faith – Page 4 – Southwest Conference Blog

Weary

“Come to me,
all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest.”
–Jesus–
(Matthew 11:28)

Ahhhh…rest….
Who among us doesn’t need rest??

We are all weary.

Some of us might only say we’re a little tired…
Some of us might acknowledge that we’re pretty worn out…
Some of us might go so far as to say, actually, we’re exhausted…
Some of us might be drained beyond words,
on the verge of being totally depleted…

Wherever we fall on that continuum, we are all weary.

And we are all carrying heavy burdens.

For some of us those burdens might be externally apparent–
Perhaps family or work or church or other responsibilities…
Perhaps visible health concerns, known losses, or shared struggles…
For others of us our burdens might be internally held–
Perhaps hidden grief or secret shame or unspoken despair…
Perhaps unacknowledged addiction or abuse,
or long-buried resentment or rage…
For some of us–perhaps most of us–the burdens are of both types…

Whether externally apparent or internally held,
we are all carrying heavy burdens.

So what do we do? How do we get the rest that Jesus promises?
How do we let him lighten our load,
ease our burdens,
and tend to our souls?

That’s a question each of us has to answer for ourselves.

What do you do to allow space in your life for soul-tending?

What do you do to grant Jesus access to your weariness and burdens?

How do you respond to his invitation,
“Come to me…and I will give you rest?”

One of the ways I respond, when I recognize that my spirit needs tending, is by getting away to stillness and solitude. It may only be for an hour, for a hike in the nearby hills, or–when I’m both very much in need and very lucky (and the planets are in alignment!), it may be for twenty-four hours [or, as it turns out, forty-eight!], for an overnight stay/silent retreat at a nearby monastery (which is where I am as I write this, as the Our Lady of Guadalupe Abbey in Pecos–the picture below is from last night).

We are all weary, and we are all carrying heavy burdens,
and our souls all need tending.

“Come to me…and I will give you rest,” Jesus promises.

How do you respond?

Peace, and rest for our weary souls, be with us all.
Deb

Not Again…What Do We Do Now?

by Kay Klinkenborg, Church of the Palms UCC

Disappointed, angry, frustrated, discouraged, maybe even despair. Here we are again with COVID cases rising. We set our hopes and dreams on a different outcome and projected what our future for 2021 would hold. But maybe, just maybe that is what creates our pain, of not accepting ‘reality’ as it is. We had no guarantees, no promises, some stated hopes from the professional scientists. But we are in uncharted waters headed to a new land in which we haven’t lived before. And we’re most certainly grieving that it hasn’t played out as we hoped.

Where does faith and hope fit in this current ‘reality’? Right smack dab in the middle of it! For if we allow ourselves to be projecting out front of ourselves as to what will be, we set up unrealistic expectations. Faith is dealing with realistic realities, so we must practice realistic expectations for the months, possibly years ahead.

Our world prides itself that there are advanced countries with vast resources. But a fact of nature, Coronavirus, COVID has brought us to our knees. As has the ‘Red Alert of Climate Change’ announced this week by the UN report of climatic changes and predictions for the future. But that is not the only pandemic happening in our world. Disastrous weather events, fires, massive floods, hurricanes, earthquakes, famine, wars, racism, Afghanistan crisis, the rise of nationalism and white extremist groups in America and abroad. Are we overwhelmed, YES and if we aren’t, we are numb or disconnected from reality.

So, what are the realistic expectations on which we need to focus? I offer no panacea of actions, but I do offer life lessons that have brought me through tough times and documented by numerous others in memoirs and professional literature.

First: we are not alone. Numerous scripture reminders of this truth comfort us. Isaiah 43: 5 states: “Fear not for I am with you…” “FEAR NOT” is in the Bible 365 times. Isn’t it intriguing to think that thousands of years ago people were leaning on those same words just as we need them today? And there is the profound gift of the Presence of the Divine in each of us, so we are here for each other.

Second: we don’t have to have all the answers. Living with ‘unknowing’ is hard and stressful. But it is also a learned art in our spiritual journey. Life doesn’t come with guarantees. And if we are learning that for the first time…we must own our naivete. We each come learning how to cope in new ways; how to be friends and present for each other. We come learning that ‘ambiguity’, not knowing can be a personal place of growth in our faith journey. In the book, The Wisdom of Not Knowing: Discovering A Life of Wonder by Embracing Uncertainty, Dr Estelle Frankel reminds us that “spiritual evolution doesn’t take place through inquiry…but meditating with complex questions.” Sit with our questions…don’t be afraid of questions.

Third: we can do this one hard thing! Travel this journey, live with the unknown outcomes. Take one day at a time. Believe in ourselves and the strength of God that underpins the core of who we are and lives within us. We have all done hard things before we didn’t think we could do or find our way through. But we did. We are resilient! We can remain resilient. And tapping into our ingenuity and creativity and sharing that with one another is a miracle gift in time of struggle. We can be a balm to others; we can allow others to be balm to us.

Fourth: we need to ask for what we need. People can’t read our minds. If we need a phone call or a visit with a safe vaccinated person and share a cup of tea, we need to speak up. It is not a time to be shy. Yes, some of us with underlying medical conditions must limit the size of groups in which we can participate; but we can still practice safe health measures. And don’t forget our technology…phones and internet for some.

Fifth: claim and practice our creativity that each of us can embody. Erich Fromm, in Man for Himself states: “Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties.” We have an opportunity to engage with the ‘extraordinary in the ordinary’ of our daily lives. From the dishes we wash, the smell of clean laundry, the food we prepare. Very mundane tasks we think; but Celtic spirituality teaches us these are the moments where the sacred insights and ‘ahh’ can pop open and bring delightful surprise. Creativity is like art…it is merely anything you do or produce or participate in that expresses who you are. You don’t have to be a formal artist, it isn’t with paint, brush, or graphic pencils…but it can be. One such experience was in a women’s group I led in Missouri; we had a share-our creativity-day. Women brought home canned goods from their gardens; a term paper written for a college class; a pie they baked for a sick friend. Crochet, knitting, quilt pieces, favorite recipes copied off to share. A letter of encouragement to their children. And the list went on. Creativity expressing who they were and how they saw themselves in the moment.

“In Jewish Kabbalah tradition, creativity is also linked with the divine realm. All forms of creative expression is linked with divine nothingness, ayin. According to Kabbalah, all wisdom, understanding, and knowledge flow from ayin. Oft quoted is Job: 28:12: ‘Wisdom emerges from nothingness [ayin}.’ “ Estelle Frankel, The Wisdom of Not Knowing; p 124.

What we fear about being stymied, bored, and restricted once again is we are about ‘nothing’; not able to do what we hoped for…again what are the realistic expectations?

Sixth: take a serious look at the skills you brought forth at other times of struggles. Lean back into what worked before. Maybe it was prayer, quiet time alone, talk with a trusted friend, reading spiritual literature or the Bible. Take a virtual walk with your computer in this time of heat waves…look up beautiful scenes and use your imagination to be in that place absorbing that beauty. Grab a favorite book or picture album off your shelf. It can change a gloomy day into one of joy. We all underestimate the skills we have used to survive in hard times. I found that consistently with my clients and spiritual directees. When I helped them begin to list ‘how did you do that?” they are astounded at the skills they brought forth to make things work. We function so unconsciously many times, we don’t claim all that has taken place that reveals quite a remarkable coping individual.

Seventh: it is not an abnormal reaction to these times to need to seek out professional help; even for a few sessions to talk with someone neutral. We are our own worst enemies in judging our coping skills as lacking. Seek out a Spiritual Companion/Director or Counselor. Don ‘t expect that any of us needs to go this alone. It is a highly tense unexpected set of world circumstances; none of us has the map. But we can journey together, and support can make all the difference.

Eighth: don’t be afraid of reality. Look this square in the face. This won’t change tomorrow or the next day. We must have realistic expectations…the hoped for, dreamed about end to this is not visible. We must live in reality to be healthy and take adequate care of our bodies, minds, and souls. Living out into the future is wasted energy; now I am not saying we don’t make plans…but let us learn to make plans to will require us to be fluid and flexible in these times. Learning to ‘be in the moment like never before’ can become a mantra, a sustenance, a relief.

Nadia Bolz-Weber, ordained minister and public inspirational speaker wrote on her monthly e-letter a week ago:

“Because actual reality is also the only place where actual joy is to be found. If joy is delayed until a preferred future comes about, we set ourselves up for despair. But if there is hope in THIS day. Joy in THIS reality. This life. This body. This heart, then certainly we can prevail.

We can. We will. We are.

Be gentle with yourselves right now.” Nadia Bolz-Weber

I have no doubt we can continue on this hard journey, find our way, find joy where we least expect it, and experience a deeper faith and understanding of the Divine within us and others. We can do this one hard thing: look reality in the face, practice our faith, and be honest about our struggles on this unexpected tumultuous journey.

© Kay F. Klinkenborg, MA August 2021
Spiritual Director/Counselor
Retired RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT
(Assoc. for Marriage & Family Therapists)
Member Church of the Palm, Sun City, AZ

9/11 and COVID

by Dr. Kristina “Tina” Campbell

“We live in a city named after a great mythic bird who majestically rises with open wings out of a pile of smoldering ashes, and it is in this spirit of resilience that I record the religious community’s response to September 11, 2001. Ultimately, September 11^th will become a very personal experience for those of us who have conscious memory of an autumn day when acts of terrorism altered the course of human history and thought. Historians will tell of the events of the day, including the political, military, and economic climate. It is my desire to record the response of the faithful, much of which runs counter to the dominant cultural perspective. Throughout the ages, people of faith have raised a dissident voice, and it is this voice that is recorded in these pages.” This is the opening paragraph of a document entitled Out of the Ashes: The Faithful Respond to September 11, 2001, the result of a grant I received from the UCC National Office of Justice and Witness. I felt it important to create an historical document of the faithful’s response to this life altering event, and to take special care to record the response of the Southwest Conference of the United Church of Christ.

Bernice Powell Jackson, Executive Minister for Justice and Witness Ministries for the United Church of Christ reminded us, “In a sermon at the Riverside Church in New York City exactly one year before his assassination, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said these prophetic words: We can no longer afford to worship the god of hate or bow before the altar of retaliation. The oceans of history are made turbulent by the ever-rising tides of hate…. If we do not want to act, we shall surely be dragged down the long, dark, and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.“

The United Church of Santa Fe borrowed words from the last homily of Archbishop Oscar Romero. These words were spoken the day before he was assassinated in San Salvador in 1980: “All that we are and all that we do is in God’s hands. What that means for us, my sisters and brothers, at this time is to pray very much, and to be very united with God.”

Edith Guffey, Associate General Minister of the United Church of Christ issued these words: “Although we are but one of the many expressions of who God is in our world, we are mindful of our call and our denomination’s rich heritage as peacemakers.”

Dr. John Herman preached at Desert Palm United Church of Christ in Tempe: “This is a dangerous time for our nation-not simply for us today, but for generations not even born. We need great wisdom to avoid precipitating a bloodbath that could undermine our own national principles of equality and justice and which could soil our name for all history. What we do need is authentic patriotism.”

The Reverend Ruthanne Cochran shares: “I have sadness within me for all the people whose lives are being changed, work destroyed, dreams shattered, and livelihoods uncertain. We work a lifetime to create reality out of our dreams, and for reasons beyond our control, the dreams are sometimes shattered. Whatever happens to the people in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania, they cannot live in the ashes. They have to rebuild and re-dream, rekindle our ashes of what might have been. We have to rebuild, re-dream, rekindle our feelings and be open to God knocking at our hearts. We can’t sit around in the ash. We have to take some time to think about what has happened, and then we have to open our ears for another knock at our hearts. It shall come!!”

COVID has presented communities of faith with many of the same challenges as 9/11, and I feel it is important to record the faithful’s response during the pandemic. Our response will be measured far beyond the challenge of technology. Some questions that might be addressed are:

How did we extend pastoral care to the COVID First Responders?

How did we extend prayerful support to our local hospitals?

How did we provide comfort to those who lost loved ones during COVID and were unable to gather for memorial services?

How did our preaching address the fear of illness and death?

What specific programs did we create to address the needs created by COVID?

How do we move forward in hope?

Dr. Campbell, UCC clergy, served as Associate Staff for Social Concerns for the Southwest Conference of the United Church of Christ at the time of 9/11, and served as a Staff Chaplain at Phoenix Children’s Hospital throughout the COVID pandemic.

Wait—what??

by Rev. Deb Worley

“I could ask the darkness to hide me
or the light around me to become night,
but even darkness is not dark for you,
and the night is as bright as the day….”

(Psalm 139:11-12)

Wait—what??

“I could ask the darkness to hide me
or the light around me to become night…”

I don’t know about you, but I tend to want the exact opposite–
generally, I want to get out of the darkness;
I’m eager for the night to become day,
for the darkness to turn to light…

Why was the psalmist wanting the darkness to hide him?
Why, if he was in the light, was he wanting that light to become dark?

I can’t help but wonder if he was feeling ashamed of something–
ashamed, and wanting to hide away in the dark….

Or perhaps he was feeling depressed–
and wanting to keep others from seeing it….

Maybe he was feeling
unwanted, unworthy,
unlikable, unlovable–
and imagining
that if he couldn’t see himself,
his feelings of wretchedness
would be similarly invisible….

Those kinds of feelings
can make us want to hide,
can make us afraid
of anyone looking too deeply into us,
can cause us to wish
that any light that happens to be shining on us
would magically turn to darkness,
suddenly turn to night….

Those kinds of feelings can cause us
to not want to be seen,
to feel ashamed to be known,
to feel unworthy of being loved….

Those kinds of feelings, I can imagine,
might lead us to want
to be hidden in the darkness,
to be hidden by the darkness….

“I could ask the darkness to hide me
or the light around me to become night…”

Hmmm…I think I get it….

And yet…
the psalmist realizes
that even in the darkness,
he won’t be hidden from God.
Even if the light turns to night,
God will still see him.

God will still see him,
and seeing him, God will love him.

God will still see him–and his shame and depression–
and God will love him.

God will still see him–and his feelings of being unworthy and unlovable–
and God will love him.

The psalmist realizes that
no matter the darkness of the night,
no matter the darkness of his soul,
the brightness of God’s love will shine on him still.
Period.

He need not fear the light,
he need not fear being seen,
he need not long to be hidden by the dark.

He is seen by God, and he is loved.
Period.

So it is for us.

May the peace of God be with us all.
Amen.
Deb

Come and See

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

“But I did not believe the reports until I came and my own eyes had seen it. Not even half had been told me; … wisdom and prosperity far surpass the report that I had heard.”
(This is Victoria’s loose translation of 1 Kings 10:7.)

For many years now, I have been drawn to Loretto Chapel and its miraculous staircase in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Having lived a bit in Kentucky earlier in my life, I had visited the motherhouse of the Sisters of Loretto in Nerinx (near Bardstown), Kentucky, and had heard the tales of the sisters there heading out the “wild west” to educate girls. I never imagined that years later I would relocate to Santa Fe and then be employed at what is now called Loretto Chapel Museum.

Like the translation above of 1 Kings 10:7, the Queen of Sheba had heard about the accomplishments and fame of King Solomon, but she did not believe it until she came and with her own eyes had seen it all. Many have heard about the miraculous staircase at Loretto Chapel, but some must make the journey to see it with their own eyes. Hundreds of guests flock to Loretto Chapel daily to gaze upon this staircase (constructed in late 1879, after the chapel had been completed a year prior in 1878). People of faith call this staircase “miraculous” because we do not know for sure who built it, how it can stand with no center support, or the wood from which it has been made. There are several theories about these things, but the Sisters of Loretto could live with mystery (and so can I).

Every day that I work at Loretto Chapel, I hear dozens of tales about how modern-day pilgrims have traveled to this remarkable place. Here is one such story:

Just last week, a young Spanish-speaking man came to visit our chapel and was trying to ask me questions about its miraculous staircase. Pedro’s English skills are much better than my Spanish skills, so I let him take the lead on this conversation. Pedro was accompanied by two very elderly people who appeared to be well-worn from lots of sunshine, decades of hard work, and whatever trials and tribulations they might have undergone in life. Pedro told me that these two people were his grandparents and he had driven them in his car all the way from a village outside of Mexico City to Santa Fe. His grandparents had just one wish before they died: to see the miraculous staircase at Loretto Chapel with their own eyes. Pedro looked so young to be taking his grandparents on a journey like this. Whatever his age, I do think it is noteworthy that a teenager would drive his elderly grandparents from central Mexico to Santa Fe to see Loretto Chapel and its staircase before they die!

Pedro and his grandparents had heard of Loretto Chapel and its miraculous staircase, but they wanted to see it with their own eyes. Pedro was able to tell me that the mystery and beauty of this well-constructed staircase far surpassed any reports that they had heard.

Why do religious pilgrims of all ages and of all faiths make long, difficult journeys to sacred places? What draws people to these places? Is it the spirit of God that calls us? Or is it the voices of our ancestors that beckon us? Could it be both? Where has God’s still-speaking voice called you? When you finally arrive at such a sacred space, what do you do? Take photos? Buy souvenirs at the gift shop? Sit quietly and meditate? Like Pedro and his grandparents… do you light a candle and say a prayer of gratitude for mystery, beauty, and a miracle that we may never understand? Pedro and his grandparents were expecting to encounter God inside Loretto Chapel… and I am certain that they did.

(If you do not know much about Loretto Chapel and its miraculous staircase, here is a short video clip to whet your appetite!)

What languages do you speak?

by Rev. Deb Worley

When the day of Pentecost had come…all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages….[Everyone] heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that…in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power[?]” (Selected verses from Acts 2, NRSV)

Question of the day: What languages do we speak? Do those around us hear us speaking about God in languages they can understand?

In my late teens and early 20’s, I learned to speak Portuguese and Spanish fairly fluently, living for a time in Brazil and Mexico. I was proud of myself, as I’d wanted to become fluent in another language since I was young.

As I think about it now, it occurs to me that well before that, I had become fluent in several other “languages.” By that time in my life, for example, I had learned to speak the language of people-pleasing very well, and I was also pretty fluent in perfectionism. The language of judging others came all too naturally, as did the language of “laying down my life for others”—the practice of serving others and putting others’ needs almost exclusively before my own.

Sadly, my fluency in Portuguese slipped away effortlessly over the years, as I used it less and less; in Spanish, less so, as I’ve had some occasions to use it since college, but certainly I’m nowhere near where I used to be.

Thankfully, my fluency in the other “languages” has also decreased somewhat over time, although that hasn’t happened nearly as effortlessly as it did with Portuguese and Spanish. Rather, it has taken more of a concerted effort on my part as I’ve recognized that while those ways of being may seem desirable and praise-worthy, they can all too easily cause deep harm to both my self and those around me.

There are other “languages” I’ve tried to pick up in recent years–ways of speaking, ways of communicating, ways of being in the world–that have taken equally as much effort to learn as those others have taken to unlearn. And, depending on your perspective, they may or may not be viewed as equally desirable.

These new “languages,” however, are much more likely to lead to healing rather than harm, for both my self and those around me. Some of these are the language of acceptance and inclusion, and the language of mistake-making and grace. The language of forgiveness and courage and trust. The language of belovedness.

I hope that in these “languages,” more so than in those of perfectionism and judgment, people-pleasing and self-denial, not only can I move toward greater ease and even fluency, but that as I do, others around me might more readily hear me speaking about God and God’s deeds of power in ways they can more easily hear.

Because that acceptance and grace and forgiveness and courage–that belovedness–is not just for me; it’s not just for us. It’s for “them,” too. It’s for all. But how will they know if we don’t speak a language they can hear?

Peace be with us all.

Deb

Almighty God, in this season of Pentecost, fill us with your Spirit, as you did the first apostles, and send us to those who need to hear about your deeds of power and Love. Open our hearts that we might learn to speak in languages that are not necessarily our own but that will allow others to hear in ways they can understand. Amen.

What If One Word Could Say It?

by Kay F. Klinkenborg

What if one word could provide clarity for the wide range of emotions we have all felt during COVID-19 since March 2020? Try: languishing. Dr. Adam Grant wrote an article: “There’s A Name for the Blah You’re Feeling: It’s called Languishing” for the NY Times, April 19, 2021.

I have heard a wide range of emotions this year: anxiety, fear, empty, listless, depressed, trouble concentrating, and life without a defined direction to name a few. And there have been many sad experiences of loss and resulting grief of loved ones and friends. Also grief of the loss of our normal routines, limitations of what, how and when we could do our predictable routines.

Grant notes that “we think about mental health on a spectrum from depression to flourishing… being the peak of wellbeing.” Prior to COVID many have experienced or known someone close who experiences depression. When depressed you feel despondent, worthless, no energy to move forward. “Languishing is the neglected middle child of mental health” states Grant. One of Webster’s definitions: to lose vigor or vitality.

Remember acknowledging that you weren’t functioning at full capacity, but couldn’t say why? You had no overt symptoms or behaviors to indicate mental illness. I recall days of ‘trying to make myself focus.’ Maybe accomplishing one or two of five goals I would have normally set for the day. I have read other articles that comment that during COVID, people were struggling with the long-haul impact of restrictions and the unknown.

Languishing is the void between depression and flourishing—an absence of wellbeing, but you don’t quite feel yourself either—your motivation is dulled, notes Grant. The potential risk of remaining in ‘languish’ is that one might not notice you are slipping toward depression. You might not be experiencing joy or delight and suddenly realize you haven’t felt that for some time.

Say it aloud, languishing, name it. Grant writes that might be the first step to learning more about it; because we haven’t done many studies on languishing. “Languishing is common and shared.” And thus, is not an abnormal reaction. We have not been through a pandemic before.

The professionals admit there is still a lot to learn about this term.

Grant proposes one of the first things to do in coping with languishing is to ‘be in the flow.’ Fr. Richard Rohr in his book, Divine Dance, writes in numerous chapters about the concept of “flow.” To be in the flow is the experience of trusting the moment and staying focused on the smallest of goals. Being present and not letting your mind wonder hither and yon. Don’t spend energy trying to figure out how to control the situation or others or debating solutions for the biggest of problems that professionals/ elected officials are set out to do. Take a deep breath and remember the Creator designed you, and lives in you and all of creation. Don’t go the judgmental path…go the path of discovery the smallest awes.

I find that spiritually to own languishing means I have to name it and experience it and claim that God is a verb in the midst of all that I am witnessing, hearing, and experiencing. Where is God in what I see today? Where is God in what I heard about today from others? Stay in the flow. We have not been alone in this pandemic; nor are we alone post-pandemic.

Second, set boundaries as to when you are not to be interrupted. You need breathing space to rest and process all that has transpired…even…especially even now… as we see a ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ in America as more are vaccinated. All processing doesn’t happen in the exact moment…when we can’t name what is happening. We need to bring some grace to ourselves and others for quite reflective time. A time for energy to be restored. Maybe it is a time when you read a novel, do some craft work, have a project. The important thing…it is your time with boundaries and no interruptions.

Third, pick small goals (Grant). This pandemic was a BIG LOSS. Maybe a short word game, one meaningful conversation with a trusted friend 1-2 times a week to own the gift of that friendship to you and to them. Maybe you color in an adult coloring book. It doesn’t matter the goal…make it a small one. No one is here to judge you about how you spend your time or what you need to do to complete a goal that feels satisfying.

One of the most important sentences in Grant’s article is: “Languishing is not merely in our heads…it’s in our circumstance.” You didn’t cause this…you aren’t making it worse. Many journalists, mental health professionals, and trauma psychologists remind us we are entering a post-pandemic reality. And with that will be some who have some Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for which they need to seek some professional health; particularly if they aren’t eating, can’t motivate themselves to get up, are isolating from others, and feel ‘blue’ beyond what they can manage.

We can now begin with the lists above to address how the post-pandemic awareness of what languishing is and has been in our past 15 months. Give voice, name it, there is power in naming what is happening with you. Your courage to name it…will encourage others to name it too…and that empowers each of you to move forward with positive steps into more ‘thriving’ modes of living.

Kay F. Klinkenborg © May 2021

Church of the Palms

Kay is a Spiritual Director; Retired: RN, LMFT and Clinical Member AAMFT. She chairs the Life Long Learning Board at Church of the Palms, serves on the CARE TEAM, and the W.I.S.E. Steering Committee.

An Antidote for My Racing Mind

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Happy are those…[whose] delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on [God’s] law they meditate day and night.
They are like trees planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season…”

(from Psalm 1)

As I lay in bed last week, for hours and hours…and hours…, waiting for my body to recover from whatever bug I had caught that laid me up (or more accurately, laid me down!), there were times when my mind went in a million different directions. On occasion, as it raced, in an attempt to calm it down, I found myself reciting some of these simple phrases: “God is good…God is faithful…God is with us….”

Those phrases are not necessarily found among the 613 commandments found in the Hebrew Bible–“the law of the Lord”–and as such, are likely not what the psalmist was referring to when he wrote about those happy people who “delight in the law of the Lord,” meditating on it nonstop.

But to me, those phrases–God is good…God is faithful…God is with us–encapsulate much of the truth and beauty and power of our faith.

And when I can think about those things rather than the things that cause me anxiety or fear, then I become more solidly grounded–kind of like a tree.

When I can think about those things rather than all the things I don’t know or don’t understand, then I become more deeply nourished–kind of like a tree whose roots are fed by nearby water.

When I can think about those things rather than trying to desperately figure out how I can solve, fix, or help everyone or everything around me, then I become less tied to both my efforts and the immediate outcomes and tangible results, and more trusting of things happening as and when they need to–kind of life a tree whose roots are fed by nearby water, whose fruit grows when it’s time for the fruit to grow.

I’m pretty sure I will never find delight in meditating on the 613 laws found in the Old Testament. But I trust I will continue to find meaning in meditating on the simple and profound truths found in phrases such as “God is good” and “God is faithful” and “God is with us.”.

I wonder if you do, too?

Peace be with us all.
Deb

Photo by Michael & Diane Weidner on Unsplash

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

Make the Change During Lent

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

We have found some Lenten inspiration in rocks and minerals collected from around the globe: some samples from six of our seven continents are placed on the mantle of the kiva fireplace in our living room. (We have yet to make it to Antarctica and it is unlikely that we would bring back any rock specimens from that frigid place anyway.)

To these ancient rocks, we added dry sticks collected from the arroyo (the steep-sided gully that is bone dry most of the time) in the high mountain desert where we have made our home (for now). Rocks and sticks… seemingly lifeless. After the Festival of the Epiphany (January 6), we had plenty of used, spent, short, stubby white candles on hand. The tired candles from Epiphany were recycled into new symbols for our Lenten journey.

Each Sunday, another candle is lighted. Purple cloth is added now for a bit of color.

Eventually, all six of these candles will be aglow (one for each completed week of this journey through the desert), the stones will be rolled away for good, the purple cloth will be replaced with something else (yet unseen and yet unknown).

So it is with the human heart this Lent. Heavy rocks, dry sticks, leftover candles are symbolic reminders of what might be hiding in our hearts. Specifically, if your life seems out of balance, move things around. (Restructure your work week so that you can balance work, relaxation, and sleep.) If your days are too busy and your life is too full, get rid of what is no longer needed. (Don’t sign up for another socially distant online study group, if another Zoom meeting does not bring you joy.) If you need more meaning in your life, find a place where you can safely volunteer or give back to your community. (Perhaps there are safe volunteer opportunities through your church, the schools in your city, or at the public library.) If darkness seems to surround you and the sky seems gray, then add more light to your home and perhaps a bit more color to your wardrobe. Real, lasting change is hard! Here is a link to article that might be helpful to you if you choose to make changes in your life.

Lent is a time for transformation. As we have counted the days of Lent, beginning on Ash Wednesday (February 17), we have made intentional changes every single day on our kiva mantle. At first, the changes were small – barely noticeable. As the days moved along, the changes have become more obvious. The spent white candles, leftover from a joyful season gone-by, were replaced with purple candles. The rocks and minerals were moved about daily and exchanged for others from our collection. Finally, the sticks were transformed. The random sticks were lugged out to the garage and prayerfully handled, then cracked, snapped, and then broken apart to be made into something new. The straightest parts of our random sticks were fashioned into a simple cross, secured with twine to hold them securely together.

It is not too late to join us on this transformational journey towards new life. Be open to a whole new look and expect a complete transformation in your heart by Easter!

Prayer for Transformation:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference. Amen.*

*This is what Wikipedia says about this prayer: “The Serenity Prayer is a prayer written by theologian Reinhold Niebuhr (1892–1971). Niebuhr composed the prayer in 1932-33. The prayer spread rapidly, often without attribution to Niebuhr, through church groups in the 1930s and 1940s and was adopted and popularized by Alcoholics Anonymous and other twelve-step programs. Niebuhr used it in a 1943 sermon at Heath Evangelical Union Church in Heath, Massachusetts. It also appeared in a sermon of Niebuhr’s in the 1944 Book of Prayers and Services for the Armed Forces, while Niebuhr first published it in 1951 in a magazine column. Early versions of the prayer are given no title, but by 1955, it was being called the Serenity Prayer in publications of Alcoholics Anonymous.”