February 2021 – Southwest Conference Blog

Love Letter From God

“And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:11)

Yesterday–Sunday, February 14, 2021–happened to be both Valentine’s Day and Transfiguration Sunday, both of which celebrate belovedness.

In honor of that, I am taking the liberty of sharing something I wrote in 2002, as I was leaving my position as the youth pastor of The United Church of Los Alamos, in order to stay home with my soon-to-be-born baby girl.

I had asked myself the question: “If the youth group hasn’t learned anything else in my time with them, what do I hope will stay with them?” This was the answer. I hoped something in it would speak to the kids then; perhaps something in it will also speak to you today.

Please enjoy this “Love Letter From God”…

To my Beloved Child…

That is, indeed, a good place to start—
by reminding you that you are my Beloved.

You are a beloved child of mine. You.

Do you know that?
Do you know how much I love you?
Do you really, really know, deep in your soul,
how much I, God, the Creator of the Universe,
love YOU?

And do you know that the reason I love you
is NOT that you are a good person?
Although you are.

Nor is it that you are a kind person.
Although you are that, too.

The reason I love you is not all the good you do
(and I know even better than you how much good
you have done, and how far-reaching its effects),
nor is it all the smiles you share,
nor all the times you’ve reached out
to help someone in need–
whether someone in your family, a friend,
or even a stranger.

No, it is not for any of those reasons that I love you….

Oh, beloved child of mine, I love you so much!
If only you knew how much….

And do you know, and truly believe, that I love you
even though I know your secrets?

I know the things that you’re afraid of….
I still love you.

I know the things that you’re ashamed of….
I love you anyway.

I know the things that you wish you’d never done….
I still love you.

I know the things that you wish you’d done differently….
I love you anyway.

I know your doubts…your judgments…your fears…your failures…
…and yet, I love you.

None of those things, nor anything else,
could ever keep me from loving you….

I love you, my dear child, because I created you.
I love you, precious one, because there is no one else like you….
No one else.

I love you, Beloved, simply because you exist–
because that is what Love does
and Love is who I am.

I love you, now and forever and always,
and there is nothing you can do to change that.

There is nothing you can do to make me love you any more,
and there is nothing you can do to make me love you any less.

I.love.you.

Deeply.
Totally.
Passionately.
Unconditionally.
Forever.

Please, my dear child, let me love you….

God”

Peace, deep in our souls, be with us all
as we claim ever-so-slightly more fully,
our belovedness.
Deb

Thank God I Don’t Have a Demon…

by Rev. Deb Worley

“That evening, at sunset, they brought to [Jesus] all who were sick or possessed with demons….And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons….” (Mark 1:32, 34)

When I read passages like this in the Bible, I’m immediately grateful that I don’t have a demon. There are stories where someone has a demon who throws that person into the fire, or onto the ground; there are stories where someone with a demon is mute and another howls and cuts himself. In all of these stories, Jesus casts out the demons and restores their former “hosts” to wholeness; but still–I read them and feel very grateful that I don’t need that kind of healing from Jesus.

I’m especially thankful that I don’t have a demon that throws me into the fire–because this is where I’ve been spending a LOT of time in recent weeks:

But…as I think about it…I realize that there is something within me that can pull me away from wholeness, and forcefully.

There is no demon within me that pushes me to the ground…but there is, sometimes, something within me that does try to push me down–telling me things like I’m not good enough, I’m not capable enough, I don’t know enough….

Similarly, there is no unclean spirit within me that causes me to be mute…but there is, sometimes, something within me that influences me to be silent when I should speak up, that keeps me from speaking what I know to be true when that truth feels too uncomfortable or painful or risky….

As for cutting myself, there is no evil spirit within me that has led me to do that…but I have, at times, listened to something within me that has allowed me to chose to harm myself in other ways–by not addressing unhealthy relationships, for example, or by not listening to my own voice among all those I listen to for wisdom and guidance.

I am more comfortable calling the “something within me” that puts me down, my “inner critic” instead of the voice of a demon, but it is similarly destructive. And while I’m more likely to think of those thoughts that try to silence me as coming from a place of fear and insecurity rather than an “unclean spirit,” couldn’t fear and insecurity be considered something similar?? And the variation on self-harm? Well, the voice within me that persuades me to not value myself appropriately could perhaps be considered an “evil spirit.”

Maybe I do have demons that need to be cast out by Jesus–demons within me that cause me to doubt my goodness and my capabilities, to doubt the truth that I know, to doubt my own wisdom and authority.

Maybe I do need Jesus to cast them out, so that there will be more space for a sense of my belovedness, and so that I can more fully trust God’s goodness and truth and wisdom within me.

Maybe I do need “that kind of healing” from Jesus….

Do you?

Heal us, Jesus!

Amen.

Visioning the Future

by Hailey Lyons

Every January I parse out what I want from the coming year. Sometimes this takes the form of a written list of goals; other times I sketch out ideas and possibilities that aren’t just for the coming year but beyond. When I entered high school, I had goals I wanted to accomplish spanning all four years. In undergrad I did the same, adjusting each year and checking back in with how far I’d come. These visions of the future, possibilities of what might be, delighted me as much as they terrified me.

Movements, organizations, and politics are dictated by competing visions of the possible future. Possibilities make us feel a part of something greater and better. Possibilities spur us to do great things even in the face of terrible odds. Possibilities lead us toward liberation, allowing us to breathe even as the oppressor grinds their boot on our necks. When we in the UCC envision a Just World for All, we ask what that actually looks like. We talk not just to each other, but to those we have nothing in common with. In the confluence, we dream up a just world for all with the necessary emphasis on all.

In my Evangelical tradition, the book of Revelation was a carefully pored over manual on Eschatology. Millennialism and its other forms became the battlegrounds for the time leading up to a new Heaven and Earth. Now, I understand the apocalyptic rhetoric of John during his exile on Patmos as a canonized microcosm of the apocalyptic tradition of the era. An era in which a vast empire ruled with an iron fist and a divine mandate. Visions of the end of that empire, visions of justice, and of accountability proliferated. And in their midst were revolutionary visions of future possibilities, symbolic and majestic, that incorporated justice and peace to form something beautiful. Thus, we read of lions laying down with lambs and of swords beaten into plowshares. A grand city and a world in which there are no more tears.

For two thousand years, Christianity has made its mark on the West and imperialized much of the known world. An empire that rules with the iron fist of capitalism and faux democracy with a presumed divine mandate. Coupled with a postmodern world in which the acceleration of history necessitates apocalyptic rhetoric, it is time we revisited John’s Revelation.

We must imagine an end, and then a new beginning for Christianity itself. Not with the small hope of merely subsisting, but with great and powerful visions of the future for our denomination and the Church Universal. What do you envision as a just world for all? What grand dreams – literal and symbolic – give you hope? Imagine the fruition of possibilities. But don’t stop there. Share your visions with others. Share your visions with those inside and outside your congregation. Write, talk, create art around them. Test them with the visions of others and find intersectional community. That is the way we find the future together. A Just World for All.

Pray Not with Swords in Hand: Reflecting on A Prayer by Violent Insurrectionists

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

Imagine the shock and disgust that rippled through mainline and progressive Christianity in this country after the New Yorker video from the January 6 insurrection showed a group of rioters standing around the Senate President’s chair in the Senate chamber pray, holding hands in the air praising God for their success at storming the Capital. One rioter who was interviewed after the event said he consulted God three times before coming, and each time “he didn’t hear a no.” Discerning types noticed that God also didn’t offer the man a “yes” either.

What can we say other than we denounce traitors and violent rioters who are overcome with a spirit of evil — a mob mentality — and that we do not believe this is something Jesus would ever sign off on? Jesus’ last words to his apostle Peter (and to future followers as well) was “put down your sword.”

We can’t say “they aren’t true Christians” because we know full well there is a strain of Christianity that is heavily nationalistic. And while we don’t interpret scripture the same way they do, we must acknowledge that they are part of what we call “the body of Christ.” We leave the judgment of who is and is not a Christian to a higher authority.

We can’t say “not all Christians” are like this. Even if it is true, it’s beside the point. Most people know there are a variety of strains of Christianity and not all strains condone violence. However, there are enough radical right activist Christians around to sully the reputation of all Christians. And our nationalist brothers and sisters manage to claim the media limelight more than we do.

What can nonviolent Christians say about a situation where a half-naked man wearing bull’s horns on his head calls on Almighty God for a blessing on his fellow rioters, some of whom were defecating in the halls of the Capital and smearing their waste on the walls? Until today, I’ve been at a complete loss for words. The faces of those around him praying and reaching to heaven confirmed how seriously these men felt that God was on their side. Cultic Christianity was on full display.

The responses to this deadly storming of the Capital have varied. Some Christians are holding prayer vigils. Some are doing a sort of biblical criticism denouncing this form of spiritual expression. Others are sticking their head in the sand — it’s just too horrible to think about. And still others are wondering how we can influence these nationalistic types and basically “convert” them to nonviolence.

My way, as a progressive, contemplative Christian spiritual director, is to simply grieve. To lament. If it were my style, I would cover myself with ashes and rent my clothing in distress. But it’s not my style. I grieve the loss of life; the way it will spread more Coronavirus; the fear it caused for so many of my elected leaders. I grieve how this event makes Christians look, and how this hardness and hatred will drive some people out of the church. I grieve what it all means for the future of our nation.

Like many others, I will watch, wait and pray for better days. And, however you respond to seeing rioters pray over Senate chambers, may it be a way that cultivates hope and deep peace in your life.

This post originally appeared on Patheos.