Reassuring Signs - and the threat within.

          I have shared with many of you my "Lean on me" story.  But for those of you not familiar with the story: When we were truly in our darkest time, when I wasn't sure how we would get through the next hours, let alone the next days or months, I had to drive to the hospital to visit someone I loved who was dying, was at the very end.  I turned on the radio for the first time in many months.  The song that immediately began playing was "Lean on me" - a song I've always heard as being an invitation from God to let go, to trust, to live in the love of a supportive, caring "other" that is beyond and above and among us.  I was happy to hear the song, but didn't think too much about it until, on coming out of my visiting time and again turning on the radio, the song was playing a second time.  At that point, I had a conversation with God that went something like this, "Okay, I hear the message here.  At the same time, I tend to think that twice is just a coincidence and that if you are really there trying to communicate with me, there will be a third time."  I drove home and was walking into my house when the telephone rang.  On answering it, I discovered it was one of my parishioners, a man who was in charge of picking the movies for our faith and film nights at church.  He had called to tell me that even though we had scheduled a particular movie for the next evening, he felt this strong sense that he should show a different movie this week.  "What movie are you wanting to show instead?"  I asked.  "Lean on me," he said.  Okaaay…  That night I had choir practice and as I drove to church the song "Lean on me" played yet one more time on the radio.
            Ever since that terrible time, there have been other challenging times in my life.  And very often when I am in those times, the song "Lean on me" will show up at exactly the right moment, reminding me to let go, to trust, to feel the presence and love and care of God surrounding me.
           All of that is wonderful, and awesome and good.  But there is another piece of this with which I'm struggling.  Whenever that song comes on the radio now, or the phrase or movie or anything connected with "Lean on me" pops up in my life in some way, I now feel a sense of fear.  "Why are You reminding me of this?  Am I going to need particular care right now?  Is something terrible about to happen that you want me centered and grounded in You, in my faith, at this moment?" And I have found myself left with the very weird realization that sometimes these words of comfort and care feel more like threats than reassurances.  
        I'm trying to hold on to the memories that usually the song's appearance has come as a needed reassurance during a difficult time, not as a pre-curser to a difficult time.  But this is not completely true.  Things did get worse for us during the week I spoke about above, and I can't forget that.  The person I loved did die that week, for example.
        This is one example, but there are other cases in which words of reassurance and signs of care are more a burden than a gift.  The phrase, "This, too, shall pass," is a wonderful reassurance when things are going badly.  But what about when things are going well?  That, too, will pass.  The words of comfort are also words that create fear.  Nothing lasts: the good and the bad will all pass away.
        We walk a life that is full of ups and downs.  And much of how we hear and experience what comes our way is dependent on our mind-set, our perspective, our approach to life as a whole.  We all know the dualistic idea that one is either an optimist who sees the glass half full or a pessimist of seeing the glass half empty.  I don't actually see myself in either of those categories.  I love the solution that sees the glass as half available for something better (alcohol for some, chocolate for me).  But while I love that solution, it doesn't mean that I can always live in that place.  A long-view perspective sees the complexity in the glass: it is both a glass that is half full and half empty, it has room for more, AND when something else is added into a glass already half full of water, that which is added will be necessarily watered down: in other words, it will still be a mixture of the good and bad, of what we would want, and what we are handed, a mixture of our own control and the worlds' influences, a combination of what is good and what is ordinary or even distasteful when mixed with something else.  Part of maturing and growing older is being able to see it all: all the nuances, all the angles, all the wisdom of a life that is both beautiful and challenging, dreadful and wondrous, that is full of many colors, not just black and white, nor shades of grey.
        I cannot be in a place of seeing life as an either/or.  I can no longer hear even words of comfort as 100% positive, life-affirming support.  That depth of vision is a gift, but not always a comfortable one.
        In terms of our faith, I celebrate that a God of love and grace and wonder is there, always.  But the other side of that coin is we are then called into action, to live out our faith with courage and love for others.  That, too, is both a blessing and a challenge.  There are times I would choose, if I could, to return to a more child-like view of the world and all that is in it as being either good or bad.  There are times I would choose a dualism that simplifies everything.  But I can't.  And so I am working to embrace this reality of gifts that are challenging; comfort that encourages growth, movement and change; and an overabundance of love that calls us into an action of risking everything to love "the least of these".  One day at a time.

Lenten experiment with plastic

         For lent this year our family decided to give up plastic, especially one-use plastic since it has become such a huge problem for our oceans and our environment.  I made this decision because I kept wondering how the Lenten disciplines of doing something that increases only personal devotion really touches all of those we are called to love equally with ourselves.  I felt that we needed instead to do something good for the world, no matter how small.  While this was the impetus, as with almost everything we do for others, I have found that I have been the one to gain the most through the learning, alone, that has come from this Lenten experiment.
         We are only half way through lent at this point, and yet the challenge of trying to extricate ourselves from plastic use has been almost impossible.  What I have learned is that plastic is all around us, in almost everything.  As a result, this one simple choice to try to avoid plastic has in fact been the hardest spiritual discipline I've yet tried.
        Beginning with food:  We found that much of the prepackaged food we are used to eating was completely off the list for lent.  I'll separate this out by food groups:
        Carbohydrates: Cereal, while boxed in cardboard, always has a plastic lining between the carboard and the cereal itself.  The exception was oatmeal, but even that came with a plastic lid. Friends suggested the bulk bins.  Two problems for us: the first was that the bags by the bulk bins were, again, plastic. We could bring in our own paper bags, though this was not appreciated by the grocery check out people.  The second was that the cereal selection was mostly limited to granola or mussily, neither of which are appealing to my kids.  Crackers, likewise, all came with plastic somewhere in the packaging.  The one exception we found to this was Goldfish crackers, which have become a bit of a staple for the kids during this time.  Pasta often is also packaged in cardboard: but almost all of it comes with a little plastic window so that you can see the pasta inside.  Breads and bagels - all sliced bread and prepackaged bagels came in plastic.  But we soon found that we were able to buy freshly baked bagels and breads directly from the bakery and put it in our own bags or in paper bags.
        Proteins:  This was, in many ways, even harder.  We are a dairy family.  We love our milk, our yogurt, our cheeses.  We could buy smaller containers of milk in cardboard (half gallon, when we usually buy full gallons of milk: about 5 a week!), but the only brand that did not have a plastic top was Clover, which is very expensive.  We looked for glass milk bottles and did find some in a health food store, and yet even those bottles had plastic lids.  Yogurt and cheese?  Nope.  Out for lent.  I simply could find no yogurt or cheese that was not packaged in plastic.  Some of our family are meat eaters.  We found we could go to the meat counter and ask for meat to be cut and prepared and wrapped in paper.  But we could not simply buy chicken or fish or any other kind of meat in any other way.  All of the prepackaged meat was wrapped in plastic.
        Fruit and Veggies: this was by far the easiest.  We have our own bags that we bring in for fruit and vegetables.  However, there were still limitations.  Cherry tomatoes were out.  So were berries.  Also, while I understand that Trader Joe's has now made a commitment to lessening plastic packaging, so far our local Trader Joe's has not made those changes.  So we can't shop there for our produce during lent.
        Other products were equally challenging.  My cats are extremely picky, I realize, but finding dry cat food that did not come in plastic that my cats would actually eat was a complete fail.  Likewise, we've been trying to get away from some of the cat litters that have so much dust and tracking problems.  But the alternatives all came in plastic.
       When it comes to bathroom and cleaning products, the challenges were even greater.  Toilet paper, shampoo, conditioner, soap dispensers for laundry, dish, hands and body, feminine hygiene products, toothpaste, deodorant:  all of it comes in plastic.  With some serious research, I was able to find products I could order on-line for most of these things.  There is a company that makes toilet paper out of bamboo (grows faster and is therefore more renewable) that also wraps the paper in bamboo packaging.  I also found a company that makes shampoo, conditioner and deodorant that comes in a bar form and therefore can be packaged in cardboard.  I am trying that out and will let you know how that goes.  There are also alternatives to laundry soap and dish soap.  Many companies advertise that they are "better" in terms of their plastic use but in fact they aren't.  One, for example, states that it produces less plastic waste by sending you a glass bottle and then liquid soap to fill the bottle in plastic bags.  Those plastic bags are still plastic, so I'm not sure who they think they are fooling.  All of this required research and ordering from companies that don't sell their products in local stores.  The toothpaste alternatives, as well as most household cleaning alternatives mostly seem to involve making your own products. Cleaners are mostly baking soda and vinegar.  There are tooth powders, yet, interestingly, almost all still came in plastic, which made me question the point.  Also the textures of these alternatives (and the concern over a lack of fluoride in the toothpaste) were really distasteful.  Still, it challenged me to think about how far I was willing to go with this, even just for lent.
         Other things were just not an option.  I could not find batteries, for example, without plastic packaging.  While there are alternatives to toothbrushes and hair brushes, on most the bristles still appear to be plastic, even when the backs are bamboo or wood.  Razors are mostly plastic, or have plastic components.. they all come packaged in plastic.  Antibacterial cream comes in plastic.  While you can buy spices in glass, they all seem to have a plastic top under the metal lid.  My children are no longer packing their lunches into plastic bags, but the alternatives we've been using are the Tupperware (plastic) in our cupboards.  Better, but still plastic. One more helpful site: here.
        Mostly, the experiment is requiring a change of lifestyle.  For example, when we had my daughter's birthday party, we needed to use real plates because all paper products are packaged in plastic. This might be a no-brainer, except it meant spending a good part of the party washing already used dishes so that there would be enough for the next "course" of whatever the kids were eating.   I've found it necessary to carry in my purse my own mug and my own metal straw (not that straws are ever really necessary) so that when I eat out with friends or even attend meetings at other churches, I can still drink without using a plastic cup.  I went to a day long conference and needed to think through food ahead of time because I knew they'd be bringing in food mostly in plastic containers, with plastic utensils.  For that day, a set of utensils also went into my purse.  Web-sites that encourage limiting plastic use say we should bring our own containers to restaurants for left-overs.  At that point, my purse was just too big to carry!
      As I said, we are only half way through lent.  I will continue to explore alternatives and let you know at the end of the best products we find.  It's been a good challenge for all of us to really look at our plastic use.  Not easy, but good.  The challenge of picking something for lent that actually serves something bigger than ourselves has been great.  I hope that next year we can come up with something equally challenging, eye-opening, and hopefully even more helpful to the earth.

Amos

            According to the New Interpreter’s Bible commentary, Amos compiles the earliest collection of the words of a prophet into a book.  Amos paints a picture of a time when all will be reduced to despair.  He anticipates the fall of Israel to Assyria.  Amos’ message is new in that it is the first writing we have that specifically names the threat of exile for the Israelites.  The book of Amos is also the book that emphasizes most strongly the judgment aspect of God, the anger of God and the promise of punishment.

            Once again, as with all of the prophets, Amos declares that God is angry, VERY angry with unjust behavior.  In specific, God is very angry with the elite of Israel living in comfort and luxury, while the poor are suffering.  It doesn’t matter to God that the elite are going to worship, are offering sacrifices to God, even that they praise God.  What matters to God, according to Amos, is again how they treat the poor and suffering people.  God is furious at the rich who are hanging out with other rich people in lofty worship services but not caring for the poor.  God is angry at the offerings of wealth lifted up to God because God wants those things given to God’s people.  God is upset with the self-important attitude of the people.  Amos says, “Are your kingdoms really better than those around you?”  And again, Amos declares that God’s response will be punishment – and the total destruction of Israel.  He anticipates an event that actually happened – the elite of Israel were either killed or exiled to Assyria.  This invasion almost completely wiped out Israel as a people.  And Amos understands this coming invasion to be a punishment by God because of the lack of caring of the Israelites for their poor and marginalized. 

            God calls us, too, to pay attention to the poor and oppressed.  God also calls us to read the signs, like Amos, of what is to come, to pay attention to where God is calling us and what God is calling us to do.  When things feel wrong, when we are in pain, these are gifts to us, for they tell us something is wrong, that something needs our attention.  When our bodies hurt, we know that we must listen to our bodies to find out what is wrong.  As horrible as it is, pain is a gift, for it alerts us to what needs attention, what we are called to do.

            In Monty Python’s “Quest for the Holy Grail”, there is a scene that, if you are at all familiar with Monty Python, you probably know well.  It is the scene with the Black Night.  King Arthur has just come across the Black Knight who is blocking his path across a bridge.  The Knight tells King Arthur that he will not be allowed to pass.  King Arthur draws his sword in what appears to be a serious encounter to the death.  It starts out very intense, it appears to be a battle of matched wits, when suddenly King Arthur chops off the Black Knight’s arm.  King Arthur announces, “You have fought bravely, sir Knight, now please let me pass.”  But the Black Knight says, “What?  Nothing happened here.  I’m not injured.”  King Arthur is astonished and says, “What?  I’ve just chopped off your arm!”  But the Black Knight denies it.  “No, you haven’t.  It’s just a scratch.  I’ve had worse.  Fight, you coward.”  He insists that they keep on.  So again they begin to fight.  King Arthur chops off his other arm.  He then bows down to give thanks to God for the victory of the battle, only to be kicked in the back by the Black Knight.  King Arthur stands up and says, “I honor and appreciate your courage, but you have lost.  Now let me pass.”  But the Black Knight insists, “no, there is nothing wrong with me, this is just a flesh wound.”  And tries to kick him again.  King Arthur tries to convince the Black Knight that he is done, but the Black Knight just insists that King Arthur is being cowardly.  So, as you might imagine, the next thing King Arthur attacks is one of the Black Knight’s legs.  When King Arthur again insists that the Knight has fought bravely but must now allow him to pass, the Black Knight calls him chicken and hops around on his one remaining leg, trying to butt King Arthur with his head.  Finally, King Arthur takes out his other leg.  At this point the Black Knight says, “Well, I guess it’s a draw then” but as King Arthur crosses the bridge, the Knight calls out to him that he is running away and being a coward and a chicken.  A silly story, perhaps.  But part of the humor in it is, as always with humor, the truth in it.  Sometimes we don’t want to see the signs that something is wrong.  Sometimes it feels easier to ignore the pain rather than address it. 

And while it would be easier for me to just focus on how we do this as individuals, all of the prophets are, again, extremely political.  I would rather not preach a political sermon, but Amos doesn’t allow for that.  God’s words through Amos confront the nation of Israel.   And so we too, need to look at the bigger picture, the wider lens, especially when we listen for God’s message as given to us through the prophets.  While it is important to see in what way we ignore the pain and the signs as individuals, it is more relevant to our study of the prophets to look at what pain and signs we ignore as citizens of a country.  For example, when countries are attacked, in whatever way and for whatever reason, it is easier for its citizens to blame the attacking country rather than self-reflect on what they might have done to enrage or upset the attacker.  It is hard for citizens of a country to acknowledge what the pain says about what is wrong with their own country.  But this is what Amos is challenging and what he is declaring to be very, very serious.  The results of this are not to be taken lightly.  The self-righteous stand that we are right and others are wrong does not help our standing in the world, does not help our relationships with others, and does not help ourselves.  God does not call us to be proud or arrogant, personally or collectively.  Every Sunday we confess our sins, but this is incomplete if we remain in denial about what those sins are.  People around the world believe it is patriotic to praise their countries to the point of blindness.  But it is not patriotic for people to be blind about how their countries impact the world in negative ways.  It is dishonest, it is arrogant, it is deceitful.  Loving one’s children means correcting their behavior so they can be the best they can be.  Loving one’s country means being willing to work for its betterment.  Israel was the chosen people, and God still called them to the task of looking at their behavior as a people, as a nation.  If God’s chosen country can be called to this task, the rest of the world needs to also be willing to be patriotic enough to care about their countries honestly, to work to make them the best they can be, we are called to be patriotic enough to challenge and confront injustice.

            There is a real difference between the Israelites that Amos was challenging and us today.  Amos was confronting the Israelites who were in charge.  They were the people with both money and power.  While we in the United States, even the poorest of us, in comparison to the rest of the world, have the money and resources, you and I, we don’t have the power.  We can vote, and we can choose how we spend our money, we can write letters.  But we don’t run the government, we are not part of the 18 families who have 90% of the worlds power and resources.  A study by Princeton University shows that public policy has absolutely zero effect on the decisions our government makes.  (see Unbreaking America). And I will also admit that it takes a great deal of time and self-education to know how to live lives that don't contribute to injustice: who to buy from who is not using child labor or exploiting poor people, who to vote for who cares about the poorest of the poor.  It takes a great deal of love and commitment to choose not to be a part of the injustice in this world.  But God, through Amos, calls us to do just that. 

            I know this is not easy.  Sometimes it is very hard to look at the things that cause us pain and see what the signs are telling us.  It feels easier to deny our part, our pain, to deny an injury at the international level, at the national level, at the community level, and even at the personal level.  I get this.  The first time I had skin cancer, I knew there was a problem with a spot on my face but I keep delaying going to the doctor because I didn’t really want to know, didn’t really want to deal with it.  I delayed it, putting myself at risk.  So I get it.  But just as that was a potentially life-threatening bad decision on my part to not seek out the cause of my skin issue, our choices to not look at pain are dangerous.

            Amos doesn’t offer a great deal of hope.  He is clear about the destruction that he believes is inevitable, as in fact it was, for the people of Israel.  But there is always good news.  That is why we are here, for the Good News.  And in this case, the Good News is that God is a God of the resurrection.  Even as we make our way towards the cross during this Lenten season, even as we are called to pay attention to the hurts, pains, and signs of our times, even as we are called to repent, to change, to strive to be better at serving God and each other, in the midst of all of this we can remember that Jesus walks this path with us and that there will be resurrection on the other side.  That is the promise.  That is the hope.

Women Prophets

Deborah, Miriam, Anna, etc.
           For those of you who were not here last week, during this Lenten season we will be looking at the prophets.  Last week I shared with you that there are 3 major books named after prophets and 12 minor books in the bible named after prophets.  I shared also that they generally have two major messages: do not worship idols and do whatever you can to bring justice (care for those suffering) for the people.  What I did not point out, but what I think is so very important is that these are the same two mandates Jesus gives us.  He says that all the law and the prophets can be summed up into two commandments.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart strength and mind (ie, no idols: put nothing before God), and love your neighbor as yourself (ie make sure that all people are treated with kindness and justice and that all have enough). 
           Today is going to be a little different in that we will be hearing about and “from” prophets that do not have books written in their name.  Listen now to the voices of our women prophets:

 “Who are you?” you ask.  And well you should!  I am a prophet.  I am more than a prophet.  I am many prophets, recognized thinly by scripture.  I am given the respect by my people afforded to prophets, I am recognized as one of those called.  And yet the question remains, “Who are you?”   -because the recordings of me are scant.  My name, a few phrases from my histories, my title of prophetess are all mentioned in scripture.  But little beyond that is named.  Little beyond that is said.  The scriptures focus on the men.  The scriptures focus on the male prophets, their words, their deeds, their callings from God.  What is known of me is little.  What is remembered of me is slight.  Even when the parts I play are important to the life and history of God’s people, my name is rarely known and the parts I played are given little credit.  Still, today I am here to give you a glimpse, a vision, a picture into the many unnamed prophetesses who have been a part of creating the history that has made you who you are, as people of faith, as God’s people.

             I am Miriam, the sister of Aaron and Moses.  I have led the Israelite women, God’s women, in dancing and praise singing, “Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously: horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.”  (Exodus 15:20-21)  I am a prophet, yet still I am human.  Aaron and I made a mistake, chastising Moses for marrying outside of our community, marrying a Cushite.  As a result of this error I became leprous for a time.  Aaron remained unpunished, but I took on this punishment for the both of us.  Still, my people stayed by me.  They still valued my prophesy and I was healed and reunited with my people.  I heard God’s voice of correction and I changed.  I made mistakes, but I was not stubborn in them.  I heard God, spoke God’s words, and changed my behavior. (Numbers 12:1-15). I died in the wilderness of Zin.(Numbers 20:1)  And this is all there is in the Bible about me.  Still, there is much to be heard, much to be learned, even in these few short verses of scripture.  Listen below the words, hear my story and learn.

          I am Deborah. I was not only a prophet but also a judge of Israel before there were kings to rule God’s people.  I announced to Barak that he was to take on the army of Jabin with Sisera in the lead.  But Barak knew he could not do this without me.  And so I arose as a mother of Israel and led the people of Israel in this battle, knowing that another woman, Jael, would be the one to ultimately defeat Sisera for the people of God.  Jael and I, together, were the strength of the people Israel on this day and we led the Israelite army to defeat those who were oppressing God’s people.  We were its leaders and we did what no man did.  Then together I sang with Barak, “Hear O kings; give ear, O princes; to the Lord I will sing, I will make melody to the Lord, the God of Israel.”  I sang, “perish all your enemies, O Lord!  But may your friends be like the sun as it rises in its might.”  I sang of Jael, I sang of the people of Israel, God’s people.  I sang, and while I also led and defeated enemies of God’s people, this, too is all that you will hear of me.  This is all that is known of my prophesy and my care for the people of Israel – for God’s people. (Judges 4-5)

            I am Anna, the widowed, who lived in the temple and spent all of my time speaking to God, fasting and praying constantly on behalf of God’s people.  I was in the temple when Jesus was brought in as a baby.  And I knew him instantly.  I was blessed to meet the infant Christ, and to proclaim him to be such to all who came near. 

          I am all the unnamed women prophets, or the ones whose names are mentioned with no details.  I am the women throughout history who have had a piece in the story but have been nameless, or faceless – their histories seen as trivial and unimportant, their contributions minimized or denied.  I am your mothers, your sisters, your daughters, your wives – not written into the history because it has been “his story” written by and about the men of faith.  Yet even so, my stories cannot be completely ignored.  I sneak into you’re his-stories, I sneak into your leadership because without me there is no you.  My part is minimized, yet here I remain, prophets, judges, leaders, - and while my story is not often told, it continues to shape you and it continues to determine the journey of God’s people.

            Still, it is okay with me to receive such little notice.  It is okay because I did not prophesy for the sake of fame.  I did not prophesy for the sake of recognition and remembrance.  I came, I spoke, I prophesied because God called me to do this. 

          You, too are called.  Whether male or female, your part in the history of God’s people is important.  Listen to your call.  Answer God with a “yes” and go – speak God’s words of justice, of truth, of love.  Remember Miriam, Deborah, Anna and all the unnamed prophets who have led and pushed and challenged and taught.  Remember our courage.  And go and do likewise.

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            Today is “Celebrating the Gifts of Women” Sunday in the Presbyterian Church, USA.  Many of us, understandably, probably wonder why we still have this Sunday.  After all, when we look at the PCUSA as a whole, 66% of our members are women.  Our percentage of ruling elders (session members) is currently 52% women.  And our percentages of women pastors, while not equal yet to men is about one third female pastors to 2/3 male pastors.  Our seminary students are predominantly women at this point.  Women’s voices in the church are on the rise, so why do we need a day to focus solely on women in the church?  In this congregation especially, where you have a history of female pastors and elders and all but one of your deacons is female.  Not that we don’t have male leadership – Currently 2/3 of the session and of the trustees are male.  But do we really need a day to focus on the gifts of women in the church?  And if so, why?
          One of the reasons why this day continues to be important was shared with us by our Women Prophet representatives today.  It is important that we make sure to spend some time recognizing women of faith, recognizing women’s contributions to the church and to our faith lives because women are so under-represented in scripture.  We know that they were an important part of the faith stories and faith lives because their names do make it in to the stories occasionally even though women were not the writers, readers, or interpreters of these biblical passages.  Women were not valued in the same way that they are today, they were not given the same opportunities that men had, and they were not really seen as fully human.  Still, many of their stories, while abbreviated, do make it into scripture and that fact in itself is a strong testimonial to the importance of women to our faith story and more importantly, to God.
            While specifically on this day, then, we are called to take seriously the female contribution to our relationships with God and our understanding of God, at the same time I think there is a deeper message here for us to hear and understand.  We are called to look around us and see where God is, to see God’s face, to see God’s presence when it comes to us.  This is not always an easy thing to do, but it is made much harder by our preconceived ideas about where God is not to be found.  If we think that God is not found in the homeless, or in those we don’t like, or, as in the case of some of the biblical writers, in women, then we limit how God can speak to us, where God speaks to us and when.  We limit our connection and our relationships with God if we fail to look in the places where we might otherwise least expect to see God.
              I have shared with you before scenes from the TV series Joan of Arcadia.  At the very beginning of the series when the teenage girl Joan first has an encounter with God, Joan is not happy about it.  Joan argues with God, first denying that the person in front of her is God, but then finally coming to terms with it.  “I don’t look like this.  I don’t look like anything you’d recognize.  You can’t see me.  I don’t sound like anything you’d recognize.  I am beyond your experience.”  
           Joan, who is still really not understanding responds with, “So, do you just go around appearing to people?”  
           To which the God-character responds, “Minor Correction: I am not appearing to you.  You are perceiving me.”  I think there is great wisdom in that.  God is all around us.  But our sacred moments, our moments when we are touched by the Divine happen when we have the vision to perceive God.  Again, we see the miracles, we hear God’s voice, we see God’s presence only when we are open to perceiving it.
            I think we have a hard time perceiving pretty much anything.  We are mostly made of space, our atoms are mostly space, but that’s not what we see when we look at one another.  White light is light made of all the colors, but we don’t see all the colors.  Frankly, we see very little.  The visible light spectrum is the segment of the electromagnetic spectrum that the human eye can see.  Our eyes can detect wavelengths from 380 to 700 nanometers.  But that means that in fact we just perceive a very small portion of the wavelengths that are out there.  Even within this spectrum, our sight is limited.  For example, we see three primary colors.  This has to do with our cones and what our eyes can detect.  The Mantis Shrimp, in contrast, has 16 primary colors and all of its variations.
           Then when we are asked to perceive where God is, well, perhaps given how hard it is to see what is right in front of our eyes, seeing the origin of things and God’s presence in what happens around us can become even harder.  Seeing beneath what is in front of our eyes is a different kind of challenge.  Seeing and hearing God can be extremely challenging.  But God is always there. 
           Dwight Nelson told a story that he said was true about the pastor of his church. He had a kitten that climbed up a tree in his backyard and then was afraid to come down. The pastor coaxed, offered warm milk, etc.
           The kitty would not come down. The tree was not sturdy enough to climb, so the pastor decided that if he tied a rope to his car and pulled it until the tree bent down, he could then reach up and get the kitten.
            That's what he did, all the while checking his progress in the car. He then figured if he went just a little bit further, the tree would be bent sufficiently for him to reach the kitten. But as he moved the car a little further forward, the rope broke.
            The tree went 'boing!' and the kitten instantly sailed through the air - out of sight.
            The pastor felt terrible. He walked all over the neighborhood asking people if they'd seen a little kitten. No. Nobody had seen a stray kitten.
             So he prayed, 'Lord, I just commit this kitten to your keeping,' and went on about his business.
             A few days later he was at the grocery store, and met one of his church members. He happened to look into her shopping cart and was amazed to see cat food.
             This woman was a cat hater and everyone knew it, so he asked her, 'Why are you buying cat food when you hate cats so much?' She replied, 'You won't believe this,' and then told him how her little girl had been begging her for a cat, but she kept refusing.
            Then a few days before, the child had begged again, so the Mom finally told her little girl, 'Well, if God gives you a cat, I'll let you keep it.'
            She told the pastor, 'I watched my child go out in the yard, get on her knees, and ask God for a cat. And really, Pastor, you won't believe this, but I saw it with my own eyes. A kitten suddenly came flying out of the blue sky, with its paws outspread, and landed right in front of her.'
            God moments.
            For those of you who attended or participated in the concert fundraiser for the victims of the Camp Fire up in Paradise, you heard the pastor share his story of losing everything; his home, his belongings, and just barely escaping, through the flames as he drove, with his life.  He shared with us that as he returned to look at the damage, there was only one thing that he found at the house intact.  Just one.  His daughter had died a few years previously and they had hung on to a nightlight of Jesus holding a lamb.  They’d hung on to it because it was a connection to their daughter whom they had lost to death.  And when they went back to the house to find everything, everything destroyed after the Camp fire, the one thing that had somehow survived the flames was this plastic Jesus nightlight holding a lamb: their connection to their daughter, and to faith all wrapped in one.  A visual sign and reminder that even in the dark, they were held like a lamb held by Jesus. 
             I’ve shared with you before many of my own times of perceiving God: times when I received comforting or reassuring emails at just the right moment, songs that have come on the radio just when I needed to hear them, strangers making comments at just the right time.  These happen for me often.  Just this last week, when I went spinning down that path of struggling with trust, a series of songs came on the radio, three in a row that were all songs that connected me deeply to those people I was fearful about, songs that reminded me of the good in them, songs that reconnected me to what is real about the here and now.  I heard those for the God messages they were. 
            What is even more humbling perhaps is those times when we are invited to be God’s face for someone else.  I shared with you this story in a newsletter article, but felt it would be appropriate for today as well:
            When Aislynn was two, I used to take her to "get used to water" swim lesson at the Hayward Plunge - a lesson she loved so much she would cry when it was time to get out of the pool.  I sat on the side lines with a woman I'd been befriending who had twins in Aislynn's class. Unusual to this lesson, there were also two other women sitting in front of us in the "observation" benches: they had brochures in their hands about the classes being offered and seemed to be checking out the adult water aerobics class to see if they wanted to sign up. Half way into the lesson one of the two women in front of me excused herself and left. My new friend also had to leave at that point because her twins needed a trip to the bathroom. As soon as both the other women left, the woman sitting in front of me suddenly burst into tears. She turned towards me and said, "the woman I was sitting with has just made me very sad." I was surprised, but also immediately jumped into "pastoral counselor" mode and put my hand on her back and asked what had happened. She sort of melted into my touch and sobbed out that she had just gotten out of the hospital where she'd had to have two blood transfusions. These transfusions had saved her life and she was doing really well now, though in need of some light exercise. Apparently, though, the women she'd been sitting with had just told her that getting blood transfusions was a really bad thing and that she would probably die from the diseases carried in the new blood. Unbelievable!  I told her that there used to be problems, occasionally, with people passing on diseases in this way, but that because of those problems the blood that now gets passed on in transfusions is really very thoroughly tested. Obviously she had needed the transfusions and the very fact that she was doing better should show her that the new blood had not made her ill at all! I said that I believed the other woman to be greatly misinformed and apparently not very helpful either. I then just listened as she poured out more information about her life - the joys and struggles, but at the end she said she was feeling much better. Within a minute of her telling me she was better and after getting herself together, drying her eyes and sitting up with a smile once more, my friend with her twins returned to the bench.
            As the lesson ended and we all made our way out of the Plunge, the distressed woman came up and said she really felt I had been a God-send that day - that she usually doesn't dump on total strangers and she just thanked God I had been there when I was. The cynical part of me wondered (to myself) if God could send people hither and yon why She/He hadn't sent the unhelpful, misinformed woman somewhere else this morning. But I did think it was interesting that at just the moment the distressed woman needed some personal care that everyone else in the area left.
            My personal belief is that God doesn't take away our free will: God doesn't control everything. At the same time, I think God can and does work through people and situations that are open to God's guidance, wisdom, love and hope. In this case, it seemed to work out - maybe not just for the distressed woman, but for myself as well who was in need of a little reassurance of God's presence, love and care that morning as well.
             But, as in the Joan of Arcadia series, the bottom line is the same.  Those moments when we are suddenly deeply aware of God sending us messages of love and support and care are not times when God suddenly appears.  Those moments when you become aware of God’s messages of love and support are not times when God suddenly appears.  Because God is always there.  Instead, these are times when we are suddenly graced with the perception of the God who is always with us.   
           A kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing.  She would occasionally walk around to see each child’s work.  As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was.  The girl replied, “I’m drawing God.”  The teacher paused and said, “But no one knows what God looks like.”  Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, “They will in a minute.”  I think God looks like many things: nature, other people, sunshine, rainbows; moments of presence, moments of peace, moments of connection.  The question is will we see God?  We are too often guilty of seeing what we know rather than knowing what we see.
           But as Albert Einstein said, “There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.”
           Today we are called to celebrate the gifts of women.  But for me, this is a day when we are called to something even deeper.  We are called to look at those people whom we might otherwise fail to see as messengers of God’s love.  We are called to seek out those moments where God’s message and light come through people and nature and our lives in unexpected ways.  We are called to celebrate the gifts of those who are often unseen, minimized or ignored.  We are called to open ourselves to seeing God in new ways.

Micah

            This lent we are going to be doing a sermon series focusing on the prophets. 

To give a broad overview: In terms of the books in the Bible, there are three books named after major prophets, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel and twelve named after minor or “lesser” prophets.  I am saying it this way because we know there were many other prophets mentioned in the Bible as well, but ones that did not necessarily have books written after them.  The difference between those who received books and those who didn’t, those who are called “major” and those considered “minor” prophets is not in their importance so much as it is in the length of their books, or the length of what was written about them.  Some of the prophets are speaking to the whole of Israel, but many are speaking to either Israel (Northern Kingdom) or Judah (the Southern kingdom where Jerusalem was located) during the time when they were split into two kingdoms.  Some wrote before the Babylonian exile, some during and some after.  In the case of the book of Isaiah, there are indications that parts of it were written during each of those periods. 

All of the prophets deliver similar messages of God’s call to the people to act with love towards God and towards others, and they focus especially on loving those who are underprivileged and oppressed.  These prophets condemn those who use others to their own advantage, and the prophets particularly condemn the people in power, and the systems that oppress certain populations of people.  These include the poor, the widowed, those who have less than we do or were outcast  or marginalized in some way.  It can be hard to hear the words of the prophets because they begin, universally, with condemnation and the promise of punishment as a result of God’s anger towards the people because they have done otherwise.  For many of us we find self-condemnation in these words.  For others, we hear it as a promise that the ungodly will be punished.  But for all of us, the call as we listen to the prophets is to focus, especially during this Lenten season when we are called to look deep at ourselves and what blocks our relationships with God, we are called to listen to the prophets’ call to change in our own lives.  This focuses in two areas: what idols do we put before God that we need to confront?  We don’t have statues here, but in our culture we have other idols: power, fame, money, our toys, our schedules, our addictions, our images for who we are rather than the realities of who we are.  And the second again, is the call to be more loving towards people, and especially towards those who are less privileged than we are.

            Obviously, with five weeks we will not focus on all of the prophets, but I want to give you an overview and so we will focus on a few of the prophets over the weeks of lent, all of whom are “lesser” prophets simply because we don’t hear from or about them as often.  Today we will begin this series by listening to passages from the book of Micah.  

----------------------------(scripture)

Micah was speaking to the kingdom of Judah (Southern kingdom) during the time when the kingdoms were divided, before the Babylonian exile.  Micah’s primary focus is on the injustice of God’s people towards those with less.  Unlike some of the other prophets, Micah really does not focus so much on idolatry, but his focus is solely on the injustice of God’s people towards one another.  Micah felt great compassion for the poor and dispossessed and he held the leaders of Judah as responsible for their suffering.  He sums up what God is calling us to do with the famous passage that we hear so often from the book of Micah:

“What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God.”

So today I want to look very briefly at these three activities:

Doing Justice:  Micah is confronting the rulers of the time in Judah, who were specifically driving the independent (small) farmers off of their land, something Micah said was completely against God.  These fields were then being foreclosed on, forcing these farmers into extreme poverty.  Micah, as with all the prophets is highly political and is condemning a society in which such a thing can happen.  How does this relate to us?

In a nutshell, the justice that Micah is talking about here starts with remembering that we are all deeply connected.  Before you act towards any other person, whatever their situation, you need to think how you would feel as the recipient of that action, how it would affect you, how it would affect your family.  Justice is then living out that deep connection to one another by seeing the pain of our brothers and sisters, our neighbors, and even our enemies and being willing to first, own our part in causing it, and secondly, to change our behavior that damages or hurts others.  Justice is acting with love and compassion towards whomever it is that we encounter, whomever it is that is standing in front of us in each moment.  But of course it is also much more than that.  Justice is standing up against the status quo even for those we will never meet.  Remember, Micah’s God punished the entire community, everyone, for not only perpetuating these injustices, but for allowing them to take place within their community.  Justice then is knowing that while I do these actions out of love for you, in serving you, I serve myself because without your justice, there is no justice for me; without your peace, there is no peace for me; without your love, I am nothing. 

This is hugely central to Micah’s message, and, frankly, to all of the prophets.  While the violence they attribute to God may be something we struggle to understand or see in the God of love we have come to know, the message, that central message of justice, is a big part of Jesus’ message as well.  It is not something we can ignore or leave out of our understanding of who God is.

Loving Kindness: This is pretty simple and direct, though maybe one of the hardest to work out day to day.  It means that we are called to avoid being snippy, angry, attacking or rude and instead find ways to be compassionate, present with people, honest, yes, but with love and the other’s best interest in mind.  Loving kindness means striving to remember that if someone is acting badly, that says a lot about them and nothing about us, so we can be compassionate for the bad day they may be having, or the bad week, or even the bad life.  If someone is mean to us or rejects us, that is about their failure to be kind, and we do not have to let ourselves be influenced or controlled by that bad behavior into behaving badly ourselves.  Loving kindness is searching out the good, seeing the good, affirming the good, and choosing the good in our own behaviors.

And finally, we are to Walk Humbly with our God:

Walking into the empty sanctuary of his synagogue, a rabbi was suddenly possessed by a wave of mystical rapture, and threw himself onto the ground before the Ark proclaiming, "Lord, I'm Nothing!"

Seeing the rabbi in such a state, the cantor felt profoundly moved by similar emotions. He too, threw himself down in front of the Ark, proclaiming, "Lord, I'm Nothing!"

Then, way in the back of the synagogue, the janitor threw himself to the ground, and he too shouted, "Lord, I'm Nothing."

Whereupon, the rabbi turned to the cantor and whispered, "Look who thinks he's Nothing!"

For us being humble means several things.  First, I think we are called to recognize that we can’t really take most of the credit for anything we would normally brag about.  I think there is a strong inclination to think, for example, that if we were born to parents who had resources and if were given a good education and if we were fed well, that it is somehow because we deserve it over all those people who were not born into families with resources, with education and good food.  We did nothing to deserve that and we forget this, very quickly, very easily.  Also, our talents and our gifts are gifts from God.  They honor God and should not honor ourselves.  Second, we need to remember that what we think of as “accomplishments,” the things our society recognizes as accomplishments are not the things that God prizes.  Does God think those who die with the most money win?  How about the most power?   The most fame?  How about the most friends?  The most children?  No, instead, God prizes the very things Micah mentions: justice, kindness, humility.

We walk humbly with God by doing the things that God places in front of us to do while recognizing that God is not calling us to a particular task because we are somehow “better” or “superior.”   We see this when we look at other parts of the Bible as well.  Why did God choose Mary to birth Jesus?  We are told nothing in our scriptures to indicate that Mary is superior.  Instead it seems she was quite ordinary except for one thing - and that is that she said, “yes” to God’s call for her.  The same could be said of any of the prophets or holy people in the Bible.  Though many resisted their call (Jonah, Jeremiah, even Moses), in the end, all said yes.  If you say “yes,” to God’s call, you have succeeded.  If you do that without bragging about it or somehow feeling superior, then you have truly learned to “walk humbly with God.”

C.S. Lewis’ main character in the second of his space trilogy, Peralandra, says, “Don’t imagine I’ve been selected for (this task) because I’m anyone in particular.  One never can see, or not till long afterwards, why anyone was selected for any job.  And when one does, it is usually some reason that leaves no room for vanity.  Certainly, it is never for what the (person) him (or her) self would have regarded as their chief qualifications.”

Being humble means giving thanks for the gifts we have, not in relation to others, but just giving thanks for the gifts we have.  It means taking the risk of doing the loving, doing the justice, being kind and saying “yes” to the tasks that come before us.  It means recognizing that all are called, and that we are called out of God’s love for us, not because we are more special than the next person, but because God loves us that much.

The book of Micah, while being a book that strongly condemns the mistreatment of others, ends on a note of hope.  Within the anger and destructive response of God to injustice still always lies the seeds for renewal, repentance, and hope for God’s restoration, God’s resurrection, God’s recreation of us as a people.  God does get angry, but God is also compassionate and full of mercy and grace.  That is the good news.  We are given opportunity in every day to try again.  To repent.  To renew.  To be recreated.  And to accept the grace of God. 

Our challenge this lent remains to follow God’s words as spoken by the prophet Micah; to do  justly, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.  Amen.

Lessons from Animals

         As many of you know, we have been dog-sitting this week.  This has been a real challenge for us in many ways.  For one thing, we all are busy: school, work, errands - which take us from home.  David, fortunately, works remotely most of the time, and we have decided that for this week someone must be at the house with the dog at all times.  But still, this has been a challenge adding into our already tight schedules dog walks and other outdoor time for the dog to get his business done.  It also means we have not been able to enjoy the same family trips and events outside of the home.  Still, after the initial couple days of accidents and other challenges with the dog, things are better, at least as far as the dog's happiness and comfort is concerned.
          The bigger issue has been that we are a family with three cats, each with their own personalities, gifts, and issues.  But watching the interaction between the cats and dogs has been interesting and in some ways insightful.
         As I said, we have three cats, all of whom are litter-mates: two brothers and a sister born on the same day to the same mother, who was a stray.  There is Storm, who is the Alpha cat.  He is bossy with the other cats, and even with the people.  He will insist on sitting on our laps, for example.  If we put him down, he will just jump back up again and again.  He is the one who informs us when it is time to be fed.  He will sit on my lap facing me and stare into my face.  If I don't react quickly enough and am sitting on the couch, he will climb onto the back of the couch and actually hit me on the head with his paw. With the other cats, he will chase, pin them and hold their necks in his mouth as a way to assert and maintain dominance.  The more attention we give him, the less he does this, so he also tends to be the cat who claims the most attention.  Spotty is our girl cat.  She really wants nothing to do with her brothers and keeps to herself.  She is very friendly with the humans, though, she likes to cuddle with us and even sleeps on our bed.  She is very affectionate with the people.  Shadow is our "dog" cat.  He will sit to get treats, comes when he is called, and insists on sitting in a chair at the table with us when we eat dinner.  He likes to be petted, but does not like sitting on laps.  He is also lowest on the totem pole.  He will cuddle with his brother, but if Spotty hisses at him, or Storm tries to insist on dominance, he will cry and try to get as small as he can.  He deals with the stress of this by being our little over-eater kitty.  He is all about the food, and he seems to have a very low self-esteem for a cat.  He slinks away from the bossy cat and is hesitant about being in a place that Storm has claimed as his own.  He won't go on our bed because Storm and Spotty sleep there.
       What is interesting to me in the face of all of this is that Storm, the dominant bossy cat, is also the coward when it comes to strange people and strange animals.  Storm always hides when we have guests, unlike Shadow who is curious and wants to know everyone who comes into the house.  And this week, it is Shadow who has decided to make friends with the dog and will even sleep near the dog.  He is the one who has figured out that the dog can't jump and is really a very small dog, so if Shadow sits on the counter or on top of the book shelf, the dog can't get to him. The dog and the cat will comfortably sit in the same room for the most part of the day without conflict.  In contrast, Storm and Spotty hide all day long until the dog goes into his crate for the night.  Only then will they come out and they still won't be in the same room with the dog.  As a result, it is Shadow who is getting the most kitty attention this week because he is willing to be in the same room with the dog who wants to be with us all the time.
        Shadow has a lot going for him.  Not only is he the bravest cat, but he is also the smartest cat.  Shadow figured out how to open round knobbed door handles (quite a challenge for those of us who didn't want him getting into the pantry or into certain rooms in the house!).  He figured out how to get the treats out of the cupboard.  And when we had moved here, across the country into our new house, Shadow was in the house less than an hour before he found a secret hole that allowed him to escape.  When we realized he was gone, we figured we'd never see him again.  After all, how could he learn in less than an hour that this new house was "home" especially after being separated from the family for about 3 months?  But we found him sitting on the porch the next morning after his escape.  In that briefest of time, he figured out where "home" was.  Unfortunately, he also has a good enough memory that it took him almost a year to forgive us for the trauma of the move across the country and the "incarceration" at the Kennel for three months.
          As I reflected on these different personalities of the cats, I found myself thinking about how they mirror humans in so many ways.  Shadow is by far the most "talented" of the cats.  He is brave, smart, resourceful and has an amazing memory.  But he is also the least secure, and in many ways appears to be the least "happy" of the cats, crying more, over-eating more, slinking around in front of the dominant cat.  In contrast, I don't really know what Storm has going for him accept that he's dominant and bossy.  But that dominance, that bossy behavior gets him what he wants pretty much all the time.  So too with humans.  Sometimes it is the most talented, most resourceful, most motivated and committed people whom we see struggling with low self-esteem and debilitating depression.  In contrast, some of our least gifted, least kind, least "good" people seem to have egos the size of China.  Perhaps this is the result of experience: child-hood traumas or long term treatment that affects some in such a way that they gain confidence while others lose it.  Perhaps it is all chemical and some people are just born with a strong sense of self-worth and even entitlement.  Perhaps it is an awareness of the lack of real talent that causes people to feel they must assert their worth by putting others down.  Maybe it is simply fear: a fear of being seen, a fear of having what is "yours" taken away that causes people to push others down.  Probably it is a combination of all of these things.
        Regardless of the reasons, I see that people continue to act as the cats do.  People bully others and assert dominance over other people to try to boost themselves up.  They do this with individuals, they do it with entire groups of people.  We still create hierarchies that only benefit those on top, and we uphold them in such a way that many people are held down, oppressed, harmed, and even killed by those insecure enough to fear that if they share the pie, there won't somehow be enough left for them.
        I deeply believe in a God who made enough for all of us, who created a world in which there really is plenty for all of us to share.  And if we could only hold on to the fact that we are all valuable just because we ARE, that as children of God we are all loved and wanted and made beautiful, then perhaps we might treat each other better, might empower each other more, might help raise in people a true sense of worth without the need to bully or assert dominance.  If we could only remember that we are all brothers and sisters and that your well-being affects my well-being in the way that if you are happy, I am much more likely to be happy as well; if you are hurting and don't have enough, the same will be true of me; then I believe we would not have to grab for ourselves and keep others "out" out of fear of losing what we feel to be "ours".  We have taken a world created to be good where there is enough for all, and we have decided that some can have much more than they need while others don't have enough to survive.  We lack true faith in a God who created us with enough for all.  We lack faith in a God who wants the best for every single person, not just for a few, not just for some.  We lack faith in a God of deep, overflowing, abounding love.
       Perhaps we can learn from our animal friends.  The cat who was willing to cross the boundaries and befriend the dog is a much happier cat this week.  The two who are fearful have ended up alienating and isolating themselves.  There is a lot to be said for trying to understand and accept one another despite our differences.  May we have the eyes to see, and the faith to trust that God loved ALL of us into being, and calls us to love all of one another enough to care for them as we would care for ourselves.

Boundaries and Identity

          Last week I was working on my sermon on the Transfiguration.  A large part of that sermon focused on identity.  Who are we?  Who are you at your deepest core?  Under all the veils of social acceptability and under calls to various things, our faith, our relationships, our jobs, our personalities  - under all of that, who are we? And as I wrote the questions, I found myself considering them, as I often do, for myself, and to reflect in a slightly different way on who I really am, when I am most truly myself, and who I am called to be at my core.
         The week before, we had had our clergy boundary training.  This is a required event for all Presbyterian pastors.  We go and are reminded of all the important ways in which we keep boundaries within our congregations and communities.  We talk about the obvious ones (sexual boundaries), but also boundaries that may not be as obvious: money, gifts, time, energy.  We discussed the differences in relationships with parishioners as opposed to people we might friend outside of our congregations, the boundaries that must exist in our sharing and in our behaviors, the rules around what happens when a pastor leaves a congregation and what they can and can't do for and with that congregation or its members once they are gone, etc.  All of it is very important stuff.  There is a power or authority differential between pastors and congregants that needs to be recognized by pastors so that they do not use that authority in inappropriate ways.  It is extremely important that we remember that vulnerable people who come and share with us are exactly that: vulnerable, and we have a responsibility to have appropriate boundaries with them so that they can work through whatever it is they are experiencing without the fear of being taken advantage of or further damaged by their time with us.  I agree with everything we were taught at the training.  And I promise to continue to uphold appropriate boundaries.
       But I'll tell you the truth, which has nothing to do with the training.  And that truth is that I left feeling like a big fake.
         What I mean is that as I sat with all of these other very powerful, very authoritative and professional clergy members, I felt that I didn't belong to them.  I had a hard time seeing myself in the stories that were told of people with power.  I had a hard time imaging myself in the stories of people with authority using that authority for good or bad.  My self-image is not of a powerful, authoritative individual.  My self-image is of a person like everyone else I encounter who has struggles and issues and times of sadness and anxiety, and times of crabbiness and times of confusion about everything, including my faith.  I understand, from a practical place, that the role of "pastor" innately has within it a certain power and authority, which then must be used with great respect, caution and awareness.  I understand that and I am careful because of that understanding.
       But I'm also aware of how that role ends up isolating us as the real, human, broken people that we deeply and truly, at our core, are. This, too, was discussed at the boundary training.  Clergy are usually, are often, are inevitably lonely.  We spend a great deal of time with people, but we are limited in how much of ourselves we can share in those situations.  We are therefore encouraged, strongly, to make friends outside of our congregations, the same as other professionals who also must maintain certain boundaries and who do that in part by forming relationships with colleagues at their same level of authority.  But for clergy, who spend 90% of our time not only working but socializing with parishioners, finding the time to work on, build and nurture those outside friendships is often difficult.
       It is also confusing because there are two very different images of pastors.  In the first image, the pastor is distant, and authoritative because he/she does not show any vulnerability or personal pain.  The second image is one of the "wounded healer".  This model shows a pastor who does share their personal experiences of wounding and healing.  And yet, even within that model there are boundaries: usually you don't share until after a crisis has ended, or after you have a handle on how to deal with it, for example.  If you share while you are in crisis, you need to do so in a way that does not leave parishioners feeling they must take care of you.  But again, that often can mean walking the path, the hard path, alone.  And there are times when the personal crises are big enough that this isolation from our real struggles and real lives is an impossibility.
       It's a strange place to be, this place of being a pastor.  It is a weird calling: trying to be prophetic and pastoral at the same time: speaking truth but in a way that doesn't alienate or isolate our parishioners.  We have to wear many hats: that of counselor, that of friend, that of prophetic leader, administrator, speaker, teacher.  Sometimes it feels very artificial.  After all, we believe, those of us Presbyterians at least, that all people are ministers, one to another; that our role as pastor is only different in that it is a different job from what someone else might have, but not a less valued, less "called" or less holy one.  We cannot put ourselves on a pedestal that says we are important or holy where others are not.  And yet, we also have a public role and that role has to be treated, at least by those of us who hold it, with the respect it deserves.  After all, we are told, "If anyone causes one of these little ones--those who believe in me--to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea." 
      I love my work, but I also struggle at times feeling that I don't quite fit into the role, or the image or the personality of what it is to be a pastor.  I struggle as I recognize some of my own faults that pop up and at times make my work challenging for me.  I see the ways in which I am not an ideal pastor.  I see areas of my ministry that are lacking.  And all of it causes me at times to doubt this part of my identity, especially when I am with other pastors who don't have the same areas of challenge or inadequacy.
     Add to it that there are other parts of my identity as well, and some of those are in conflict with my role as pastor.  Parenting as a pastor, for example, is not easy at several levels.  My kids live in a fish bowl.  At my current church my eldest two have dealt with it by maintaining a bit of distance: they have not been as open with who they are in the same way they did in previous churches.  I had a counselor of one of my kids tell me straight out, when I was at my last church, that the best thing I could do for my child would be to change careers.  Pastors who are moms, especially, are constant targets of parenting critique: critique that would not be given to other parishioners.  And that constant watching of how one lives one's life is a challenge, not only for the pastor, but for the entire family (spouse included).  The role of pastor also puts limitations on the spouses of those pastors.  For example, it would be hard for a pastors' spouse to join a support group that assumed open conversation about the personal lives of the pastor and their family.
      I love being a writer, but in that, too, I feel some boundaries and limits with what I can say, or how I can say it, because of my role as pastor.  And that, too, presents challenges for me.
      People are complicated.  And the question I asked of my congregation, "when are you most truly yourself?" is not always met with a simple answer.  I am most truly myself as a pastor in some ways.  But in other ways, I am most truly myself when I am a hundred miles away, anonymous and being a total goofball mom with my kids.  So for me, I think the question is changing a bit.  How can I be a more integrated person and still live up to the codes of my profession?  And if that is not a possibility, what does that mean for me and where do I go from here?  Perhaps this question, too, put forward in a public format, is a crossing of boundaries.  But I share it in the hopes that when other struggle with these questions, they will know that they are not alone.  All of us share questions of identity.  And all of us struggle with the answers at times.
        Go in peace.  Be the most "you" you can be.  Find God where God is calling you to be.  And invite God into that process of becoming more wholly and fully yourself.

Coming into our True Natures

Exodus 34:29-35,

2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2

Luke 9:28-36

I’d like to invite you to take a moment to think of a situation in which you weren’t seen for who you really are: a situation in which someone completely mis-understood you, didn’t get what you were saying or refused to see you as you really are and made assumptions about your motivation, or your personhood that were just plain wrong.  I think for most of us these situations have been painful or unpleasant, though it can also happen that someone thinks of you as better than you are, misunderstanding you in a way that puts you higher in someone’s esteem than you might deserve.  Can you think of a situation where you were judged or misunderstood?

When the kids were young, we read together a series by Noel Streatfield that begins with a book called Dancing Shoes.  And in the book, the little girl, Rachel, whose mother has just died, is seen as a sulky, cold, jealous little girl because she is adamant that her adopted sister, Hillary, not be part of the Wintle’s Little Wonders dance troupe.  The reader in the story is let in on to the fact that Rachel does not wish this for Hillary because she loves Hillary deeply, feels responsible for Hillary’s well being after the death of their mother, and believes that Hillary is capable of being a real ballet dancer with a professional ballet company.  But the adult characters in the book universally mis-understand Rachel and believe that she is an awful, unfeeling, jealous child.  This creates the tension or drama in the story which is only resolved at the end when she is finally seen and heard for who she is and finally treated as the loving child she is.  I found this story very difficult to read because of the pain central to this mis-understanding, and the pain of Rachel at being mis-treated because she was so terribly mis-understood.

But this theme, of mis-seeing someone, mis- understanding someone’s true character is a very, very common theme in our literature, in our television, in our movies.  In Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth’s misunderstanding of Darcy (and visa versa), Jane’s misunderstanding of Bingley’s sisters, and everyone’s misunderstanding of Wickham make up the drama of the story line: all of which, again, are only resolved at the end.  In the movie Run Away Bride, the Julia Robert’s character is misunderstood by everyone, herself included.  Many of our stories involve someone being lifted up as a hero who really isn’t. Others involve judgement and condemnation on someone who doesn’t deserve it.  It is everywhere.  I’m sure you can think of many stories in which people are simply misunderstood, their motives and their actions read wrongly.  Their personhood or identity is read as something other than what it is.  And I believe that this is so central in our books because it is a very common experience that all of us have.  I am certain that everyone here could tell of at least one time in your life when your actions were completely misunderstood or misinterpreted, and undoubtedly this had results for you, many of which were probably unpleasant.

We experience the damage of these misunderstandings in our own lives, and yet I think we still tend to act on our own mis-interpretations of others at a smaller level on a daily basis.  We determine that the person next to us who made a mistake driving in the car is a jerk or an idiot.  We decide the sales person on the phone who can’t give us a lower price is greedy.  We see a person with their shirt half untucked and we decide they are a slob.  We assume a pregnant teenager is loose.  On a daily basis we all make snap judgments of others that do not allow us to really see who people are. 

I think this is common for two reasons.  First, we try to understand people by putting people into categories, setting up images of each person in our minds about who they are and what they are like in an effort to understand our world and to relate to it in a way that makes sense.  We all do this.  From a scientific perspective, we can’t make sense of the many images and bits of information that come at us all the time unless we somehow categorize and sort through the information, and we do this with the characters of the people we meet as well.  That person is a care-taker or that person is a cynic or that person is a little off their rocker.  These are ways in which we make sense of our world, try to gain a handle on who the people around us are, and determine how we want to interact with them, respond to them, engage them.

Second, despite our efforts to understand and box people, the reality is that people are very complex.  So, it is easy to get our judgments about people’s motivations for certain behaviors wrong because people rarely do anything for only one reason, or for a simple reason that can be easily understood and summed up.

Putting together that we are quick to make judgments about why people do what they do alongside with the fact that there are usually multiple reasons why a person does what they do, and we end up, in many instances with a false understanding of the people around us.

We’ve all been a victim of this at one time or another.  And chances are, we’ve all been mistaken in our understanding of others at one time or another.

This is about identity.  And so now I’d like to ask you to think about your own identity again for a moment.  Who are you at your basic core?  Who is it that God has called you to be?  When are you most fully yourself? 

Can you think of a moment or a time when you were most fully yourself: when you were the most whole, most God-following person, most you at your deepest core?  What did that feel like?  As you journey through your life do those moments come more or less often for you?  Are there certain situations that bring this out of you? 

One of my favorite movies is the Edward Norton film, Keeping the faith.  I shared with you last month a scene from this movie between the young priest and his mentor in which he was struggling with his call and whether or not he should stay a priest.  But there is another part that precedes that scene that takes place between the young priest and the woman friend he fell in love with.  She does not return his affections, but he still struggles with what it means for who he is at his core to love her.  He said to her, “I don’t know which feels worse: having my heart-broken, or starting to doubt myself because of what that means for me.”

She responded, “Don’t you dare doubt yourself because of me.  You have a gift and you know it.  If you start to doubt that because of me, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

And then Brian answered, “I don’t doubt myself because of you.  I feel like the best version of myself around you and that makes me doubt everything else.”

Where are we the best versions of ourselves?  When are we the best versions of ourselves? What does it mean to be the best version of your?  Who is it you, at your core, feel called to be?  This is different from the question of what you are called to DO.  This is about identity.  This is about who God has made you to be in your core, in your private moments, in your thoughts and your feelings as well as your actions.  Where do you feel most centered, most whole, most true to yourself and to God?  Do you pay attention to where and when and with whom you feel most yourself?  Most whole?  Most real?

Of course, part of our identity does involve what we do.  Our choices in thoughts, words and actions, who we choose as friends, how we treat those who have less power and resources: all of that says a great deal about who we are.  And what we do for a living, as well as in our daily life are an important part of that.  If our jobs are a real vocation for us then that is a prime part of our identity.  If our relationships are central to who we are, then that is central to our identity.  If our words and what we produce come from a place of call, then that is central to our identity.  For many of us we are defined by our roles as workers of whatever kind, also as parents, as a spouse, as a Christian - whatever it is that tugs at your heart and calls from you all of your being.  But then, what happens when something changes?  What happens to someone whose primary identity is as a parent when a child dies, or someone who is first and foremost a husband or wife when a divorce happens, or to someone whose identity is so connected to their work when they have to change a career or even when they retire?  These things can be devastating not only because they are stressful, but because they challenge our very identity.

All of today’s scriptural passages talk about identity, though it may be hard to see.  In the story of Moses talking to God, Moses’ face is changed by the conversation he has with God.  It becomes shiny, we are told, in a way that scares the people around him enough that he finds it necessary to hide his face behind a veil.  To me, this is a story that emphasizes that when we are closest to God (and I believe that the closer we are to God, the closer we are to our true selves, to our true identity) people around us see that.  It changes how we look, changes how others see us, changes how we present ourselves and how others perceive us.  I think about how many women glow during pregnancy: the joy of carrying another life can change how we move in the world.  Also when someone is passionate about something, it is not uncommon to see them glowing with that excitement, or radiating enthusiasm while they talk about it or while they live it. 

The passage from Corinthians talks about the veils we put on our own hearts, the ways in which we hide.  And to me, this is a hiding not only from others, but from ourselves as well.  We are called to work on removing those veils so that we can be most genuinely ourselves.  Those veils are sometimes easier to see in other people.  The ways people put on speech patterns for particular jobs, for example, is often a way of “veiling” who they are.  Without any real words at all, I am certain if I were to mock the speech patters of newscasters for example, or flight attendants giving the safety speech, you would know what profession I was acting out.  My daughter wrote a scene for her school musical theater performance in which she substituted colors for real words and gave an entire dialogue in which there was no question what she was saying because of the way she said it, the way she used her words, the tone of her speech.  In that case it was just a conversation.  But we have affected speech patterns in many of our professions.  Many pastors, for example, have very specific preaching or speech patterns.  Some have particular phrasings or words that put a person in a specific category.  You can tell where a pastor stands theologically, for example, when their prayer beings, “Father, we just want to thank you, Lord…”  You can assume a whole mess of stuff about the person when they begin that way.  But is any of it true to the base identity of who someone is?  These recognized speech patterns or phrases: these are veils: They are things we put them on.  They are not who we are.

And finally we have the scriptural story of Jesus’ transfiguration: a moment, a time, when Jesus was completely seen as he was, like Moses, with the glory of God shining from him and on him.  For just a moment, he is seen in his greatness by his closest friends.  They are given the gift of seeing who and how Jesus truly is.  And their reaction is to be afraid.  Why?  Partly because when a person is seen as they really are, they can’t be completely boxed, which means they can’t be completely understood.  The disciples don’t understand what they are seeing, and that is scary for them, and would be scary for any of us.  Of course, the other part of this is that Jesus’ identity was so far beyond what they expected, that it was scary in this way as well. 

But real identity is scary.  The core of who we are, I would say, not just for Jesus, but for us too, is something difficult to present, something difficult to claim, difficult to comprehend, something we are constantly working towards, journeying into.  More than that, our true identities, below all the social niceties and roles, are powerful.  They are close to God, they lack fear, they can speak truth, and do what is necessary to make changes in the world.  God calls us to make that journey into being our genuine selves.  God wants us to be the most “us” that we can be; the most true to ourselves, the most real.  God wants us to be the us that God intends us to be.

But for today, as we think about Jesus and as we think about who we are called to be, my challenge for you is not just to intentionally walk that journey, but also to remember that when you talk to someone, when you drive next to someone, when you interact with anyone, strive to remember that you are not seeing all of who they are, you are not getting the full picture, and that helping someone else to walk towards wholeness involves looking deeper, for who they really are, while knowing you won’t see it all, looking for the best in them.

I think coming into our true natures is something like recognizing that our real natures can move mountains.  Our real beings, through love, kindness, grace and compassion can make a difference.  We don’t have to fight to change the world when we are whole.  Just being the people we are intended to be can and will change the world.  Amen.