Rev. Talitha Arnold, United Church of Santa Fe

As a pastor, I probably shouldn’t confess this, but I have a hard time with some of the stories the Bible tells about Jesus. His zapping a fig tree for not bearing fruit (when it wasn’t the season for figs) is one. (Mark 11:12-25) His chastising Martha for being busy in the kitchen is another. (Luke 10:38-42) How else was dinner going to get fixed?

These days—eleven months into the pandemic, economic upheaval, and virtual church—the story of Jesus calming the storm (Mark 4:35-41) is at the top of the list. According to Mark’s Gospel, one night Jesus decides he wants to get to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. Peter and the other fishermen-turned-disciples humor him and set sail. Before they reach shore, they get caught in a storm that threatens to swamp the boat and dump all of them into the drink.

But in the midst of the howling wind and crashing waves, Jesus calmly rebukes the storm. “Peace, be still,” he says, according to the King James Version. J.B. Phillips translates Jesus’ words as “hush now” and the Wycliffe Bible as “Wax dumb.” The Message translates Jesus’ command as “settle down,” as if Jesus were talking to an errant child, and not a raging storm that’s about to drown them all.

Given the myriad of storms that swirl around us—from the pandemic to economic upheaval to “alternate facts” to conspiracy plots—I need a Jesus who does more than say “hush now” or “settle down” to the howling winds. Speaking personally, on a day in which my computer was hacked, my dog figured out how to unlatch the back gate to get out, and a backlog of work swamps my desk, I need a Jesus who stands up to the chaos and pushes back at the waves of disruption, be they global or part of daily life.

Believe it or not, that’s the Jesus in this story. In the Gospel’s original Greek, he snarls at the screeching wind and crashing waves: “Put a muzzle on it!” That’s the literal translation of how this story was first told. It’s a far cry from the gentle, long-suffering Jesus of some later translations.

I find Jesus’ snarl to the wind and waves comforting. When the storms of life rage around us and within us, it’s good to remember that Jesus didn’t stay safe on the shore but was in the boat with Peter and the others that night—and is with us as well. When like those fishermen, we’re caught in storms we’re not sure we can weather, I’m glad for the One whose power can silence even the loudest clamor. When we can’t calm our own waves of doubt or quiet the inner howls of despair, I’m thankful for the One who can put a muzzle on it all.

Most of all, I’m thankful for the One whose voice we can still hear through such an ancient story that still offers new life. Perhaps you are, too.a

Blessings,
Talitha

P.S. Nizhoni came back 🙂

Global Ministries Partners Making Huge Impact for Migrant Communities

by Randy J. Mayer, The Good Shepherd UCC

In the last five or ten years, the world has stepped into a sweeping global immigration epidemic where one in every seven people are being pushed by war, violence, climate change, or poverty out of their home countries and pulled into countries that are often resisting their arrival. In many ways, it is an exodus of biblical proportion from the global south to the north. The UCC and Disciples adopted parallel resolutions at General Synod and General Assembly this summer on the state of Global Forced Migration, which can be found by clicking these links:

UCC link
Disciples link

The United States started to experience the impact of this exodus as early as 1993 even before the NAFTA free trade agreement was signed. For more than 25 years there has been a steady flow of migrants, refugees and asylum seekers traveling through the Sonoran Desert. In 2000 the Good Shepherd UCC in Sahuarita, Arizona had no choice but to get involved in the humanitarian movement. What else can a faith community do when desperate people are knocking at your door asking for water and help? What else can a faith community do when dead bodies are found in your neighborhood in alarming numbers? You start asking questions, developing programs to help the people knocking at your doors, you start going up the river to see why so many dead bodies are appearing in your neighborhood. Never would we have dreamed that 20 years later we would still have knocks on our doors and dead bodies in our neighborhoods.

Being on the front-lines of the immigration struggle along the US/Mexico border has created natural connections with our global partners around the world that are now finding themselves in the midst of the flow of immigration into their communities. Recently, my wife Norma and I were able to visit our denominational partners in Italy and Greece and observe first hand their faithful hospitality to the stranger.

Our relationship with the Waldensian Church in Italy began six years ago when we received a call from Global Ministries requesting that we host a group coming from Italy that was just beginning to get involved in the growing immigration situation in the Mediterranean Sea. We hosted them and began to make a powerful connection that the call to care for the stranger was the same in the Mediterranean Sea as the Sonoran Desert. Now, years later we have had multiple visits and exchanges. Gaining perspective from another part of the world has given us both a different angle to glimpse the struggle and gain valuable insight on how to do faithful ministry, as the global politics moves toward building walls and abandoning the principles of inclusion and welcome of the stranger. Today the Waldensian Church is a leading voice in Europe as they put their faith on the line to finance and work on the rescue boats named, “Sea Watch” and “Open Arms.” They are performing dramatic rescues of desperate people, abandoned by their smugglers in the Mediterranean Sea. They also have developed a project called, “humanitarian corridors” that is an agreement with their government that allows the church to legally and safely bring a set number of asylum seekers into Italy each year and resettle them in their communities. While we were attending the Waldensian Synod in Torre Pellice the Italian Prime Minister Giuseppe Conte in a speech to the Italian Lower House, called for concrete initiatives “such as the setting up of European humanitarian corridors” to enable the European Union to “leave behind emergency management” of the migration crisis. A powerful example of how people of faith can inject themselves into the political discourse and human tragedy to create healthy models that address the immigration struggle.

From Italy we traveled to Katerini, Greece to visit the Evangelical Church of Greece, an historic church with a long tradition of putting justice into action. We spent five days with them learning about their incredible immigration and refugee program called Perichoresis. It began in 2015 as a simple act of Christian hospitality as they responded to the arrival of thousands upon thousands of Middle Eastern refugees to camps near the border of Greece and the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia. They went to the camps to offer support and supplies, which led to welcoming the asylum seekers into their homes, which led to the development of large scale programs to receive and care for the asylum seekers. Today, Perichoresis has fifty staff members giving medical care, legal and psychological support, and housing managers that have created living facilities that are safe and stable. Perichoresis now rents 126 apartments to temporarily house 600 vulnerable asylum seekers escaping the horrors of war and exploitation. They have rented an additional 10 apartments to integrate and permanently settle families in their community. Their resettlement and integration program is so well established that the United Nations Human Rights Council Union has lifted up the work of Perichoresis as the premier resettlement program that should be implemented throughout Europe to successfully settle and integrate asylum seekers and migrants into Europe.

Small bands of believers making a huge difference and showing the rest of us how to be faithful and welcome the stranger. Small protestant churches sprinkled like leaven and salt, barely visible to the dominant church and culture in their countries, but they are doing big things in the eyes of God and the building of the Kin-dom on earth as it is in heaven. Thank God for our UCC and Disciples global partners, may they continue to inspire and lead us in the ways of faithful living.

It’s the Fear of New Life

by Talitha Arnold

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear (of the Jews), Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.'” – John 20:19

According to John, it was fear “of the Jews” that made the disciples huddle behind locked doors.  Not only have such statements spawned Christian anti-Semitism for centuries, but I think John got it wrong as to the root cause of their fear.  They weren’t just afraid of the “other” (aka “the Jews”) nor even of death. I think they feared new life.  I know I do sometimes. Perhaps you do, too.

The truth is, such fear resonates through the Resurrection stories. The women ran from the tomb in fear. The guards trembled with fear, “like dead men.” When the disciples saw the Risen Christ by the Sea of Tiberias, they were afraid to ask who he was because, John states, “they knew it was the Lord.”  If that were true, their lives would never be the same. Now there’s a scary thought.

So perhaps they locked the doors out of fear of the religious leaders or the Romans or anyone else they were afraid would do them harm. But perhaps they also shut the doors because they were afraid of him, the Resurrected One, the one who promised them new life. Because if he lived, they would have to live, too.  Really live.

No wonder they bolted the doors. Of course, if he were strong enough to break the bonds of death, he could make it through their doors—and their fears. He probably could make it through ours as well.

Prayer

Risen Christ, break through our defenses and our doors. Give us the courage to be open to your new life.