Month: April 2021

He makes me lie down

by Rev. Deb Worley

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures….”

(Psalm 23:1-2)

“He makes me lie down…”

I have been struck by that phrase for years. In fact, I looked back last night at something I wrote in April 2017 about it, and it felt surprisingly relevant to our current COVID experience….

I’d like to share that reflection here. Here goes:

The 23rd psalm–such a familiar and beloved psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want….”

Unlike many other familiar Biblical passages, it is, perhaps, a passage that remains most familiar to many people in the language of the King James Bible:

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,

For thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me….”

Even the rhythm of the words seems to bring comfort, in addition to the assurance that the words themselves convey! It’s a psalm of trust, a song of comfort, a declaration of quiet confidence in the power, the compassion, the benevolence, and the Goodness of God.

There’s one verse in particular, however, that is speaking to me as I read this psalm today. One part of one verse, in fact, that is calling me to deeper reflection:

“He makes me lie down in green pastures….” (Ps. 23:2a, NRSV)

“He makes me lie down in green pastures….”  What’s not to like? Lush, green pastures, with pillowy tufts of grass inviting me to lie down and rest. Lush, green pastures, ready and waiting for me to pause, sink down into them, and be rejuvenated.

Of course, God would want, would invite, me to lie down in such a place if God’s purpose was that my soul might be restored (cf. vs 2b)!

Would my soul be restored by, say, lying down in a barren, parched desert?  I don’t think so….

Would my soul be restored by resting in a crowded, noisy shopping mall?  Not so much….

Would my soul be restored if I tried to unwind in a foreign place where I don’t speak the language or understand the culture?  Not likely.

So God, in God’s infinite wisdom, would understandably invite me to stop, to rest, to lie down in a peaceful place, a comfortable place, a place of obvious restoration. God would invite me to lie down in green pastures….

But wait–that’s not actually what the psalm says–God doesn’t invite me to lie down in green pastures, as it turns out. The psalm says that God makes me lie down in green pastures….

Hmm….Why would I resist resting in a peaceful, comfortable, restorative place? Why would I have to be made to lie down in green pastures??

Today [mind you, this was April 30, 2017!], I find myself considering the idea of being made to lie down, of being forced to rest, of having no choice but to accept a period of inactivity and stillness–all of which seem to imply some sort of resistance, some degree of reluctance, some level of unwillingness on the part of, well, me….

Where might that resistance to “lie down” come from? Does it come from me not wanting to stop doing what I’m doing? Does it come because I’m afraid I won’t know who I am or what my purpose is if I stop doing what I’m doing?

Where might that reluctance to rest come from? Does it come from me being comfortable where I am? Does it come because the place where I’m being made to “lie down” seems somehow uncomfortable? 

Where might that unwillingness to be still come from? Does it come from a feeling that it’s not okay to not be active? Does it come from an impression that it’s a sign of laziness and/or selfishness, or something similarly unacceptable, to not be busy, or productive, or useful, all the time? 

Why would I resist resting in a peaceful, comfortable, restorative place?

Why would I have to be made to lie down in green pastures??

Maybe, from my perspective, the place where God wants me to “lie down,” to be still, doesn’t look like green pastures at all, but more like an empty, parched desert–lonely…uncomfortable…too quiet…devoid of water and life… Or maybe, from where I stand, my assigned place of inactivity appears more like a shopping mall–noisy…crowded…overflowing with too much stimulation…. Or maybe, the place that God knows will be “green pastures” for me feels for all the world like a foreign land–a place totally unknown, with practices I’m not familiar with and a language I don’t understand….

Perhaps it feels like God is forcing stillness and inactivity on me, that God is making me lie down, in a place that does not seem peaceful, that does not feel comfortable, that does not fit any notion I’ve ever had or could even ever imagine as being the least bit restorative to my burdened soul….

Yet here I am, being made to lie down in green pastures, so that my soul might be restored….

“Clearly, God, You don’t know what You are doing, if You think this— 

[desert/shopping mall/foreign land…health crisis/job loss/loved one’s death…

whatever it is that forces us, reluctantly, into a period of inactivity and stillness…]

–is a green pasture!”


…or could it be that we don’t know what God is doing??…and that “this” is, in fact, in spite of what it may look and feel like to us, a place of green pastures, meant for the restoration of our souls??….

Amen.

And peace be with us all.
Deb

Reflections on Orientation-Disorientation-Reorientation (from an Exempt Minister)

by Rev. Jim Fredette

In his sermon Sunday on April 11th, Pastor Adam Hamilton noted that Walter Brueggemann once wrote that Israel had three circular phases in its life: Orientation, Disorientation, and Reorientation. As I listened to the sermon it struck me how closely the same pattern has been in my life.

Throughout my ministry in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Syracuse, NY., El Paso, TX, Escondido, CA., and Sun City I experienced all three phases. For the most part “Orientation” was my foremost and fulfilling experience. Doing a new church start at Desert View in El Paso was a wild ride between all three phases. My other congregations were far easier and very fulfilling.

When I retired from United Church in Sun City, I wanted to do the “right thing” in ministry. I asked John Dorhauer to lead a service of release of my call to United Church. Nancy and I did not attend or barely drive by the property for more than two years. I was asked by the search committee to meet with Brady, and I assured him of my support and I hope I didn’t do anything that wasn’t supportive.

Nancy and I enjoyed worshiping at the First Congregational Church in Phoenix. We thoroughly enjoyed Steve Wayle’s ministry and the church’s involvement in the community. We probably would have joined the church, but it was 25 miles from us and Steve retired.

We eventually signed a three-way covenant with United Church, the Conference and me defining my “role.” We attended several months, and we felt Pastor Brady was supportive. But we finally decided, we needed to move on. We eventually joined Church of the Palms, and two years ago decided to relocate to southeast Kansas to be near family.

All of this information (I hope I’ve not bored you to death) leads to my viewpoint of being a retired/exempt pastor. I sought exemption status; we were moving to southeast Kansas and attending boundary training and other meetings was not financially or physically possible.

From my experience (which may be uniquely mine) retirement in some ways is a period of disorientation. In my case I found it very difficult to find a role wherein I could still be involved and of some service and yet not intrusive. The Church of the Palms was very welcoming and if we had stayed in Sun City, I probably would have found some role.

What I don’t feel the denomination has really addressed is pathway for some of us to feel we still matter or that our ordination means anything anymore. I don’t want to preach or lead worship. But I also think in some ways exempt status and ordination are almost a contradiction in terms.

Some exempt pastors may find their new status isn’t an issue. I am not exactly sure what the denomination might or could do for some retired clergy. Some retirees may find a new church home and feel “orientated.” Some of us may need more pastoral care and help in finding our footing. In any case I thought maybe my experience might be something that would provide you food for thought.

When there’s nothing good to thank God for

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Give thanks to the Lord because God is good,
because God’s faithful love lasts forever.”
(Psalm 118:1)

In reading this verse I was once again struck by my tendency to “give thanks to the Lord” not because God is good, but because of my perception that God is good to me. If I’m honest, I have to acknowledge that I want to “give thanks to the Lord” not because God’s love lasts forever, but because of my sense that somehow, that love has shined on me.

But what about when bad things happen? What about God feels absent? I confess that my default tendency in those moments is not to “give thanks to the Lord.” How can I thank God when there’s nothing good to thank God for?

And there it is–when it feels like “there’s nothing good to thank God for,” perhaps I’m missing the point of giving thanks. As a person of faith, I’m invited to give thanks to God because God is good, not because God does or doesn’t do good things for me. As a person of faith, I’m invited to give thanks to God because God’s love is bigger and broader and deeper and more eternal than anything else in my life–good or bad. 

As a person of faith, I’m invited to accept the invitation of the psalmist and give thanks to God because of who God is and how God loves. Period. 

And you are, too.

May it be so!
Deb

Inclining our Ear Toward God: Listening As A Church

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

In a world full of solutions, opinions, and advice, listening is one of the most important gifts we can offer one another. It is an act of healing and vision. For people of faith and their communities, the gift of listening both to one another and God offers a path to spiritual renewal and grants congregations a vision of their identity. In a time when congregations are experiencing a steep decline in membership and facing significant uncertainty, learning to listen deeply to one another and seeking through listening to discern God’s path for a faith community’s future just might be one of the most important acts a church can engage in.

Rev. Chad Abbott and I minister in a denomination (UCC) that believes “God is still speaking.” The phrase expresses the reality that God is much more mysterious and far-reaching than we can understand. While the Bible continues to serve as the primary source of revelation for Christians, God is still being revealed to us in this world, in a culture the ancient world could not have imagined.

Sadly, it is evident to us as leaders in the Mainline American church that many Christians do not know how to listen for God, despite their deep longing to connect with a God who still speaks. Just as individual Christians struggle to listen for God, faith communities labor to listen for God together. Many are not able to slow down and approach church life in a reflective, contemplative manner.

Chad and I have written “Incline Your Ear: Cultivating Spiritual Awakening in Congregations” (Fortress Press, 2021) to encourage spiritual growth and vitality in faith communities in this listening pursuit. Throughout our book we share spiritual practices designed to help your congregation “incline its ear” toward God. Notice we used the singular “ear.” We believe congregations need to understand themselves as unified — one body, rather than a collection of individuals. As we are both spiritual directors, we explain the principles and practices of contemporary spiritual direction so that congregations can understand and use them. We even outline a “Congregational Spiritual Road Map” at the end of each chapter with step-by-step instructions for leading spiritual practices in awareness of God, reflection on the congregation’s life together, discernment, and creating an action plan to move forward on what is discerned.

With each important decision we make, with every relationship we build, with every church mission statement or ministry we design, and in matters of vocation and prophetic witness, the skills of discernment and listening in the spiritual life will make for vital congregations. While we face declining membership and generational shifts in loyalty to the church, it is clear to us that it is both a challenging, and exciting time to be the church. We have the opportunity to imagine a new future as we listen for God’s leading. All the spiritual resources we need to become that newly-imagined and future church is already within and around us if we will but incline our ear to the work of the Spirit.

We believe this work is so important. The world outside church doors will not wait around for clergy to figure out how to connect contemplative life at home with congregational life at church, so naturally the spiritually curious turn to yoga studios, meditation mats, healing stones, and spirituality apps — and who can blame them? Yet, the church has a deep and abiding tradition of spiritual practices that can help spiritual pilgrims in our time get to the heart of their yearning. In particular, the work of spiritual direction has the potential to not only enhance spiritual vitality in the church, but to push us toward congregational vitality that helps churches more fully live out their mission in the world in a time when a vibrant church is desperately needed.

Rev. Teresa Blythe is the director of the Phoenix Center for Spiritual Direction at First UCC Phoenix. Rev. Chad Abbott is Conference Minister for the Indiana-Kentucky Conference of the UCC.