Making Space for God

I spent Advent this year making space for God. I threw out things I don't need. I set aside a few minutes each day for prayer and gratitude. I didn't buy as many gifts as usual, and spent more time writing cards to loved ones.

Instead of being full of myself, I'm trying to be full of God.

I was inspired by this Lao Tzu poem, called "The Uses of Not."

Thirty spokes meet in the hub.
Where the wheel isn't is where it's useful.
Hollowed out, clay makes a pot.
Where the pot's not is where it's useful.
Cut doors and windows to make a room.
Where the room isn't, there's room for you.

When we empty ourselves, we make space for God. We leave room to listen to the better angels of our nature.

May the angels sing to you, bringing good news of great joy to all people! Christmas blessings.

Not So Little Town of Bethlehem

This is the first Christmas when I will sing "O Little Town of Bethlehem" and actually know what Bethlehem looks like, who lives there, and what life is like for them.

Bethlehem is not a little town. It is not still. And very few Christians live there today. It is in the West Bank of Palestine, and the guide who led us through the city last June described it as an "open air prison." The sign on the Bethlehem tourism bureau asks visitors to "Pray for Palestine." Arabs who live there are under constant control by Israeli troops, who have built separation walls that inhibit travel by the majority Muslim population.

I just received an email from Nazareth, the site of the angel's annunciation to Mary two thousand years ago. The mayor of Nazareth Illit, which is an Israeli twon with a 7 percent Arab Christian minority, has decided to ban the public display of Christmas trees. He said that Nazareth is a "Jewish city" and wants to maintain the ban as long as he is in office.

There is work to do, friends. The work of love and justice.

This is a prayer written by a man named Raj Patta from Bangalore. He recently visited Bethlehem in a group that included our own member Pauline Coffman.

I thought young Joseph would be there welcoming
but it was young men with guns at checkpoints incoming.
I thought young Mary would be there welcoming
But it was young women with guns at checkpoints incoming.
I thought then it would be the manger that's welcoming
but shockingly, it was the huge concrete wall of separation.
A wall of division
A wall of segregation
A wall of occupation
A wall of humiliation
A wall of discrimination
Making the birht of Jesus' place invisible.

O Jesus, come now to be born again here
to break these walls of domination
to tear down thse walls of demonization
to break open the cruel hearts of oppressions
to restore liberation and peace on this earth
and to bring glad tidings of joy to all these people.
Come Jesus, and come now!

Gelassenheit

No, that's not Gesundheit (God bless you). The word for Advent is Gelassenheit -- which means "shedding" or "letting go."

Meister Eckhart was a theologian and mystic in 14th century Germany, who developed the term Gelassenheit. In this season of the year, when many people are focused on acquiring more -- gifts, cookies, egg nog and ugly holiday sweaters -- Christians are instead invited to shed.

Shedding in the spiritual sense refers to more than just giving up stuff. It also means letting go of anxieties, ceasing to cling to what we want, and ceasing to insist on our own way. Gelassenheit means letting go of our focus on results. It means relaxing into what is already true. We work, but it is actually God who makes things happen.

Holly Whitcomb is a spiritual director in Wisconsin. When one of her directees is doubting God's involvement in their life, Holly asks them to go home and find a container. It could be a Mason jar or a bowl or a box. That container then becomes God's In-Box. When a person feels concerned or worried, she asks them to write down their concern and drop it in God's In Box.

This becomes a visual symbol of God's care and keeping. We remember that we are not alone, that God is in control. God is at work and will be at work in our lives, and God takes our worries seriously.

You can read more about Holly Whitcomb in her book "The Seven Spiritual Gifts of Waiting." There is a copy in the church library.

In the meantime, I'll close with another quotation from Meister Eckhart: "If the only prayer you ever say is THANK YOU, that will be enough."

Gelassenheit!

Advent - Who Wants to Wait?

So yesterday (Sunday, Nov. 27) was the first Sunday of Advent. I taught a class on Spiritual Practices for Advent. I preached a sermon about Advent. And in the afternoon I went shopping for gifts for a family who cannot afford Christmas presents. This meant I waited in line at Kohl's. And I was impatient.

We preachers are always talking about the spiritual value in waiting, and I guess I need to keep preaching about it, because I'm not quite "there" yet. I know what I want, and I want it now. But maybe I've gotten a little better. I've learned . . . good things come to those who wait.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a French Jesuit priest, said it even better:
Above all, trust in the slow work of God. We are, quite naturally, impatient in everything to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages; we are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new. And yet, it is the law of all progress that it is made by pasing through some stages of instability . . . and that it may take a very long time.

What is Progressive Christianity?

We often describe First United as a progressive church. What does that mean?

1. We practice sacred activism. Justice and peace in society are core values for us, and we seek to blend spirituality and social change.
2. We believe in gender equality and openness to people who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered or questioning their sexual orientation (shortened to LGBTQ). Leadership, membership, sacraments and ordination should be open to all people.
3. We have compassion for the poor and the oppressed and we seek to transform the root causes of injustice in our society. This is evident from our strong commitment to charity and advocacy.
4. We affirm that the teachings of Jesus are primary for us, and that we can draw from diverse sources of wisdom in our spiritual journey. We respect other faiths and seek to be in dialogue with other religious traditions.
5. The Earth is our home and we seek to protect and restore the integrity of Creation.
6. We take the Bible seriously, but not literally. Bible study and scholarship is a hallmark of our faith, and so we understand that a complete reading of the Bible requires understanding context, history and internal consistencies. We do not worship the Bible, but we understand it as the Word of God that points to Jesus Christ.
7. Our way of life is more important than accepting certain beliefs and doctrines of faith. Following Jesus and acting upon our convictions is much more vital than assenting to ideas about faith.
8. We embrace mystery, ambiguity and paradox. God is at the same time as close as our breathing and as distant as the farthest star. Jesus is both human and divine. The Holy Spirit comforts us and also drives us to go out in mission. Our faith tradition is not simple.
9. We are saved for abundant life in this world. We do not believe that salvation is a form of "fire insurance" that protects us from going to hell. We pray that God's realm would come to earth as it is in heaven, even while we look forward to resurrection after death.
10. We believe that God is still speaking. Jesus told his disciples that there were things he could not tell them, because they were not yet ready to be revealed. God's revelation is ongoing, and we hear and see and experience God's presence in daily life when we prayerfully pay attention.

The answer to a hard day at the office

I love being a pastor, but I have to admit that even ministers have day days.

I had one of those bad days this week. There was too much going on, everyone needed something from me, a few things happened that were really disappointing, and I felt stressed all day long.

On my way home, I thought, I need a drink! Then I realized that wasn't it. I need to eat . . . a lot, I thought to myself. I began to picture all the leftover Halloween candy on the counter at home. Then I realized that wasn't it, either.

I know, I go see the latest George Clooney movie with my daughter, I thought. It's been on my list for awhile . . . but that wasn't it either.

So I came home and watched two episodes of "The Colbert Rerpot," and I felt better. And then I realized there was something else I still needed, deep down. I wanted to pray. I needed time with God.

So I did pray. And it was exactly what I needed.

I used to think prayer was something I did to calm down. Or to ask for help. But now I think of prayer as something I do to shed by constant preoccupation with myself. When I pray in a contemplative way, it allows me to set aside my egoistic preoccupation. Prayer allows me to focus on someone else for awhile.

And that's what I really need. Even on good days.

Making Space for Listening

As a pastor, I spend a lot of time listening to people. I hear stories about fears, doubts, health concerns, frustrations, and conflicts. I work hard to be attentive to each person who confides in me, because so often holy conversations can be healing and enlightening.

But I will confess there are times when my attention gets diverted, like a puppy chasing a ball. I lose focus, and I get distracted by related thoughts or background issues. My mind is too busy to concentrate.

I find there is a great value in silence, for creating space in my listening heart. When I practice silent prayer, it allows me to clear out the accumulations of my mind. It's almost like clearing my desk before I begin to work . . . to make space for a new task.

If you would like to improve your ability to listen to other people with empathy and attentiveness, I recommend you practice at least 20 minutes of silent prayer each day. We need to make space for listening, and empty our "self" to make room for the sacred stories of others. That space allows the Spirit to move.

Four Pathways to God's Love

Just about every Sunday, I will hear from someone that they didn't like a certain element of worship. And a few minutes later, someone else will come to me and tell me how meaningful that same element of worship was to them.

We have different ways of experiencing God's love.

Those who are FEELING PEOPLE experience God's love through beauty and devotion. They are attracted to a personal, intimate sense of divine reality. They find God in praise, thanksgiving, the arts and nature.

Those ACTIVISTS among us find God's love in what is good. They pursue moral concerns, seek the good of their neighbors, establish shalom in the world, and experience God through justice seeking and community building.

Those who are INTELLECTUAL value knowledge. They experience God most deeply through the pursuit of wisdom, and disciplined thinking.

Those who are ICONOCLASTIC will approach God kicking and screaming all the way. Theologian Paul Tillich described this spiritual pathway as "faith forged in the crucible of my doubt." They are skeptics and cynics.

All pathways will lead to God. Each one can be a way home. In every church, all four paths must be open. For most of us, one path is dominant.

And now you know why we don't all appreciate the same things in worship. There are four pathways to God's love. Once you find yours, I invite you to use it often!

Another 10th Anniversary

On Sept. 11th, there were news stories, services of remembrance, and moments of silence wherever we turned. We all took time to recall the 10th anniversay of Sept. 11, 2011.

Our country marks another 10th anniversary this week, to little or no fanfare. On Oct. 7, 2011, it will be 10 years since we started the war in Afghanistan. Strange that our nation's longest war gets so little attention.

World War I lasted four years.
World War II lasted six years.
The War in Afghanistan has lasted ten years, and it is not over yet.

Two thousand American soldiers have lost their lives.
Tens of thousands of Afghan people have died.
Our country has spent $445 trillion on this war.

This is a time for mourning. This is a time for repentance.

This is a time to pray for peace.

This is a time to remember the words of the prophet Isaiah:
Yahweh shall judge between the nations,
and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.
(Isaiah 2:4)

Act for peace. There will be a peace demonstration at noon on Saturday, Oct. 8, at Congress Parkway and Michigan Avenue in Chicago. Bring a flag. Witness for peace and an end to this war. Remember the price we have paid, as we remembered those who lost their lives on 9/11. This sacrifice is even greater.

A group from Oak Park will meet at the Oak Park El station at 11:00 am and travel together.

In the name of the Prince of Peace, Shalom and Salaam.

On the Verge of Sleeping in My Car

One of those calls you don't want to get as a pastor happened to me this week. A church member called me at home and said, "I wanted you to know that Sheila (not her real name) has run out of money and can't extend the lease on her apartment. She doesn't have a job, so she can't get another apartment. We might need to take Sheila in to stay with us, because she's on the verge of having to sleep in her car."

Please know that Sheila is a member of our church. She is a professional with graduate degrees. She has been unemployed for about a year, and without family support Sheila is running out of money. We have been supporting her in many ways, but I was just about out of ideas.

So instead of panicking, I tried something novel. I prayed about Sheila and her situation. I asked God to help me find the right person who could give her a place to live, rent-free and safe. A place Sheila could bring her cat. A place she wouldn't have to move out of in a week.

Guess what? A few people came to mind. All of the people I called are prayerful people, serious contemplative people. Within hours, one of those good people called me and said he had found an apartment for Sheila. Three months, rent-free. In a neighborhood where Sheila would feel safe as a single woman.

I cried when I got off the phone with this man. God is at work through him, and through us. As Tilden Edwards from the Shalem Institute says:

One of the most important things for a congregation is a group of spiritually disciplined, committed people at the core of the community, people whose personal and communal identities and actions are grounded in openness to God as liberating and loving light.

This group sees the community primarily as an organism mysteriously growing from God's grace, rather than as an organization that they can effectively construct from autonomous rational decisions.

All I know is, Sheila doesn't have to sleep in her car tonight. Thank God.

I'm Home. I've Arrived. In the Here. In the Now.

I am engaged in a 16-month program in Contemplative Leadership. Inspired by teachers from the Shalem Institute, I seek every day to spend time in contemplation. Sometimes this is 10 minutes, sometimes 20 or 30. I'll use this blog to help lead you into a more contemplative life, so we can all be on this journey together.

The title of this post is a phrase I learned from Shalem that I recite daily. It's a great temptation for us to be constantly preoccupied and distracted. We dwell on issues from the past. We worry about things coming up in the future.

To still our mind and to quiet our heart to be attentive to what is now, it's good to take a SLOW walk and simply say out loud or to yourself, I'm home. I've arrived. In the here. In the now. We experience God's presence with us in the present moment. The first step in a more contemplative life is to hit the "pause" button on our activities for a few minutes, to be attentive and mindful of what is happening inside us in this moment.

Allow me to share some quotations that help define the nature of contemplation.

"Contemplation is a continual condition of prayerful sensitivity to what is really going on." - Douglas Steere

"Contemplation is looking deepy at life as it is in the very here and now." - Thich Nhat Hanh

"Contemplation is awareness absorbed and amazed." - Teresa of Avila

Before the end of this day, take 10 minutes to sit quietly, with your eyes closed, and recite this phrase: I'm home. I've arrived. In the here. In the now. Then just listen.

Rainbow clergy

So if I ask you to picture a class of seminary students at the Presbyterian seminary in Chicago, what would you imagine?

Fifty years ago, that class might have looked like a bunch of white European men wearing beards and smoking pipes.

Today that class looks like a rainbow of diversity. I know, because I spent a day at McCormick Seminary in Hyde Park with other clergy who are supervising seminary interns. When I entered the room, I saw clergy and seminarians who were black, white and Asian; young, middle aged and senior; male and female; gay and straight; Presbyterian, UCC, and Baptist; wearing jeans, wearing dresses and wearing suits.

Our new pastoral intern is Rick Steele, who started seminary at age 60 after a long career in telecommunications. He spent the summer leading a mission trip of 80 people to rural, impoverished Kentucky; teaching Vacation Bible School; and supporting a not-for-profit children's center on the south side of Chicago.

The face of our church leaders is changing as quickly as the face of our culture and society. Both McCormick (Presbyterian) and Chicago Theological Seminary (United Church of Christ) are training a diverse, dynamic, Spirit-led group of students to lead the church into the future.

Let's give thanks for a rainbow of clergy, who will bring God's Word new life! Let's give thanks for our seminaries and their hard work in training clergy for this new world! And let's give thanks for the people -- young and old, gay and straight, male and female -- whom God will call into ministry from our very own congregation. Do you see someone who has gifts for Christian ministry? Let them know. Let me know.

We will be blessed, challenged and transformed by our pastoral intern this year. Get to know Rick Steele. He's been sent to us for a reason.

Buying a cup of coffee

I learned last week that our local PADS organization is facing some significant funding cuts. This outstanding ministry to homeless men, women and families has experienced a 40 percent reduction in government funding. PADS (Public Action to Deliver Shelter) usually begins operating in mid-September, but this year the season will begin Oct. 1.

Emily Akers, the PADS staff member who works with First United, asked if we might be able to donate the cost of thee coffee that is served to the 50-60 people who spend the night in Centennial Hall on Monday nights once a week. She asked if we could donate the cost of plates, napkins and flatware, too, because the PADS budget has been so sharply reduced.

"Of course," I said. Our operations manager, Fred Henders, will look at the church coffee budget to see if we need to order more to serve for the PADS clients. We will offer PADS the use of our reusable dishes, cups and glasses, and ask our custodians to run the dishwasher every Tuesday morning after the clients have left. These are such small things to ask.

But it troubles me greatly that our most vulnerable neighbors are facing these cuts. Walk-In Ministry executive director Cristy Harris said that their monthly visits have risen dramatically over the summer, and they too are challenged to find more resources to meet the requests for assistance.

Martin Luther King Jr. said the church is called to be the conscience of the nation. The day after I learned about these cuts to PADS, I had a meeting with my Congresswoman Judy Biggert. I told her in no uncertain terms that I cannot accept this shrinking support for the most impoverished members of our society. I hope you will join me in speaking to your state and federal legislators on behalf of those who do not have a voice in our political system.

They deserve much more than just a cup of coffee.

Help for Somalia

Every time I get hungry, I think about Somalia.

Ten million people in East Africa are hungry. Somalia, Ethiopia and Kenya have the lowest level of rainfall in more than 50 years. It's a crisis. Crops are dead, livestock have perished, and local food prices have gone up.

It's a famine: acute malnutrition exists among children (exceeding 30%); more than two persons per 10,000 die daily; and people are not able to access and sufficiently utilize food and other staples.

This causes thousands of people to flee to Kenya from Somalia, and now they have a drought and a refugee crisis.

Meanwhile, I will be attending a 25th anniversary party tonight for a couple I love. Tomorrow, I will be celebrating our church organist, Cathryn Wilkinson, at her farewell party. And finally this morning I put it all together.

Instead of buying an unneeded gift for my friends' anniversary, I will donate money in their honor to the United Church of Christ for famine relief in Somalia. Instead of giving a gift to Cathryn for her farewell, I will donate money in her honor to the Presbyterian Church disaster relief fund for East Africa.

This weekend, while I go to the refrigerator to get what I want for each meal, our denominations are at work in East Africa to provide family food packages, nutritional supplements for children, water for livestock, as well as emergency shelter, clothing and hygiene materials.

The United Church of Christ has issued a $250,000 emergency relief appeal for people in the Eastern Horn of Africa. The Presbyterian Church is at work with other partner agencies, including Church World Service, to help save lives.

If you'd like to be part of this, you may send gifts to:

United Church of Christ
Financial Services
700 Prospect Avenue
Cleveland, OH 44115

or

Presbyterian Church USA
P.O. Box 643700
Pittsburgh, PA 15264-3700

Mark your gifts for East Africa Famine Relief. Be grateful for the love of Christ and for the work of the wider church.

Learning Spirituality on You Tube

This morning I went to Blue Max for a breakfast meeting with our Faith in Action committee and ran into another church member buying a cup of coffee. This man (I'll call him Dan) had talked with me a few months ago about his spiritual life, saying he wanted to go deeper in his prayers but wasn't sure how to move forward.

I told Dan about centering prayer, and suggested that he look up a few books by Thomas Keating, who developed this prayer method. While Dan was in my office, I did an internet search on "centering prayer" and found a You Tube video of the man himself -- Thomas Keating explaining centering prayer! Nice. The world of technology is like a virtual church.

So this morning Dan told me that he uses centering prayer every day and it has changed his life. Thanks, You Tube.

I was part of a contemplative prayer retreat for clergy a week ago, and we were talking about the importance of humility in the life of a pastor. Our leader Tilden Edwards said we could think about our work in developing a sermon as being similar to making a Tibetan Buddhist sand mandala. I'd heard of these, but didn't know the details.

A quick Google visit brought me to a You Tube video of the Dalai Lama and other priests creating a gorgeous sand mandala, only to destroy it as soon as it was finished. This spiritual practice helps demonstrate the reality of impermanence. It helps Buddhists learn to let go of the results of their efforts on the material plane.

Who knew that You Tube could help us go deeper in our life with God?

Keeping the Sabbath Holy

This weekend I am at a contemplative prayer retreat for clergy. We are staying at a Church of the Brethen conference center in New Windsor, MD. On my morning jog, I see more cows than people. The center is placed in a lovely farm community, surrounded by fields, and the sky here seems enormous.

We have had a silent Sabbath today, practicing silence together since 8:00 pm last night. All of our meals are eaten silently. I've learned to eat for pleasure, rather than just to fuel my body. I've learned that food tastes a lot better when you actually pay attention to what you're eating. I can remember every single thing I've eaten in the last 24 hours, because there were no distractions to my meals, and I was not in a hurry. I'd like to eat this way more often!

Tonight we gathered for a silent communion service. We have learned to sit in a circle in quiet reflection, and only the presider spoke during the service. We shared the bread and juice quietly, and passed the peace by grasping each other's hands and looking into each other's eyes, with no words. I could feel the joy of the sacrament, and my heart was full of gratitude at the end of the service.

I walked outside to watch the sun set. Clouds created shadows around the apricot and scarlet rays of the setting sun. And when I looked to the south, I could see lightning flashing across the sky. To the east, the sky was light and to the north, there were just a few clouds. Though the storm raged many miles away to the south, the rest of the horizon was peaceful. An image of life, when you take the time to keep the Sabbath holy.

An Argument with God

A friend of mine I'll call David told me he has a few arguments with God.

When things in his life don't turn out too well, David has some pretty heated discussions with God. When David sees his loved ones suffer, he complains to God in prayer. When the world seems to be going in the wrong direction, David gets just plain mad at God.

David's faith has always been strong, and his relationship with God is passionate. But one day a few months ago, David came to the end of his rope. Everything seemed to be falling apart, and David just couldn't take it anymore. He took the gold cross necklace that he wears every day and he flung it out the window.

Now that's an argument with God. By throwing the cross out the window, David was stating in no uncertain terms that he was done with this relationship. God had disappointed him too many times. He was through.

Life went on, as it always does, and David wondered if anything would change. Now that he had rejected Christ and all the cross stood for, would God be angry? Would God punish him? Or would God even notice? David was tired of arguing, tired of fighting, and he really had nothing more to say.

About three weeks later, David went to check his mailbox. Right outside the mailbox was his cross necklace. There was no note on it. It was not in an envelope. But it wasn't the same cross. The gold cross was battered and bruised, as if a truck had driven over it. One bar of the cross was bent and almost broken. The metal looked distressed. But it was still in one piece.

David looked at that cross a long time. He saw it had been through a lot. And mysteriously it had come back to him. David has no idea who found it or how anyone knew it belonged to him.

But David put the necklace on again. Now he wears it every day. It's a little bent and a little broken, but it means even more to him than it did before.

This is how we know God loves us. After arguments, after conflicts, after the worst fights of our lives, God comes back to us and invites us to the dance of reconciliation.

"Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. Let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely." - Song of Solomon 2:10-14

Worship Buddy

A woman I'll call Susan sent me an email last week, asking if we could arrange to baptize her son. Since I had not met Susan before, I invited her to come and meet with me at church so we could get acquainted.

"I was baptized in another church when I was a baby," Susan explained, "but I haven't really been to worship since then." She is now about 30 years old, with a 2-year-old son and another baby due this fall. "I feel that now it's time for me to learn about the faith, and to introduce my children to the church."

I was happy to tell Susan about First United. I invited her to worship with us and to bring her children to Sunday School. She looked a bit hesitant, then said, "How will I know what to do?" I realized then that worship is a whole new ballgame for Susan. She isn't sure what to expect and doesn't want to feel out of place in the sanctuary.

"How about if we find a worship buddy for you?" I asked. "We'll ask a member who has been here for awhile to sit with you in worship and explain what we do. Does that sound good?" Susan nodded and smiled, looking more relaxed.

It's easy to assume that everyone knows how to "do church." What a privilege to introduce someone to worship for the first time! If you see a newcomer in the pews who looks a bit bewildered, I hope you'll offer to be a worship buddy.

God bless you, Susan! We're glad you found us.

Good News

It's been a trying week, since the Monday morning storm. Lots of our members are still without power, plus our internet service is not working at the church. Traffic has been slow,because some major stoplights are still not repaired. Frustrations at every turn!

So I was grateful to hear this story of good news from our Walk-In Ministry downstairs.

A man and a woman came in on Tuesday. They are homeless and were looking for help. Our Walk-In Ministry staff knew them from previous visits to the food pantry. The woman seemed more quiet and reserved than usual. When the man left to go outside, the woman turned to our Walk-In Ministry staff and showed her that her arm had recently been broken. The woman confessed that her male partner had gotten angry and beat her up, leading to the injury. "Is there a shelter where I could go?" she asked.

Our staff got on the phone to Sarah's Inn, a domestic violence shelter here in Oak Park. They were full. They made calls to all the other surrounding community shelters. No room there either. Relentlessly, they tried Sarah's Inn again. This time, they agreed to find room. Our volunteer drove the woman to a safe place.

God's work. Good work. Good news. Shelter from the storm, indeed. Thanks be to God, for the charity and justice that happens here every day.

Seeds

I'm starting a three-part series on Jesus' parables this Sunday, beginning with Matthew 13:1-9, about the man who went out to sow seeds. Some fell on the path, some fell on shallow soil, some fell on rocks and some fell on good soil and yielded 30, 60 or a hundredfold.

This is how I plant seeds.
I find the best soil.
Break it open, hinging slabs up and over,
Shovel deep, slicing to dampness.
Folds of dirt heave open to light of day.
Unearth what is dead. Haul away rocks.
Yank weeds, light a fire, burn the chaff.
Till the soil till it lies like sand, soft and ready.

Plow a row, then another, again,
Each separated by six inches,
Furrows like comb tracks parting the earth.
Plant the seeds now, one by one, three inches down.
Cover them. Tamp the soil. Not too hard.
Add bursts of rain, sunshine, night breezes, morning dew.

Then I build a fence to protect the seeds.
Put up a scarecrow.
Hang pie tins to scare the birds.
Fertilize the dirt.
Weed it.
Mulch it.
Treat it.
Spray it.
Irrigate it.
Worry over it.
Then I wait for the harvest, never satisfied with my yield,
Afraid that I chose the wrong field for planting,
not too sure about those seeds.

Meanwhile, the sower goes out to sow.
With open hand, he flings the seed ---
Dancing over the path,
Skidding down the hills,
Stumbling into the rocks,
Head thrown back, laughing
As birds swoop down to catch what he throws,
As seeds bounce across boulders,
Skip into the weeds,
Skitter under stones.
The sower keeps sowing, plowing after he scatters,
Knowing that a few seeds will find good soil
And God’s realm will grow thirty, sixty, a hundredfold.
He can just imagine the abundance:
There will be enough to feed a village for a year;
Enough to let him retire to a villa on the Mediterranean.
But even then, the sower will never stop sowing.
Because he trusts the seed,
Loves it, truly.
He knows none of those seeds, no matter where they land,
is ever wasted.

Oh yes, this is the word of God.

Hope Abounds

Now that we're back in the USA after our travels in Palestine and Israel, I am frequently asked, "How was it?"

It was painful to see the separation between Israelis and Palestinians and to witness the oppression of the Palestinian people.

It was sad to witness the security measures at every turn, even at the Dome of the Rock and Al Aqsa Mosque, the Muslim holy sites in the Old City of Jerusalem.

It was inspiring to see the efforts of grassroots Palestinian leaders to bring hope out of despair in refugee camps, in the Golan Heights, in the harassed city of Hebron, and in the Palestinian National Authority headquarters in Ramallah.

It was unforgettable to walk where Jesus walked, to sail in a boat on the Sea of Galilee, and then to be invited to baptize Laura Shawn Pinnsonault in those same waters. Laura was one of our group members who decided to begin her new life in Christ at age 31.

It was joyful to dance with strangers who invited us to join their Palestinian Christian wedding reception in a hotel courtyard in Nazareth.

It was beautiful to be accompanied on the journey by my 20-year-old daughter Rachel, by wonderful church members, and by new friends we made along the way.

Hope abounds! Palestine and Israel live in the midst of brokenness, yet faith, hope and love will never die . . . in fact, these are the powers that carry us forward into God's new future. I give thanks that the wind and fire of the Holy Spirit push us in the paths of justice.

News from Nazareth

Our Mideast travels have taken us from Bethlehem to Haifa to Nazareth in the last two days, and we had two experiences that help us identify with the experience of Palestinians here. Our bus driver Hassem is Muslim and our tour guide Ibrahim is Greek Orthodox, and both are Palestinian. We drove through a security checkpoint on the way to Taybeh, and the young Israeli soldier randomly told us that we were not allowed to use the road that would take us there directly. We had to take a lengthy detour on a much smaller road, which made us 45 minutes late. Yesterday, we went through a checkpoint as we left the West Bank and entered Israel, and an Israeli officer walked through the bus with a surly look and examined each of our passports.

Palestinians have to get used to these delays and harassment techniques, and we got a little taste of how that feels. We have also heard stories from our tour leaders and local residents that remind us for some Palestinians, the Occupation of their land makes them feel they are living in an open-air prison.

Fortunately, there are light moments. We enjoyed meeting with a Bahai leader and seeing the gorgeous gardens of the only Bahai temple in the Mideast. We talked with a Sufi Muslim Sheikh in Nazareth, and as he was singing one of his traditional songs, the church bells from the beautiful Church of the Annunciation nearby began to play. We stayed in a hostel overlooking the city of Nazareth last night and in the courtyard there was a lovely wedding reception going on. They invited us to join in the dancing, and along with mostly Palestinian/Israeli songs, we also danced to Elvis Presley and "YMCA." It really is a small world.

Today we drive to the Golan Heights to meet with a Druze religious leader and then will go back to Tel Aviv. This is a rich religious and cultural journey, and each night we spend time reflecting on how we can act on what we have witnessed when we come back home next Monday.

Peace, Shalom, Salaam.

Not So Little Town of Bethlehem

We arrived in Bethlehem yesterday, to discover that it is no longer a little town. Bethlehem is now a Palestinian community, which is about one percent Christian and 99 percent Muslim. We are learning about the realities of life in the Holy Land today, and there are disappointments and surprises at every turn.

What we have learned in the last two days is that there are two separate classes of people in the West Bank of Palestine: there are Jewish residents and settlers and there are Palestinian Christians and Muslims. They live in two different realities, two different worlds, even though they are side by side.

Yesterday, we visited a Palestinian refugee camp inhabited by families who have been displaced from their homes since 1948. That was the year the Jewish homeland was created, and hundreds of families have been waiting more than 50 years to reclaim their homes and properties. In the meantime, one group has organized a theatre and arts group for families who are stranded in these camps.

Today, we met with a Jewish settler who came here from Chicago in 1982. He and his wife were motivated by the desire to be among their own people, following what they understand to be the religious imperative to live in Palestine/Israel. Since the first and second Intifadas in the 1990s, he no longer has any relationships with Palestinians and feels it is dangerous to travel into Palestinian territories -- fearing terrorist attack.

Later, we visited the town of Hebron, which is where Abraham bought land and where King David located a military camp. It has been an Arab Palestinian city for thousands of years. However, we saw four Jewish settlements in the city of Hebron and there is an active Israeli military force that patrols the souks (street vendors) and intimidates the Palestinian residents. A Christian Peacemaker Team is located here, and one of their primary missions is to escort schoolchildren safely to their classes. The tension between Zionists and Palestinians is very deep. As an example, we visited the mosque in Hebron and had to pass through three different security systems simply to tour this holy place.
Fortunately, some Hebronites are organizing to rehabilitate the city and restore the vitality of the shopping areas.

For a place where there are so many glorious houses of worship and where there is so much religious history, it is painful to see the daily conflict and division that exists here. But it is also important that we bear witness to the these issues, so that we can be advocates for the peace of Christ, the justice of God and the power of the Holy Spirit. As one theology professor said to us, "Do not forget us when you return to your home. We need your support. We need your prayers. We need you to speak for us." A' salaam aleikum, (Arabic for "peace be among you.")

A world of walls

Walls are everywhere in this holy city. A few of us started our day jogging around the walls of the Old City of Jerusalem as the sun rose over the Mount of Olives. Within these ancient stones are some of the holiest sites of Judaism, Christianity and Islam: the Western wall, the Via Dolorosa (Jesus' walk to the cross), and the Dome of the Rock and Al Aqsa, two Muslim mosques.

But there are other walls, built more recently. Yesterday we met with a Muslim professor, a priest in the Melkite Catholic Church and a leader of the Sabeel ecumenical liberation theology center. Each of them told us about walls that restrain our Palestinian neighbors from leading a normal life. They are not allowed to swim in the Dead Sea, as we did so easily on Friday. They are not allowed to travel freely on roads or to enter certain areas. They are not provided basic civic services, such as reliable water and electricity, schools and parks. . . though they do pay taxes.

Today we saw with our own eyes the wall that separates Palestinian communities from Jewish communities -- a wall that is longer and higher than the Berlin Wall, and it is still being built. As the wall twists and turns, it separates family members and makes it very difficult for Palestinians to travel to jobs and schools.

I wept as I prayed at the Garden of Gethsemane, and again at the Wailing Wall. I wept to think of the sufferings of Jesus, and I was deeply disturbed to see that Jerusalem continues to be a place of injustice and division. Each day we seek to learn ways that we can be instruments of peace and justice, building bridges in a world of walls.

Post from Palestine

Our trip to Palestine and Israel took off from Chicago on Tuesday, but we didn't make it to Jerusalem until Thursday because of a volcanic ash cloud from Somalia. After a 24-hour detour to Amsterdam, we arrived here at the Jerusalem Hotel in the West Bank. We are just a few steps away from the Garden Tomb, which was our first stop. This may be the place where Jesus was crucified and buried, and it was amazing to stand inside a rock tomb to feel what it was like for the first disciples to find an empty tomb on Easter morning.

We stopped by the American Colony Hotel, founded by Horatio and Anna Spafford of Chicago as a Christian mission in Jerusalem. I mentioned Horatio in a sermon last fall, and he was the writer of the hymn "It Is Well With My Soul." We also walked to the Damascus Gate, an ancient site that is now the home of a hundred food stalls, clothing shops and cell phone stores.

Today we visited Masada, the site of King Herod's fortress a few decades before the birth of Christ. It looks out over the Dead Sea and Jordan, and it was later the encampment for a group of Jewish rebels who were fighting against Roman oppression. Over the centuries, it was home to a huge public bath, a synagogue, and later a Byzantine Christian church. Today it stands as a monument to Zionism -- inspiring Jewish militants to stand strong in their cause.

On the way home, we swam in the Dead Sea -- where everyone floats due to the very high salt content. Then we spent time in Jericho to see a 900-year-old sycamore tree (like the one Zacchaeus climbed) and a store run by Palestinian and Bedouin natives. We heard a great talk at dinner from Jeff Halper, who works with the Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions. A great analysis of the seemingly intractable problems in this small but significant part of the world.

Pentecost

This Sunday is Pentecost, which comes 50 days after Passover, and is a time when Jewish believers gather in worship. Fifty days after Christ's resurrection, his followers were praying together in the temple when the Holy Spirit arrived as a violent wind, a fire that did not consume, and the gift of tongues. People from many nations were speaking together, and each of them could understand as if they were hearing their native language. In this moment, the church was formed. I wrote this poem to visualize what that first Pentecost might have been like.

Pentecost

They pray in silence
Hard floor of the temple punishing broken-down knees
Ready any moment to rise and leave
Weary of this endless waiting
For a sign.
Anything.
Speak, Lord.
For Christ’s sake
Give us just a shred to go on.

Strangers together
Having traveled through lean days
Meager bread, stale wine, not enough water
To withstand roads without shade
(Except for the shadows of a hundred crosses
Placed to intimidate,
Petty criminals cowering
Shoulders bowed
Weeping jagged through choked breath.
Jesus had been one of them
just 50 days ago.)
Journeying to this thin place, to find what?
The Lord a disappearing act,
risen, gone from their sight.
They are alone again, terrible company to each other,
Unable to speak a common language
Yet clinging to this promise:
an Advocate will come.
One who will speak a Word or two
of mercy
to the Lord
on our behalf.
Oh, that might be worth the trip.

The old man topples first,
Wind like cannon bursts from the doorway
Huddled bodies plant noses to floor, arms crossed overhead
Feet reaching for something that does not move
Ears covered to shield from piercing shriek of sound
Cloaks whipped around thighs, sandals snapped away,
believers stumbling blind, eyes covered.
God’s breath violent
Shuddering
Waking the dead, clearing the room.
Candles clatter, water jars burst.
Animals dive for shelter, spared from the blade and the altar.

Suddenly air stops. Quiet descends.

Fear freezes trembling faces, eyes wide open, insecure,
Then fire licks, small tastes of hair, beard, flesh.
Flame knocks down every pin, flashing bright.
One rolls to the floor, flapping out fire: “Get away!”
Another watches fiery tongues leap, blinking, unable to comprehend
The Spirit’s power.
Light comes and grows.

The boy hears it then. The voice of his father, long since buried.
The sound of familiar words, language of home, yet no one here could know those words.
Tongue-tied mouths loosen, lips begin a slow cascade of speech
That spills and flows, flooding over barriers that stood for generations.
To know and be known;
Each hearing in the language of each,
Words land as sacred melody opening tone-deaf ears.

To hear our stories, each of us understanding
that honest truth
will be told in many ways.
Together, we rise,
knowing
all people stand
in the presence of the Holy.

Psalm after Yoga

Since Easter, I've tried writing a poem each week. This one was inspired by my study of the psalms during Lent, and came to me after a truly wonderful yoga class.

Holy One,
Your arms encircle me from behind
I abide with you, leaning back,
Resting in your steadfast love and faithfulness.

Ground of being,
At heart level
Your left hand plucks a string
Stretched tight along my length.
Your right hand drags the bow
You play me
Every string reverberating
Across soft, wide hips moving slowly to birth notes.

Bones reaching for sinew, shape,
To be wrapped in rumbling scrape
Sound resonates,
Emerges from lungs, blood, muscle, lips, navel
Center of all you have made me, responding to your touch.
Air alive with notes that ricochet
across vibrating cells.

My body learns peace
that follows pain,
Belonging
after breaking,
Wholeness
that satisfies desire.
Trust
that replaces anxiety.

With you I create music
I am your instrument.
The song is blessing.
I sing with the breath of joy
So real I can taste it.

Tapas Church

So it seems we all live in a crazy-busy world. How does the church adapt? How do we nurture people spiritually and challenge them to do the work of love and justice, when they can't find the time to get to church?

Julie O'Shea, our financial manager, was describing this problem at our staff meeting this week. As a wife and mother of three children, she feels like she's on a treadmill sometimes. She said, "How can we get church in small bites?"

Yes, I thought, what we need is Tapas Church. Instead of expecting that everyone has the time to devour a big hunk of roast beef, maybe we should find ways to do church in small plates . . . a little at a time. Maybe church needs to be held during play dates at people's homes, in small gatherings to discuss a book, or in short prayer services.

We'll be thinking about these options over the summer. If you have some ideas to share with staff or the Church Council, let us know. We're ready to live as a Tapas Church, and I know the Holy Spirit is in the kitchen, showing us the way to get cooking.

A Vision of Justice

In the biblical worldview, the righteous (tzaddiq) are willing to disadvantage themselves to advantage the community. The wicked, in contrast, are willing to disadvantage the community to advantage themselves. (see Bruce Waltke "The Book of Proverbs")

I find that a helpful way to understand justice. If we follow Jesus, we are willing to disadvantage ourselves for the sake of the common good. Here is a true story that describes what this kind of justice looks like in the community of Martha's Vineyard.

Martha's Vineyard is an island off the coast of Massachusetts. It's known as an elite enclave for celebrities and wealthy politicians looking for private retreat. It was first settled by immigrants from Kent, England in the 17th century, and those pilgrims happened to have a high incidence of hereditary deafness.

Because the island was isolate for many decades, there was also a great deal of intermarriage. By the 19th century, between 5 and 25 percent of residents in the Vineyard were deaf. In most cases, people with handicaps such as deafness are expected to adapt to the habits of the non-handicapped, but that is not what happened on Martha's Vineyard.

A sociologist who studied the culture there in the 1980s asked a hearing person how he felt about the non-hearing people. "We didn't think anything about them, they were just like everyone else," one older man replied. Did they write down notes to the deaf people in order to communicate, the sociologist asked? "No," said the man in surprise, "you see everyone here spoke sign language."

Those people who could not hear were not considered handicapped. They were just deaf. They were treated like everyone else, because everyone learned to speak sign language. An entire community "disadvantaged itself" for the safe of the minority. Instead of making the non-hearing minority learn to read lips, the whole hearing majority learned signing. An inspiring example of justice.

And the hearing people found knowing sign language carried other benefits! The kids could "sign" behind a teacher's back in school. Church members could "sign" to each other during the pastor's sermons. People could communicate across long distances and express their needs when they were sick or aging.

Deafness as a "handicap" largely disappeared.

That's a vision of justice, alright. God's realm come to earth. I suppose all of us could learn something from Martha's Vineyard. Tim Keller says this in his book Generous Justice. "The strong must disadvantage themselves for the weak, the majority for the minority, or the community frays and the fabric breaks."

In God's Eyes

In my daily prayers, I ask to see the world as God sees it. My own vision is so limited and self-centered, and I am often blind to the miracles of the Holy Spirit as they happen around me.
I believe that God sees each one of us as unique, beloved, precious children. In God’s eyes, we are the fruit of divine love, conceived in joy, born with hope for abundant life. As someone said to me yesterday, “God wants us all to be happy.” Yes, God does. As a mother, I know that is the primary wish that I have for my children, simply that they be happy in this world that God created and called good.
So when I watched the President’s news conference on Sunday night, announcing the killing of Osama bin Laden in Pakistan, my heart felt like a stone in my chest. In the eyes of many, this was a victory. This was revenge at last. This was justice served.
And yet when I tried to see through God’s eyes, all I could feel was stunned grief. This is hardly justice as our scripture defines it. Perhaps God alone truly sees beyond our outer selves. Perhaps God alone can see beyond the human categories of Muslim and Christian, righteous and infidel, good and evil. But I cannot imagine that the purposeful murder of any living being is a cause for rejoicing in God’s eyes. I believe the heart of God breaks to see blood spilled in anger, with intent to do harm.
I will leave it to others to decide if our world is now safer or more dangerous. I will leave it to others to determine whether the time and resources devoted to bin Laden’s capture and death were worth the cost. I will leave it to others to discern the political and military implications of this act.
In response, I will simply affirm the truth that is the foundation of my life: Jesus is Lord! My highest allegiance is to follow him: to love my enemies even if they seek to harm me; to witness for peace through nonviolence rather than retaliation; to pray for reconciliation in conflict; to affirm the divine value of each human life, no matter how much we have devalued and demonized ourselves.
From what I know about Osama bin Laden, his perception of the West was deeply skewed and profoundly hateful. In his worldview, we were a threat so ominous that he could see no hope for connection, relationship, or common understanding. In his worldview, the only option was to seek our destruction.
It saddens my spirit that in the end this became our only option toward him, as well.
Jesus taught us to see one another through God’s eyes. I pray for the strength to see my friends and my enemies with that same loving gaze, knowing there is an alternative to violence and death. The cycle will never end unless we act with courage, trusting that Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed!

Encountering Angels

God is surprising. Angels show up in places we least expect them. The tomb on Easter morning. Lake Street in Oak Park. Let me tell you about three angels I encountered during Holy Week at First United.

On Palm Sunday we wanted to play the U2 song "When Loves Comes to Town" during worship. Rob Leveridge put together a band, but on the day before the service our drummer had to back out because his mother was critically ill. Rob tried everyone he could think of to sub, but no one was available. The bass player said he could switch to drums, but we would need to find a new bass. What to do? The band members trudged into church with their instruments on Saturday morning to practice in the sanctuary. A man named Sean was waiting in line for the food pantry downstairs. He saw the guitar cases and asked, "Do you need another musician?"

"Yes, in fact we do," said Rob. Sean was the answer to our prayers. He practiced on Saturday morning and showed up to play on Sunday for worship. Love came to town, all right.

God is surprising.

On Good Friday, a group of us gathered on a cold and windy day to carry a six-foot cross through the streets . . . remembering Jesus' walk to the cross. Marilyn and Dan, two gray-haired seniors, were the first to volunteer to carry the cross three blocks to Austin Gardens. We had hardly gotten started when a man with dreadlocks and sunglasses rushed over to us. "Can I help you carry that cross?" he asked. His name was Jim, and he said he was waiting for a bus but could take some time to go with us. Fifty feet later, another man walked up to us -- Tony was his name. Angel #3 also offered to help with the cross. Dan and Marilyn were relieved of their burden, and Jim and Tony joined us all the way to Austin Gardens, where we read the story of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane.

"How does it feel to pray with others, versus praying alone?" I asked the group. Jim chimed right in. "We're never alone when we pray," he said. "God is always there."

True enough.

Proving Easter

Before I went to seminary, I spent a summer as a city reporter at the Chicago Sun-Times. In that one summer, I covered stories about the mayor, Jesse Jackson, the Pope and the police beat. That just about summarizes life in Chicago, doesn't it?

I only got on the front page twice, for feature stories. One was about the Taste of Chicago: I interviewed a woman who said her only regret was that she should have worn a bigger pair of jeans. The other was about a frog-jumping contest held at the Hyatt Hotel downtown; it was a slow news day.

In the Sun-Times newsroom, all the reporters sat on one side and the editors and fact-checkers sat on the other side, facing us. Every time we submitted a story, the editors and fact-checkers would look it over and often send it back to us with questions. "Can you verify this name and address? Did you double-check this number? Are you absolutely certain about this quote?"

Feature stories are one thing, but if you're writing a story that involves someone's reputation, that's a whole different story. Not only do you want to be accurate, you also don't want to get sued. If we couldn't prove the truth of our stories, the editors wouldn't print them.

Every Easter Sunday when I get up to preach, I feel like I'm back in the newsroom again, and all the folks in the congregation are the fact-checkers and the skeptical editors. They have every right to hear this story about Mary Magdalene going to the empty tomb and send it right back to me with plenty of questions (John 20:1-18).

Yes, I realize in John's gospel, natural laws are broken. The most fundamental biological fact of nature is that when people die, they don't come back to life.

Yes, I realize there are no actual eyewitnesses to the central event here: the moment when Jesus' body rose up from the tomb. The resurrection is one event that is strictly between Jesus and God, in all four gospels.

Yes, I realize there is only one person who saw the risen Christ in this story, and she is highly compromised as a witness. She is a woman, for one thing, and by law a woman's testimony was not trusted in first century Palestine. As a witness, Mary Magdalene is also dubious because she was formerly possessed by seven demons, which Jesus drove out of her. In addition, she was grief-stricken, which would have impaired her judgment.

Yes, I realize that this whole story takes place while it is still dark. Why should anyone believe that Mary saw the Lord, when her eyes could have been playing tricks on her? There was no video camera, and no one has found any physical evidence to this day.

The gospel proclamation of Easter will never pass journalism standards. There are too many holes in the story, which is why Easter is the occasion for great doubt among skeptics.

But the Easter gospel is also the source of our most profound faith among believers. Because this gospel was not written as a piece of journalism. It is the good news of Jesus Christ. It is a faith testimony about finding hope, even in the midst of darkness.

You can't prove hope. You can only see its results.

I seem glimpses of resurrection hope every day in the ministries of First United.

We see long lines at the food pantry, so we make it our mission to provide jobs, affordable housing, advocacy and mentoring.

We see our teens using drugs, so we plan parent meetings, share ideas, and look for opportunities for our youth to find meaning and community in other ways.

We see our gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered brothers and sisters excluded from other churches, from leadership positions, from equal rights to marry in church and society, so we commit to increased advocacy in our denominations and support for PFLAG.

We see mainline church membership dropping, so we invest ourselves in outreach, hospitality and extravagant welcome.

We see religious divisions causing conflict in our world, so we engage in a Year with Islam, getting to know our Muslim neighbors as people.

We see the effects of global warming, so we practice environmental stewardship.

We live God's vision with hope. What more proof do you need that Christ is alive?

Finding God in the Wilderness

I've been taking my daughter on college visits recently, and today we visited a nearby campus and heard a lecture by an economics professor. I was intrigued by the title, which had to do with understanding the recession. After a one-hour lecture, accompanied by charts, graphs and lots of power power slides, my daughter was asleep and I felt lost in the wilderness.

You see, at the end of his lecture, the professor said, "I don't have any good news about this."

He explained that federal monetary policy could not leverage a recovery any more than it already has. He explained that interest rates for savers are low (though we are saving more money than we did before) and interest rates for borrowers are high; meaning there is no incentive to either save or borrow. The housing market remains depressed and workers can't move to find new jobs. There is a mismatch between skills available in the labor market and skills that are needed by potential employers (too many construction workers, not enough health care workers).

The professor explained the economic stimulus package passed in 2009 was the one thing that seemed to increase employment, but its effect was only temporary. Now, the political winds have changed in the direction of spending cuts, meaning that any future stimulus spending proposals don't have a chance. His message was: Get used to it. High unemployment will be around for awhile.

Wow, I thought. I couldn't get away with that giving kind of hopeless message in the church.

Nor would I want to.

During this Lenten season, we have been walking through the wilderness, exploring the challenges of our lives through the words of the Psalms. We have not been shy about admitting that temptations and dark valleys lie before us.

But, unlike that economics professor, we have faith that God is with us. We trust that Christ walks beside us. We experience the power of the Holy Spirit, lifting us up when we need inspiration.

The church does not give up. Instead of saying, "We'll never be able to feed everyone who comes to the food pantry," we begin to explore how we can provide more jobs, affordable housing and mentoring for pantry clients. We begin to develop relationships with our legislators, so that we can advocate for justice.

Instead of bemoaning the religious conflicts in our world, we commit to A Year with Islam in our adult education ministry. We engage in regular visits and share meals with Muslim neighbors from the Islamic Foundation in Villa Park.

Instead of saying, "The problems of four million people who have been displaced in Colombia are beyond our help," we set up an exhibit about the Colombian people in our sanctuary and are signing letters and postcards to demand a new U.S. policy toward Latin America.

And so we are not left without hope. We can find God at work -- even in the wilderness -- even in the recession -- even in the conflicts and pain of the world. Because on Palm Sunday, God's love comes to town. And that changes everything.

What lasts forever?

There they are, escaping from the clutches of Pharaoh after decades of oppression. What a fantastic feeling, to be free at last! But the band of newly liberated Israelites encounters a big obstacle in their path to freedom: the Red Sea. The Egyptian chariots are hard on their heels, breathing down their necks, and if they have to skirt the edges of the Red Sea the bad guys will surely catch up with them and haul them back to captivity.
So Moses holds up his staff and stretches his hand over the waters and God divides the Red Sea, and leads the Israelites across the middle on dry land. It is a miracle. Even better, when the Egyptian soldiers try to follow the escaping slaves, the waters close over them and they are drowned. The Israelites are blown away and say, “The Lord will be my God forever.” You can read this amazing adventure story in Exodus 14. Share it with your children and grandchildren.
But if you keep reading Exodus, you discover a few days later the Israelites have already started complaining to Moses. They are hungry and would rather go back to the land of Egypt – where at least they had enough bread. Rabbi Harold Kushner says, “What we learn is that the word ‘forever’ is a technical term meaning 48 hours. Somebody promises to be grateful forever. You can hold them to it for 48 hours and after that it is a lost cause.”
Yesterday’s miracle is not always enough to nourish us today. So instead of one spectacular miracle, God changes tactics. God provides manna one day at a time. Food is spread on the ground outside their tents overnight, and in the morning they go out, gather it up, and bring it in. They feed their families. God provides daily sustenance, only enough for one day at a time.
No miracle lasts forever. The miracle is that God gives us this day our daily bread. And that is enough. We are not capable of feeling grateful forever. But we can be thankful for the blessings we receive one day at a time. Poet Thomas Chisholm said it well in this hymn:
Great is your faithfulness! Great is your faithfulness! Morning by morning, new mercies I see. All I have needed your hand has provided. Great is your faithfulness, God, unto me.
Trust that God will give you what you need . . . in this day.
In Christian love, Julie R. Harley

A Garden of Forgiveness

As we mark the 8th anniversary of the U.S. War in Iraq, we will gather on the Lake Street steps of the church tonight to pray for peace. Tomorrow, a group of us will head downtown to March for An End to All Wars, with people from more than 50 peace and justice groups in the Chicago area.

This is the litany of forgiveness we will share tonight. May the Prince of Peace guide our path.

Teach us to plant a garden of forgiveness, by planting seeds of forgiveness.
We ask that you would forgive us . . .
For our own acts of violence
For times when we did not speak up or speak out against war
For our complicity in paying taxes that support war
For turning away from news about destruction we have caused
Give us power to pray for peace and act for peace.
God, forgive our nation’s leaders . . .
Our own nation was born in war, and we are always at war.
Forgive our presidents, cabinet members, senators and members of congress who have fed the war machine.
Forgive our government and military leaders who have sanctioned the use of torture.
Forgive us for exporting violence and militarism to other countries.
Forgive us for spending billions of dollars on weapons of mass destruction.
Forgive us for cooperating with corrupt leaders.
Forgive us for supporting military dictatorships that oppress the poor.
Forgive us for sending troops to die for the sake of oil.
Give us power to pray for peace and act for peace.
God, forgive those who have carried out terrorist acts . . .
Plant forgiveness and compassion in the hearts of those who are training to be suicide bombers
Forgive those who have killed civilians and innocent men, women and children
Forgive those who are terrorized themselves by post-traumatic stress disorder
Forgive the thousands of veterans who experience mental illness and homelessness
Give us power to pray for peace and act for peace.
We pray for an end to all wars . . .
For an end to violence in Iraq
For an end to the war in Afghanistan
For an end to the violence in Bahrain and Libya
Forgive us for believing that war is the answer.
We give thanks for peaceful revolutions in Tunisia and Egypt.
We pray that more and more countries and peoples would find peaceful ways to resolve conflict and peaceful ways to bring dignity and justice to all of God’s people.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Christ, have mercy upon us.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
(time for silent prayer)
Give us power to pray for peace and act for peace.
Teach us to plant gardens of forgiveness. Amen.

Living God's Vision in Lent

Live the values of God's vision in the next 46 days. How, you may ask?

Moving from words to witness: Look for the lavender flyer “The Gifts We Bring,” fill it out and return it to church by Mar. 20. It's posted on our website: www.firstunitedoakpark.com. How is God calling you to share your skills and experiences to build Christ’s mission at First United and in the world?
Moving from individualism to intimate fellowship: Join a Lenten book study. Five groups will read and discuss “An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith” by Barbara Brown Taylor. The book is available on Amazon and in many bookstores, including The Book Table on Lake Street in Oak Park. Choose the group that is best for you.
1. Sunday at 9:30 am in the church lounge – led by Susan Buchanan – beginning Mar. 13 through Apr. 17
2. Sundays at 7:00 pm at the home of Lola and Nathan Wright, 636 Gunderson Avenue, Oak Park – beginning Mar. 13 through Apr. 17
3. Wednesdays at 11:00 am in the church conference room – led by our pastors – beginning Mar. 16 through Apr. 20
4. Wednesdays at 7:00 pm at the home of Bob and Janet Haisman, 632 South Grove Avenue, Oak Park – beginning Mar. 16 through Apr. 20
5. Thursdays at 7:30 pm at the home of Steve and Beth Mrkvicka, 329 South Taylor Avenue, Oak Park – beginning Mar. 17 through Apr. 21.
To sign up for one of these book discussion groups, see the bulletin board in the church lounge or contact Pastor Rob Leveridge at rleveridge@firstunitedoakpark.com.
Moving from charity to changing structures of injustice: The U.S. war in Iraq began eight years ago. Billions of dollars in military spending have drained resources essential for other human needs. Stand for peace on the Lake Street steps of the church at 7:00 pm on Friday, Mar. 18, as part of our weekly peace vigil. Join a group from First United who will march for an end to all wars at noon on Saturday, Mar. 19, at Congress and Michigan Avenue in Chicago. For more information, email Ruth Babcock at jlbabck@sbcglobal.net.

Our daily bread

I usually go grocery shopping on Mondays, my day off. When I went to the local Jewel a few weeks ago, I found myself surrounded by hundreds of shoppers, standing in long lines -- quite strange for a normally quiet Monday. It turns out everyone was stocking up before the much-anticipated blizzard that arrived the next day. When we are fearful, we store up food that will last. It helps us feel secure.

When the Hebrews escaped from bondage in Egypt, God fed them with manna. Each morning, there would be enough of this manna to sustain them for the day. But if they tried to store it -- even overnight -- it would rot and grow worms. Why didn't God give them a Costco-sized portion, to ease their worries?

Because God wanted them to know their safety, their security and their trust cannot be based on earthly things. The daily manna allowed them to turn their trust to God each day. This miraculous food was more than food; it was an opportunity for them to trust in their relationship with God, to sink deep into their souls and know that even in the desert, they would have enough for this one day.

Jesus emphasizes the same kind of trusting relationship, when he teaches us to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread.We live each day by leaning on the unfailing kindness and grace of God, who provides for all our needs . . . one day at a time.

Many of the world's spiritual traditions affirm this truth: All we can ever have is what we are given in this day.

The Koran says: Those who you serve besides God cannot give you your daily bread. Therefore seek your daily bread from God, and worship Him.

In the Buddhist tradition, monks arise each morning, take their robe and begging bowl, and set out to beg from neighbors for their daily bread.

In the Hindu tradition, believers put their faith in God's providence. One follower states: "We should rest assured that God will give us every day our daily bread, meaning everything that we require."

Give thanks that we have enough for each day. Let go of whatever fears you carry. Allow your soul to soften, to be open to the ridiculous possibility that God will provide whatever you need . . . even our daily bread.

Liberation in Egypt

A peoples’ revolution arising in Egypt has drawn the world’s attention in the last three weeks. It is not the first nonviolent uprising to take place in the cradle of civilization.
We remember that God led Moses and his people on an exodus out of slavery in the land of Egypt. Their path of escape from Pharaoh’s bondage was marked by a pillar of cloud by day and the light of a pillar of fire by night.
We remember that wise men traveled through the deserts of this region for two years, to find the Christ child and lay their gifts at his feet. They were guided by the light of a star shining in the east.
We remember after they visited Jesus, the magi returned to their home by another way, warned in a dream that King Herod wished to extinguish the light of this newborn Messiah. They engaged in a courageous act of nonviolent civil disobedience, refusing to collaborate with the powers of the Empire.
We remember that in the third century after Christ’s birth, the monastic movement was emerging on this same Egyptian desert.
One of the early monks had a dream. He saw a large group traveling in the desert at night without a road. In the distance they could see a light they were traveling toward, but they could not see how to reach it.
However, these people believed there were persons in front of them who were able to see the light and how to reach it, and so they had each placed their hands on the shoulder of the person ahead of them, in an unbroken line reaching to the front.
So long as they stayed connected in this way, they were safe.
But a few persons thought this procedure was too limiting. And so they announced they knew a better way to reach the light and promised that if others followed them they would reach the light more quickly and more easily. And so small groups would break off and follow these persons.
But soon these small groups found they were hopelessly lost, wandering around in circles in the desert. And then these small groups would in turn split up into even smaller groups, each disagreeing with the others and each seeking to find the light on its own.
The monks were guided by this dream and decided that their path of rigorous spirituality should never be separated from the wider church.
We gather in worship today as part of a revolutionary movement that is led by a single light: Christ, the light of the world.
We see Christ’s light in stars, in fire, in the face of a toddler . . . the one who was the Word that became flesh and dwelt among us. When Christ was born, God moved into our neighborhood.
The church is not an institution, it’s a movement. Sometimes it’s even a revolution. May we stay together, moving into God’s future, seeking to walk in the light of Christ.
And when we cannot see the light ourselves, let us put our hands on the shoulders of someone else, and simply follow. . . . in an unbroken line stretching to the source of all light.
The stories of scripture light our way to the future.
God’s Word is a lamp to our feet and a light to our path. May the revolution continue. Amen.

Warming Up Our Welcome

What makes us Christian? We could name off a hundred qualities. In yesterday's Bible study, we learned there are three key practices:

1. Hospitality
2. Generosity
3. Not taking vengeance

An odd list, isn't it? Why is hospitality such a big deal in Christian life? Perhaps because sharing a meal with strangers is the closest we will ever get to experiencing the realm of God on earth.

Hospitality has been on my mind a lot lately. Pastor Rob Leveridge and the new member committee track our worship visitors, and in the last few months we have had about 200 people join us as first-time guests. Pastor Leah Fowler and the adult education committee have sponsored several visits here and in Villa Park with Muslim neighbors from the Islamic Foundation. Our Annual Meeting in January was on the theme of welcoming newcomers. Our February new members class has 23 people in it -- much larger than average.

What keeps people coming back? Here is a testimony from one person:

I have been going to church all my life. I was baptized a Baptist and I have been to other denominations as well. Lately they all seem to be preaching prosperity only. When my nephew died we came to you all asking for a large place to have his funeral. I never experienced so much compassion from strangers before.

It was the week following his funeral that we attended regular service and found that you all were preaching love for all people, feeding the hungry and finding housing for people. I felt so much love in this church. I have a different view of what religion is.

Baby, it's cold outside. But with hospitality like ours, it's warm on the inside.

I'll be back next week to talk about generosity, and in two weeks we'll cover forgiveness. Grace and peace. Show compassion to a stranger this week.

Snow and Frost, Stormy Wind

I laugh every year at the lectionary -- the assigned scripture texts for each Sunday -- because when we get to late December, we always read Psalm 148:

Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise him in the heights!
Praise the Lord from the earth, you sea monsters and all deeps, fire and hail, snow and frost, stormy wind fulfilling his command!

So yesterday we got our snow and frost, and a few stormy winds too. I have learned not to trust weather forecasts, but this one was spot on. Now all of us are sitting at home, unable to go anywhere or do anything.

Mother Nature is pretty powerful. God reminds us that we are not in control. It's a strange feeling, isn't it, not being able to go anywhere and do anything we want? We're not used to just being.

Our church is closed today, but the good news is that we're open as a warming center for people who have nowhere else to go. A church member sent me an email offering to make sweetbreads and brownies and bring them over to the PADS folks in our church basement. The food pantry will do everything they can to be open tonight.

This is the church, being the church. Life is good. Give thanks.

Young men and women alike, old and young together!
Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone is exalted.
Praise for all his faithful, for the people of Israsel who are close to him.
Praise the Lord!

An Extremist for Love, Truth and Goodness

One hundred and fifty people who looked like the kingdom of God gathered in our sanctuary on Martin Luther King's birthday. Most of us were African-American, a good number were white, several were Asian and many were Latino. We were there to continue the work of justice that began with Jesus Christ and has been carried forward by countless saints throughout the centuries.

Dr. King focused American Christians on racial and economic justice, as well as the need for peace. On Monday, all of us were empowered to work for justice for people of color who receive substandard care in nursing homes; to work for justice for thousands of children whose parents are serving jail terms; to work for justice for young men who are African-American who are suspended and expelled at two or three times the rate of white teens in Chicago public schools.

It is hard for many of us middle class, white, moderate Christians to embrace the work of justice, because it leads to conflict, tension, political advocacy, and hard work. Justice is not achieved easily and it is not achieved quickly. But it can be achieved, when we look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.

I was inspired this week to read one of Dr. King's most impassioned writings: "The Letter from a Birmingham Jail." Dr. King describes Jesus as "an extremist for love, truth and goodness, who rose above his environment." We have enough examples in our world of extremists for injustice. Dr. King calls those of us who are white moderates to engage in "creative extremism." He calls us to rise above our comfortable circumstances and use our power to lift up those who are marginalized.

How can we do work that is so challenging, so spiritually demanding? We can do it because in our baptism we are revealed as children of God, filled with the Holy Spirit. In this season of Epiphany, we recall that our baptism reveals us as children of the Light. Because we have received baptism in the Spirit, we are empowered to bring others into the Light. We can do this work because we are not alone; we join with other people of faith, and we are led by the example of Jesus Christ.

Our work of justice continues around the year, not just on Dr. King's Birthday. The Faith in Action Committee has organized issue teams around economic sustainability, education and mentoring, affordable housing and advocacy. I look forward to the day when most of our members will be part of one of these justice-seeking teams, because Dr. King was right when he said, Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.

Read Dr. King's "Letter from a Birmingham Jail." Become part of the movement to bring God's kingdom to earth, for we are marching in the light of God.

Humbled by an Epiphany

There are many ways to be humbled.

There’s the humility you feel when you do something ditzy. It’s rather painful. You want to rewind the tape and do it over again.

There’s the humility you feel when you realize your limitations. Also painful, it happens to me in boot camp classes at the gym. Some ab exercises will always be out of my reach.

There’s the humility you feel when you fail at something that matters to you, especially when you were trying your best to succeed.

And then there’s the humility you feel when you witness something truly great, and it inspires you to keep aiming for greatness. It makes you believe greatness is within your grasp. It amazes you to realize that greatness is something that still exists in this world.

That kind of humility is an epiphany.

That is the humility the wise men felt when they met a toddler named Jesus. This humble two-year-old king -- living in a house in Bethlehem rather than a palace in Jerusalem -- had the power to humble them, and they knelt to pay him homage.

These days we call that worship.

It can happen to us in the strangest places.

It happens when we kneel down and let go of our treasure. We realize we have found something even more precious.