The Ability to Affect Change in Those We Encounter

       As I mentioned in my sermon last Sunday, my son and I have been watching MASH episodes.  I have always enjoyed the show and I continue to do so.  But I'm also seeing them from a slightly different perspective as I grow and become older.  While the sexist and demeaning remarks of the men in the show towards the nurses used to be funny to me (and that was their intention), they now bother me a lot more as I see them for what they are: harrassing, objectifying, and again, extremely sexist.  At the same time, these attitudes expressed in the show do improve as the show progresses through time.  Additionally, the women become less of an "accessory" and more central to the show.  Margaret's character, in particular, moves from a one-dimensional, unintelligent sex-object into a real person who is not only powerful and strong, but also confronts some of these attitudes that come her way.  I woke up this morning thinking about the ways in which her character not only challenges the behaviors of those around her, but actually makes a difference in who they are, in the ways they treat her, and possibly all those around them.  This happens many times, more so as the show progresses, but there are three times in which it especially stands out for me.
        In Season 5, Episode 19, "Hepatitus", Hawkeye has to give Margaret a shot for hepatitus.  These shots are to be given in one's rear end and Hawkeye litters the conversation with these objectifying remarks.  But Margaret ends the scene with these words:
        "How dare you! You come in here on the pretext of giving me a shot and then stand there ogling me as thought I were a side show attraction!"
        "Margaret, I'm trying to show you some appreciation and you hit the roof!  What do you want from me?"
        "Respect.  Simple respect.  I expect nothing more, and I'll accept nothing less."
         Hawkeye looks like he's been hit.  He looks like her words impacted him in a way that nothing else in their relationship had up until that point.  And he shows this to be true by his response when he then says: "That's pretty good.  You got me with that.  You really did.  You know in some ways you really are magnificent, and not just on the outside."
       In season 10, episode 5, "Wheelers and Dealers," BJ is struggling because his wife at home is having to go to work to pay some of their bills.  He is extremely upset and is acting out by being unkind to everyone around him.  Eventually he gives Hawkeye and Margaret a lecture explaining how they can't possibly understand his suffering because they don't have a family at home.  Margaret comes back at him with these words: "How dare you!  How dare you stand there acting like your brand of suffering is worse than anybody else's!  Well, I guess that's the only way you can justify treating the rest of us like dirt.  Well let me tell you something, sad sack!  If the worse thing that has happened to you is that your pretty little wife has to help pay the bills for a while don't come to me for sympathy.  Maybe you do have the most to lose.  But that's only because you've got the most!"  And again, we see that BJ hears her.  He brings a gift to his friends of cookies that his wife made and as he shares them he says, "I'm still full from last night's serving of humble pie."
      Finally, in season 8 episode 14, "Stars and Stripes" Margaret is having a romance with Scully until he dismisses her work and her profession as unimportant, less-than, and almost "play acting."  He says, "You're a nurse.  Being a major is an honorary thing, so you can boss around a bunch of nurses.  But not real soldiers."
      Margaret responds with "Is that so?  Well, let me tell you something, Private. I'm damn proud of these." (pointing at her major pin)  "Nobody gave these to me.  I earned them. And I'm just as much a major as any other major.  You'll notice these leaves come in gold.  Not pink for girls and blue for boys."
      And then later when they have another conversation in which he is again trying to put her back into the singular role of subservient woman, she says, "You take it for granted that everything you want is yours.  What about what I want?  What do you suppose I am deep down?  I'm me: sometimes a nurse, sometimes a major, sometimes a woman in love, sometimes all three at once... and sometimes that's lonely. Cooking eggs and playing house used to be fine for an afternoon.  But now I want more out of my life than an afternoon..."  Scully leaves.  Perhaps she doesn't change him with her words this time, but my guess is that she does: it just takes longer for those words to have an impact, to make it inside to that place where he might become a bit more self-reflective and might grow and learn a bit.
     There are other times too, when Margaret is able to truly impact those around her, with her strength, and with her wisdom.  Since this is a TV show, I have found myself wondering, more realistically, how many people the character's words actually affected through the airing of these thoughts, ideas, beliefs and even values.
      I think for me, that ability to make a difference, to change ourselves, but through that to impact others in ways that help them to be kinder, more self-reflective, more understanding, more compassionate, more grace-filled - that is my deepest goal and hope.  This isn't really measurable.  I will never know if my words have impacted or changed others.  My life is small, the ways in which I affect the larger world are small.  I will never know if I have been able to make a difference in the lives of those around me.  But it is my goal, my hope, that my impact in this world is positive, and makes change for the better.
      At the same time, I had someone remind me today that we pastors are not the "source" but are the medium, like a river bed, for the river to flow through.  That our goal, really, should be to move ourselves out of the way so that the river can flow through us to those we encounter.  While it can be hard to put our egos aside, any goal that lifts up our own success or our own ability to make a difference is not following that deeper call from God.  So, I am trying to sit into this, to listen to those words of wisdom and to move myself out of the way.  Still, I think God works through us, no matter our flaws and our humanity, whenever we are open to God, and whenever our intentions aim towards Love.  I will continue to value the character of Margaret in MASH because she is able to change her world for the better.  It is something I would wish for all of us; that we can become the mirrors reflecting the Light, that we can become the arms, holding one another in love; that we can become the river bed, a shute for a river of compassion, grace and justice to flow through us into a broken and hurting world.

Taking Care During Times of Crisis

        As most of you know, our family crashed into devastating, life-changing crisis at the very end of 2010, a crisis that lingered and continued really until early 2013 when we started to finally get a grip on a "new normal" and settle into lives that were different, but were starting to feel okay.  Many people during and after that time asked me how we survived it.  I look back and the answers are really clear to me:
    1.  I had a great deal of support from friends, counselors, family.  I relied on that heavily, calling, emailing, and spending time with people who were there to help.
    2.  I played the piano almost every day.  Yes, it was part of my job, but it became much more than that.  It was an emotional outlet for me, a way of expressing feelings I couldn't otherwise even name, a way to "create" out of chaos and express out of dark pain.
    3.  I danced with my daughter.  Every morning as we were getting ready for school, we would put in music after her older siblings had left for school and my daughter and I would dance around the kitchen and family room.  This too was creative expression, as was the music.  But this was a time also of engagement with my beloved child, exercise, time together, an outlet, and an opportunity for a lot of laughter.  This also often involved singing, stretching those vocal chords and making joyful noise, despite how we were actually feeling on a day to day basis.
    4.  I wrote.  I journaled, mostly in the form of letters to God: I put everything down that I was experiencing, used it as prayer time, talked to God about my feelings, my thoughts and experiences and what I was going through.
    5.  I walked.  Sometimes alone, sometimes with others, I hiked and got myself out in nature and into the air, breathed, surrounded myself with creation.
    6.  I slept.  I went to bed by nine every night.  I often took long naps on the weekends.  I needed the sleep to process.  But more, I was just exhausted from trying to hold myself and my kids together, and I needed that extra time to recoup.
    7.  I spent time each day reflecting on the good things that were in my life, reaching out with thank yous to those who had been helpful, expressed gratitude, both to God and to people for their presence in my life.
    8. I found myself searching for and finding ways to give back, to offer care to others, to find meaning in being a helper, a pastor, in the world.  I would add to this that the fact that my kids really needed me to be okay, to help them through the crisis, to support them through the trauma, was absolutely essential to my well-being.  It wasn't an option for me to NOT be okay.  I had to get through each day, for their sakes, and so I did.  Having others dependent on me gave me the strong sense of not having a choice about if or how I handled the trauma.
    9. There were also a lot of things I stopped doing during this time: I didn't watch TV.  I completely stopped listening to the news.  I didn't engage Facebook, and even closed down my account.  I didn't eat junk.  And I think that all of these things I didn't do were as important for me getting through that crisis as everything that I did do.
    But the thing that I want to say about all of this is that, at least for the first 6 months to a year, none of these things that I chose to do or chose to avoid were conscious decisions.  I automatically did these things, out of what felt like necessity or compulsion.  I needed to do them and I did.  They helped me to not only survive, but to thrive through the challenges that we faced: to grow, to bloom, to become a person I am much happier being.  It was only after I was beginning to really recover that I started reading about the gifts of choosing gratitude, of exercise, of writing, singing, dancing in times of crisis.  It was only after I started feeling a "new normal" that I learned that TV is a depressant and should be avoided when we are struggling, and that it is important during trauma to step away from the news.  It was only later that I learned that extra sleep is essential during traumatic times and that I remembered how eating well makes a huge difference to one's emotional as well as physical health.  It is only recently that I've found myself focusing on the importance of art and laughter in dealing with trauma, whether that be making music, dancing or creating art in other forms.  And I remembered that it is in giving back to others that we help ourselves the very most.
     Now we are all in crisis, in trauma time again.  And I find myself once again choosing behaviors, almost despite myself, that are survival tools.  I find myself daily being called to go "play in the dirt" - to be outside gardening, digging around, breathing the air, exercising.  I am walking and doing yoga.  I am again intentionally spending time with my kids, baking healthy foods (and sometimes comfort foods), finding funny things to share.  I am limiting my time with the news again, as well as with Facebook (as much as my work will allow).  The TV holds much less attraction for me than normal, and I am writing: daily notes to my congregation but also in my journal.  I'm reaching out to people once more for support.  I'm sleeping more than usual.  I'm being more generous with my resources, especially to those most in need.  And I'm trying to find time to make music with my kids.  Once more I am aware that they need me to be okay through this (as does the congregation) and so it is not a option I can choose to NOT be okay.
      As I reflected on all of this, I was struck with how strong my inner survival instinct really is, or from a faith perspective, how loud the leading of God was that led me on a daily basis to choose healthy, necessary behaviors.  I do what I need to do to make it through this time, or any crisis time.  I wonder that I can't continue in these healthy behaviors during normal times and I am aware that my life would undoubtedly be better if I could keep these up during normal times.  But I am amazed at how strong the pull is, in crisis times, to choose these healthier and important ways of moving through life.  Again, from a faith perspective, this is one of the reasons why my faith and trust in a loving God is so strong.  I hear that voice, constantly, urging me to do what will be best for myself, my family and the larger community and world.  It encourages wholeness and well-being for everyone, no matter what is going on that is disruptive and painful.  It reminds me daily of our interconnection and need for all of us to work for health and wholeness for everyone.
      I hope that you, too, are finding yourself doing the things that you need to do to move through this time.  If you need help, we are here to support and offer suggestions.  But I think the biggest advise I would give is to notice your own choices.  What are you feeling impelled or compelled to do?  What does that small voice encourage you to do to take care of yourself, your loved ones and the world?  How are you surviving and even thriving through each day?  And what is guiding those decisions that you make?
      These are not easy times.  But difficult times are fertile ground for deep learning and deep connecting with God and creation.  Take time to rest in that, to learn from this time, to be open to what life is telling us this day.

Healing in Many Forms

Acts 3:1-10

Mark 10:17-31

            What things did Jesus do in his ministry?  Teaching, preaching and healing.  Why healing? 

            Jesus, and then as we hear in today’s story from Acts, the disciples, spent a lot of time touching, caring for, listening to, and engaging people that other people rejected.  Those with leprosy were outcasts.  They couldn’t live with their families and it was assumed that someone in their family or the person themself, must have done something wrong and that is why this person was sick.  Disease was seen as punishment.  Some people still have this thinking but they call it Karma.  While some have a different understanding of what Karma is (so I’m not knocking the idea itself), others believe that while it may not be clear why some suffer and others don’t, they must have done something to deserve it, either in this life or in a past life.  But Jesus first confronted it with words like “the rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous.” and “He replied, “Do you think the suffering of these … proves that they were more sinful than all the others?  No, I tell you!”  But he went much further than just declaring that it wasn’t their fault that they were afflicted.

            He touched, he talked to and he healed any who were in need – the rejected, the outcast, the condemned, the judged, the dismissed.  He made contact with them, included them, treated them as the incredible and beautiful people that they were, regardless of how others treated them.

            I have a ten dollar bill here.  If I mangle it and squish it and stomp on it, if I make it dirty or even filthy, what is it then worth?  It is still worth ten dollars.  The appearance, the condition, the outward attributes of this money don’t change it’s worth.  Well, Jesus was able to see that this is the same with people.  He saw beyond the outside of the bill.  He saw beyond the dirt, the scrounge, the disease.  He saw beyond the vocations, the judgments, the rejections.  He saw beyond their mistakes, their sins, their choices.  He saw beyond all of that to who they WERE.  And who they were is the same as who you are – you are a child of God.  Worthy of infinite value. 

            But just as we still look at the monetary numbers stamped on this bill to know its value, people get very confused about what is really important.  We are not worth whatever monetary value we might be given.  We are not worth whatever value someone else assigns us.  We get confused about what things determine value, about what really matters, about what value is…until those we love or ourselves are threatened in our bodies, threatened in our health.  We think that silver and gold – money, is what is important and we think that our money, and having “enough” money is more important than healing, more important than living.  We think success is more important than connections and community and fellowship.  We think fame, or fortune or what we have are more important than relationship and kindness.  We think that having a “good time” and even being happy are more important than finding wholeness and well-being, finding peace.

But sometimes even in the midst of physical or other kinds of crisis, we think it’s easier to throw money at a problem rather than addressing it.  In the story from Acts that we heard today, the crippled man expected to be handed money to deal with his problems.  That is not what Peter chose to do.  He gave the greater gift of healing.  As my Ohio lectionary group was discussing this passage this month, we were talking about the fact that when someone asks for help, whether they come to the church or approach us as individuals, in many ways it is the EASY thing to do to give them money.  Sometimes they really do need money.  But we are also and primarily called to give the harder thing, the more needed thing - to offer healing.  One of our group said, “Well, I’m not a healer!”  This is a woman who has worked tirelessly with the disenfranchised in our communities.  She has been an advocate for people struggling with addictions, with abandonment by family because of their sexual orientations, for the homeless and the poor.  She builds relationships with these people, she helps them get their stuff together, to land on their feet, to know they are LOVED, and to heal their families rejections.  She gives them a home, a church, awareness of God’s deep caring, food and true community.  And while she could not see it, it was obvious to me that she IS a healer.  She does the same kind of healing that Jesus did again and again.  We are called to this as well.  When we do the laundry program, one of the big pieces of our work that our mission chair David emphasizes is the importance of conversation with the folk who come in.  Just paying for their laundry is not enough.  It is a start, but what is much more important, much more valuable is forming relationships, is talking with them, is creating a place where they know they are valued.  What they really need is healing. 

We have some choices to be made as a country right now.  In some ways the choice is between healing and money.  Of course it is not that simple.  People with the most money are the ones most likely to be healed, so when jobs disappear, healing disappears too.  But there is a bigger issue.  The ones pushing for reopening of everything are the ones least likely to be impacted, hit, to have the disease and especially to die from it.  They can afford to reopen, just as they can afford to stay closed.  Once again the ones suffering the most are those who are poor.  And if anything this disease is shining a light on the much much deeper disease of greed.  That, too, is a disease we are called to strive to heal: and not through paying the rich more money or taking what little the poor have away from them. 

In the New Testament story for today, Jesus’ healing looks like freeing the rich man from his money, from his greed.  This was not a healing that the rich man wanted.  But it was the healing the Jesus was offering: a much more complete healing.  The healing of his soul.

            I was watching a MASH episode with my son last Sunday.  The episode is called Blood Brothers and in it, one of the patients is trying to help and support his friend who is very ill and needs blood.  In testing to see if he could donate blood to his friend who is ill, the doctors discover that the patient who is trying to help actually has Leukemia.  When the patient is told, he makes the choice to stay at the MASH unit to be with the friend who needed his support in the first place.  Hawkeye wants him to go to Tokyo for treatment.  But he insists on staying behind.  As he says, “My being here is helping Dan.  Seems to me I have a right to do what I want with the time I have left.”

While all of this is happening, Father Mulcahy  is having his own crisis because the Cardinal is visiting and Father Mulcahy desperately wants to impress him.  He desperately wants this mans’ approval, but because of the timing of the Cardinal’s visit, Father Mulcahy doesn’t have a sermon ready, the whole camp is acting out with gambling and drinking and he has spent all night up with the boy who’s been diagnosed with Leukemia.  But he goes to give his sermon and says this, “Well, here we are.  It’s Sunday again.  I’m sure you’ve all come expecting to hear a sermon.  I have to admit I’m not as prepared as I’d like to be…. You see I was working on my sermon, which I’d hoped would be particularly inspirational in honor of the cardinal but I was called away and I never got back to it.  So, if you’ll just bear with me, I’d like to share the reason why.  I want to tell you about two men, each facing his own crisis. The first man you know well.  The second is a patient here.  Well, the first man thought he was facing a crisis, but what he was really doing was trying to impress someone.  He was looking for recognition, encouragement, a pat on the back.  And whenever that recognition seemed threatened, he acted rather childishly.  He blamed everyone for his problems accept for himself because he was only thinking of himself.  But the second man was confronted by the greatest crisis mortal man can face: the loss of his life.  I think you’ll agree the second man had every right to be selfish, but instead he chose to think not of himself but of a brother.  And when the first man saw the dignity and selflessness of the second man, he realized how petty and selfish he… I… I had been.  It made me see something more clearly than I’d ever seen before.  God didn’t put us here for that pat on the back.  He created us so he could be here himself , so that he could exist in the lives of those he created in his image.”

            I came across an article in Sojourner’s Magazine that was talking about Henri Nouwen.  Henri Nouwen was an amazingly gifted priest, professor and writer.  I love his books, I love the way he thinks.  He has a brilliant as well as deeply faithful and spiritual mind.  But after teaching for many years, he was invited to become pastor to a community of people with intellectual disabilities.  He soon discovered that they didn’t care how brilliant he was, and all the wonderful things he had written and taught just didn’t mean that much to them.  He told the story in one of his books, Life of the Beloved, of one particular woman, Janet, who one day asked Henri for a blessing.  When he tried to bless her with the sign of the cross on her forehead she became very upset and said, “No, I want a real blessing!”  He didn’t know what to do with that, but that evening at worship, he mentioned that Janet had asked for a real blessing and she marched up to the front and gave him a huge hug.  In that moment, he found the words that were needed.  “Janet, I want you to know that you are God’s beloved daughter.  You are precious in God’s eyes.  Your beautiful smile, your kindness to the people in your house, and all the good things you do show us what a beautiful human being you are.  I know you feel a little low these days and that there is some sadness in your heart, but I want you to remember who you are: a very special person, deeply loved by God and all the people who are here with you.”  She gave him a satisfied smile, but as Nouwen then turned away, he found himself bombarded with the others in the community also asking for blessings.  Henri gave each a hug and affirmation that they are loved as they are.  And Henri walked away a changed man.

            There is a praise song with these words, “This is what I’m sure of, I can only show love When I really know how loved I am. When it overtakes me, Then it animates me, Flowing from my heart into my hands.”

Frederick Buechner said this about healing:

The Gospels depict Jesus as having spent a surprising amount of time healing people… 

This is entirely compatible, of course, with the Hebrew view of man as a psychosomatic unity, an individual amalgam of body and soul whereby if either goes wrong, the other is affected.  It is significant also that the Greek verb sozo was used in Jesus’ day to mean both to save and to heal, and soter could signify either savior or physician. 

Ever since the time of Jesus, healing has been part of the Christian tradition.  In this century it has usually been associated with religious quackery or the lunatic fringe, but as the psychosomatic dimension of disease has come to be taken more and more seriously by medical science it has regained some of its former respectability.  How nice for God to have this support at last.

Jesus is reported to have made the blind see and the lame walk, and over the centuries countless miraculous healings have been claimed in his name…  You can always give it a try.  Pray for healing.  If it’s somebody else’s healing you’re praying for, you can try at the same time laying your hands on him as Jesus sometimes did.  If his sickness involves his body as well as his soul, then God may be able to use your inept hands as well as your inept faith to heal him.  If you feel like a fool as you are doing this, don’t let it throw you.  You are a fool of course, only not a damned fool for a change….If God doesn’t seem to be giving you what you ask, maybe he’s giving you something else.”

            Jesus not only healed bodies of the outcast, of the oppressed, of the disadvantaged, of the physically broken.  He healed their souls by showing them, reminding them, acting in a way that said beyond a doubt that they were loved and valued, that they were worthy, that God still saw them as more important and beautiful than anything they could imagine.  We are invited to do the same.  As we are called to follow, we heal others by showing them how loved they are.  Go into the world, affirming, uplifting, and healing one another.  Amen.

Jokes and sermon for Humor Sunday

Jokes for Humor Sunday, 2020
     A man went to the movies and was surprised to find a woman with a big collie sitting in front of him.  Even more amazing was the fact that the dog always laughed in the right places through the comedy.  “Excuse me,” the man said to the woman, “but I think it’s astounding that your dog enjoys the movie so much.” “I’m surprised myself,” she replied.  “He hated the book.”  

      The Spanish king has been quarantined on his private jet.  This means that the reign in Spain will stay mainly on the plane.
       Never believe anything an atom tells you.  They make up everything!  

        A man tried to sell me a coffin today.  I told him that's the last thing I need. 

        What's the opposite of Irony?   Wrinkly

         In the foyer of a church, a young boy was looking at a plaque with names of men and women who had died in various wars.  He asked the pastor "Who are these people?"  The Pastor said "These are members from our church who died in service."  The boy asked, "The early service or the second service?"   

      Half of us are going to come out of this quarantine as amazing cooks!  The other half will come out with a drinking problem.

        I used to spin that toilet paper like I was on Wheel of Fortune…now I turn it like I am cracking a safe! 

       I need to practice “social distancing’ from the refrigerator. 

       Still haven’t decided where to go for Easter…..the Living Room or the Bedroom. 

       Every few days try your jeans on to make sure they still fit!  Pajamas will have you believe all is well in the kingdom!
       Home schooling is going well..2 students suspended for fighting , 1 teacher fired for drinking on the job.
       I don’t think that anyone expected that when we changed our clocks back, we’d go from Standard Time to the “Twilight Zone”!
       This morning I saw my neighbor talking to her cat.  It was obvious she thought that her cat understood her.  I came into the house, told my dog and we laughed!
      Quarantine day 5…Went to the restaurant called the KITCHEN.  You have to gather all of the ingredients and make your own meal.  I have no clue how this place stays in business.
      My body has absorbed so much soap and disinfectant lately, that when I pee it cleans the toilet!
      I hope the weather is good tomorrow for my trip to Puerto Backyarda, I am getting tired of Casa Barbara and Los Livingroom!
     Classified Ad:  Single man with toilet paper seeks woman with hand-sanitizer  for good clean fun!
     Day 6.Homeschooling:  My child just said, “I hope I don’t have the same teacher next year.”

     Why didn’t Noah ever go fishing?  He only had two worms.

     If the schools are closed for too long, the parents are going to find a vaccine before the scientists.

My mother said I’d never amount to anything sitting on the couch and watching t.v. all day. And yet here I am, doing just that and saving the world.

     At Sunday School they were learning how God created everything, including human beings. Johnny was especially intent when the teacher told him how Eve was created out of one of Adam's ribs.  Later in the week his mother noticed him lying down as though he were ill, and said, "Johnny, what is the matter?"  Johnny responded, "I have pain in my side. I think I'm going to have a wife."

    It was Palm Sunday but because of a sore throat, 5-year-old Johnny stayed home from church with a sitter. When the family returned home, they were carrying several palm fronds. Johnny asked them what they were for.  "People held them over Jesus' head as he walked by," his father told him.       "Wouldn't you know it," Johnny fumed, "the one Sunday I don't go and he shows up."

     One Easter Sunday morning as the pastor was preaching a children's sermon, he reached into his bag of props and pulled out an egg. He pointed at the egg and asked the children, "What's in here?"

      "I know, I know!" a little boy exclaimed, "pantyhose!"

      The Sunday School teacher was describing that when Lot's wife looked back at Sodom she turned into a pillar of salt, when Bobby interrupted. "My mommy looked back once while she was driving," he announced, "and she turned into a telephone pole."

       Lot again... A father was reading Bible stories to his young son. He read, "The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city, but his wife looked back and was turned into a pillar of salt."  His son asked, "What happened to the flea?"

       Q: Where do Buddhists hide for a surprise birthday party?

       A: In the present!

       An old football player dies and goes to heaven.  The angel at the gate says to him “now that you are in heaven, you can do anything you want. What would you like to do?’  The football player asks. I would love to play football again, may I?’  The Angel answers “yes, of course!  Just come to practice tomorrow, but we do not have numbers on the jerseys that way everyone is the same.”  So the football player goes to practice and he sees one player with the number 16 on his jersey.   The football player asks the angel “who is the person with the numbered jersey.”  And the angel answers “Oh that God, he thinks he is Joe Montana”



                                                            The Gifts of Laughter

               We come once again to Humor Sunday, the Sunday after Easter that was traditionally given over to jokes and humor and laughter.  The last joke was on death: even death held no sway in the end, even death, the one thing we can count on, was overturned.  Death was not king, death did not rule.  Love did.  And so we laugh and we remember that no matter what we think of life and the way things are supposed to go, it is all ultimately up to God what today or tomorrow will bring for us.  We who believe ourselves to be in charge, in control, have a lot to learn about life.

            While the psalms we read encourage joy, and laughter is a good way to get there, it is more than that.  There is also humor in the Bible.  Some of the stories are joyful, but others are downright funny.  Professor Hershey Friedman says that the different types of humor we find in scripture include, sarcasm, irony, wordplay, humorous names, humorous imagery, and humorous situations.  A couple of examples, when the Israelites were fleeing Egypt, they used sarcasm in confronting Moses by saying, “was there a lack of graves in Egypt that you took us away to die in the wilderness?”  In Samuel, Achish said to David, “Why did you bring him to me? Do I lack lunatics that you have brought this one to carry on insanely in my presence?"  Jesus says, “"You are like a person who picks a fly out of his drink and then swallows a camel".  Additionally, God names Isaac “laughter” – the one who leads us forward, who is our ancestor in faith is named “laughter”. 

            But we take a Sunday to laugh for other reasons: G.K. Chesterton once wrote: “Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly. Never forget that the devil fell by force of gravity. He who has the faith has the fun.” 

Laughter is a gift from God in so many ways.  It encourages us to not take ourselves so seriously, to remember that ultimately, we are not really in charge of anything.  Additionally, research shows that laughing actually has pain-reducing capacities, and it raises our pain threshold so we can tolerate pain better and we experience it less when we are laughing and for some time after a full, strong laugh.  It helps us learn – we learn better after a good laugh.  And it boosts our immune-enhancing capacities.  When we laugh fully and completely, we are said to “lose” it.  What we actually “lose” in those moments is our distraction of everything else – our distraction of our self-consciousness, our distractions of the stresses in our lives, we stop fleeing our stressing out and instead are completely present in the moment – and that moment, the NOW is where God is. 

I’ve shared with you before the article by Rev. Stephen Pieters who had a terminal illness which he kept at bay for years through laughter.  He was given 6 months to live, but he chose to watch reruns of “I love lucy” every day and 12 years later he was still alive. 

                Laughter has these innate healing qualities to them, not just physically but emotionally too.  I think that’s why when people are especially stressed out, they are more prone to laughter.  Have you ever been so stressed that suddenly everything struck you as hilarious and you found yourself rolling on the floor until those chuckles finally gave way to tears?  My kids will tell you this is a common experience for me.  When I can’t cry, when I’m too stressed out to cry or to scream or to do anything other than just function, when I refuse to take the time I need to process through the difficulties and challenges in my life, often my body forces me to emote through the gift of finding something utterly hilarious.  And I will start laughing and then be completely unable to stop until the tears are pouring down my cheeks and I find myself weeping instead. 

Laughter and tears: they are so closely related.  And I think both are the highest form of prayer.

In today’s New Testament lesson, we hear about the disciples inability to see Jesus among themselves.  They could not see him, though they walked with him and talked with him.  Our grief, our pain can block our vision.  But doing the basic things of life, eating, breaking bread – obviously, but I would also say crying and laughing also open our eyes.  Laughter eases our minds, breaks down our defenses, and causes us to hear, learn, grow, SEE in different ways.  One of the lessons we were taught at seminary was that if you really wanted people to hear something, make them laugh right before you say your most profound words.  Laughter opens us up.

In the Genesis passages that we read for today, we hear that there are different kinds of laughter.  Abraham laughs out of disbelief, but it doesn’t feel bitter to me.  It just feels like someone has said something so surprising and so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh.  Sarah’s laugh feels different.   Her laughter feels more like sarcasm – almost a bitter laughter, a “yeah right” kind of chuckle.  And this laughter God confronts, saying there is nothing that is beyond God, no matter how “absurd” it may seem.  But in the end, Sarah names her son laughter – and in this laughing it is delight.  It is the laughter of sarcasm and bitterness turned into the laughter of joy, of celebration.  Finally, we come to another story of Jesus’ resurrection.  And through it we are reminded that God has the final “laugh”.  And this time that laugh is on death itself.  Even that is overcome, to the surprise, to the joy, to the delight of God’s people and the disciples in particular.  The joke is on “evil”.  Good wins.  It is hilarious and wondrous and wonderful that just when death seemed to win and grab even Christ, that even death was overcome.  It is not just something to celebrate, this is something to truly delight in, to laugh about!  God is the God of the amazing, of healing, of joy, of laughter.  And today we celebrate that gift – we honor that gift by laughing with God, by enjoying life with God, by remembering that God won! 

Times are different

          Lately I've had many days when I feel that I've said everything that I need to say.  Well, not, perhaps to individuals.  There are people I would like to say things to.  There are people I'd like to apologize to, and others I'd like to just catch up with.  There are even a couple folk with whom I'd really like to have a "come to Jesus meeting" - people I'd like to speak truth to, telling them how those I've loved or even I myself have been affected by their actions.  I'd like to have the opportunity to be strong and fix untruths.  I'd like there to be a sense of "wholeness" or closure or reconciliation with a couple folk.  But those are all individuals.
         For some time now when I go to write a new sermon, I've found myself looking to old ones for help to know what to say.  And when I go to write on this blog, I look at old essays I've begun but never finished to try to see if there are any of those beginnings that are now calling to me to finish them.  And now, after a month of limited contact and "shelter in place" I am struggling to write emails to my congregants that boost them, that support them, that offer the love I feel for them each day and the dismay and absence I feel when we cannot be together.  I've said it repeatedly.  And now, there is nothing more, nothing left, nothing new to say.
        For those who know me well, the idea that I may have nothing to say... well, it's new.  I usually have way too many things to write, to think.  I have 150 pages of "sermon ideas" or illustrations for anything I might want to talk about.  I have beginnings of books, beginnings of blog posts, beginnings of emails just waiting to be finished, written, sent.  They were just waiting for me to have space and time.  I have that now.  Well, I have the space even if the time may be a bit illusive.  But when there is space, when there is time set aside for writing, for speaking, for creating, I find that new words do not come easily.  And when I read the words I've written, they sound like empty echoes of words I've spoken before.
         Perhaps creativity is also a victim of this time - at least for me.  For many people crisis encourages art, spurs on new thoughts, new reflections, and new ways of looking at things.  The last time I went through crisis, my writing became prolific, my thoughts were opened and writing was necessary in many ways to process through what was going on.  But maybe in part because I've done so much "crisis writing," this time round I have nothing new.  And maybe that's okay.
        I've encouraged my congregants to be gentle with themselves during this time, recognizing that our reactions to crisis are varied and that we all need time and space in crisis to grieve, to process, to rest and to just BE.  I've reminded them that we will process more slowly and that taking the time to walk through trauma is not only okay, but necessary and important.  So perhaps I need to offer myself that same kind of grace.  I also need to recognize that where I am today may look very different from where I will be tomorrow.
        Grace, offered to others, but also offered towards ourselves, is very important right now.  The world looks different.  So do we.  And that needs to be okay.  God offers great grace.  And we can learn to offer that to one another and ourselves as well.

A Different Kind of Easter

Mark 16:1-8

               This is a different kind of Easter, isn’t it?  Last week, Palm Sunday, felt different, and yet it was also familiar: a recognition that we had been in a time of anticipation, waiting, hoping, that then was met great change.  In the case of Palm Sunday, the people turned from hope to anger and persecution of Jesus.  For us, we turned from anticipation of good things into a time with virus, with isolation, with quarantine.  Good Friday felt perhaps even more familiar: the shock of things turned upside down, the shock of grief, of death, of despair: not knowing what the future would hold, not knowing if there was any hope at all.

               And then we come to today.  And while we usually think of Easter as a rousing celebration (and while we are doing our best to make it so, even though we are apart and watching this from our homes), the reality is that the original Easter was not like this.  What do we see here in today’s story?

               People are spread apart, they have run from one another and run from the situation.  Just a few women are left, and they go to the tomb not expecting a resurrection.  They have a particular image in mind which included caring for the dead body of Jesus, out of love, out of care.  But instead, they find an empty tomb.  And their reaction is not one of joyous celebration.  It is fear.  So, they run again, and, we are told, they spoke to no one about what they had seen and heard because they were afraid.  This was not the celebration that we usually practice at Easter.  It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t raucous.  It wasn’t people gathering with their families to eat and celebrate.  It wasn’t hunting for eggs or chocolate rabbits.  There was no triumphant and perfectly placed rendition of Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus.

Instead, “Overcome with terror and dread, they fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.”  Hm.  It has more in common with today than we’d like to admit, doesn’t it?  Like us, they didn’t know what to make of what they had been told.  They didn’t know how to understand what had happened in that tomb.  They did not have a vision into the future, into that day or the next day or what would happen after that.  While we, from our place now, can look back on that first Easter and while we place our hopes and our faith on that day, on that resurrection event which shows us a God who is not defeated by death, who loves us beyond death, who gives us everything in order that we might live and thrive and celebrate; that is not how they felt then.  The women must have been truly terrified.  Has Jesus really been raised from the dead?  And if so, what would that mean?  Roman Tyranny still existed, their lives were still hard.  What would Jesus do if he was back?  Had Jesus returned in order to judge them?  Would he wreak destruction on those who killed him?  Was the natural order of things now different?  Was this some terrible hoax or plot to wreak havoc on the community?  We can only imagine what they went through, but we know it was NOT the celebration that we have been practicing for the last 2000 years.  The entire gospel of Mark, in the original ends with the word “afraid”.  It is not a word of hope.  They could not afford hope. 

For many in our communities, this is also true.  For those who have lost work, for those who have no option of finding new work because they are required to stay in their homes, for those who have lost bread winners to this disease, for the poorest of our poor, “hope” is not a reality because it cannot be dared.  Our homeless people have nowhere to go: there is no sheltering in place for them because there is no place for them to shelter.  Our migrant workers across the world are without transportation now, many walking thousands of miles back to their homes.  There are undocumented people in every country who have no resources and no way to provide for their families during this time.  They are not looking for Easter but just food to eat and shelter for their kids. The truth is that hope is an experience of the privileged.  It is not a reality for those who suffer the most.  As a wise friend told me this week, while it is true that we are all on the same boat, we do not all stand in the same place.  Like with the Titanic, some of us are climbing into lifeboats, while others of us are drowning in the hold. 

And yet, even with all the similarities, there are still big differences.  I believe we are still, in so many ways in Good Friday.  Because we still don’t know what is coming, and we don’t yet, as those in the midst of crisis have a real reason to celebrate.  Unlike those who loved Jesus who believed the worst of it was Jesus’ death, we’ve been told that the worst in our crisis is yet to come, and we do not know what that will look like for our community, for our families, or for us as individuals.  Will we get sick?  Will our families get sick?  Will they survive it?  And beyond all of that, will there be work?  Will our communities recover economically?  What will they look like when all the dust has cleared?  How will we be and interact with one another once this is over? 

               In many ways we are still in Good Friday.  And, if you are like me, you don’t like it. 

I have found myself reflecting on that oh so wise part of Lord of the Rings where Frodo says to Gandalf “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.”

To which Gandalf replied, “So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

               This is the time we are given.  But we are Easter people.  We are resurrection people.  And so what that means is that the first thing we are called to do is to look for Easter, to look for the good, to look for GOD and God’s coming anew and God’s resurrection, even when we are suffering, even when we cannot feel the light and the hope in our own lives.   So, I want to start by showing you what I am seeing in terms of signs of Easter, signs of spring, signs of God’s resurrection and God’s ability to bring good out of evil, life out of death.  I think that has to start with the healing that I am seeing in the earth.  Did you know that in Shanghai and the most polluted areas of India, people are saying they can see the sky for the first time in many, many years?  We are not driving as much, we are not out creating the disastrous pollution as much, and the earth is responding to that space, it is responding with healing, with spring, with Easter.  We can breathe again.  We can hear the birds again.  We are seeing dolphins in the canals of Italy and goats on the streets of England, and mountain lions on our own paths in Clayton. 

               In addition to the Easter of our earth, we are also in the Easter of Unity.  We are sharing this experience of the virus, of global pandemic, of loss and grief with all those around the world.  And while at some level that is hard, at another level, it means that our world is now smaller, our world is much more connected.  We are being reminded in a concrete way of our deep connection to all life, and to people around the globe. Our worship services now are seen and experienced by people who do not live near us.  We are connecting to those who live far away as much as to those who are nearby.  It has made our world smaller, in a good way, as we remember our connections even to those in very different places.

               People who never prayed before are praying now: something is resurrected in people’s lives as people think through things in a different way.  People are more focused on healing, on caring for another, on connecting.  We are all waiting for the flood to recede.  40 days?  40 years?  We don’t know, but many understand at a much deeper level that we are experiencing this together, across our differences, and across our spatial boundaries.  I see people being kinder to one another on my walks.  I see people reaching out to care for one another, virtually and in other ways.  Neighbors are meeting neighbors for the first time in a long time.  I’ve heard many stories of communities coming together to offer virtual graduations, and in some cases (like at my daughter’s college), the community came together before all the young adults left for spring break, anticipating that they would not be returning, to celebrate those graduating this year.  They did not have to do that, the school itself did not offer this, but rather the community made their early leaving of school into a brief but meaningful celebration of those graduating, their families and their friends.

               I also see Easter in the way people are responding to what our experts, our scientists are telling us that we need to do.  People are sheltering in place, people are learning, growing and taking care of one another and themselves through this time.  Not everyone, but most people are.

               I saw a story this week posted by a friend on FB who gave me permission to share this.  She wrote,

“Most of you know what we endured to become pregnant with our second child.  Too many rounds of IUI to even remember.  Then, on to IVF, first round resulted in an ectopic pregnancy, and had to be terminated, what an emotional blow.  Round two, nothing.  Round 3, success!!!

I wouldn't wish IVF on my worst enemy.  Over the course of one year, there were hundreds of injections, blood tests, appointments, and an emotional roller-coaster.

My due date was January 14, with a C-section scheduled for January 4, 2005.

Plans changed.  On December 7, 2004, my blood pressure tanked and I passed out, luckily I was at the hospital for a non-stress test.  I started pre-term labor.  The medication used to stop labor made me pass out again.  Doctor told me I had to stay.  I thought she meant for the night.  Nope, for the duration! I had to stay in my hospital bed for 24 straight days, laying on my left side.  I was allowed a 3 minute shower each day, and quick trips to the bathroom.  I did not leave that room for 24 days.  My mom and husband brought my then 4 year old to see me, the highlights of my days.  I cried a lot.  I was missing Christmas with my family.  I missed the outside world, fresh air, friends, parties.  I kept telling myself that someday it would all be a distant memory, I would get through it.  And I did.

On December 31 (doctor took pity on me and let me get a tax break!), our beautiful little girl was born!  15 years later, I look back and smile.  It was all worth it.  I would have spent my entire pregnancy at the hospital if that is what it took.  Yes, it sucked while I was there, but I did it, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

When this shelter in place is over, and we define our new normal, we will be okay.  Looking at our fellow humans, and witnessing them living and breathing should be all the evidence we need to know it was worth it. It is what we do, what we are willing to sacrifice in order to attain the outcome we need.

Hang in there everyone, we will get there!”

We are doing what we need to do to care for ourselves, each other, and our communities.  And in that is a great sign of the resurrection of care, of love, and of kindness.

               The second thing we are called to do during this time is to remember the words of the angels, “Be Not Afraid.”  No, we don’t know what is coming.  We don’t know what tomorrow will look like for all of us or for the world.  But the words “Be Not Afraid” are in our scriptures 365 times: that’s one “be not afraid” for every day of the year.  And we are called to hold on to that.  No matter what we are going through, God is there with us in it.  No matter in life or in death, God is with us.  Resurrection is the embodiment of letting go of the fear and living in what is.  The words “Be not Afraid” are not a judgment on our fear.  They are an invitation to trust that we are not alone.

               Finally, we are also called to be that light, to be that resurrection .  That is what we are called to do with the time that we are given, to keep remembering and acting on the deep belief that we are all connected.  To take care of each other, especially the “least of these” who will have the hardest time recovering from this crisis is the work of being people of faith.  We have hope.  But we have to be careful that “hope” is not a way to controlling people into complacency, but instead is a call to make life better for EVERYONE.  The sign over the gates of the concentration camps saying, “work will set you free” did not prevent those working hard from being killed in the gas chambers.  We need to be people who bring genuine hope for change, for life, for even the poorest of the poor, who are also God’s children.  This can remind us that it is only in working together, across all differences that we will overcome. 

I’ve been reading story after story this week of people helping other people during this time.  Non-profits are raising extensive funds to help people with food, toiletries, sanitizers, housing and utilities.  Stores are setting up special hours for our most vulnerable to shop.  Communities have set moratoriums on evictions during this time and some organizations are waving fees for medical insurance payments.  People have been planning to send their government subsidies to help those who are hungry or struggling.  People are reaching out to neighbors to run errands and to do the shopping.  I read a story about fitness instructor who went on the roof of her building to offer fitness classes for those in the apartment complex across the street who can watch from their windows and participate in their own homes.  I’ve heard beautiful stories of people singing out their windows with the neighbors all singing from their own homes.  Our own Hope Solutions has continued to house people and put 13 new families in homes this last month.  And one of my friends told the story of sitting on his porch outside when he heard a neighbor yelling at her kids with the window open.  He sang at the top of his lung, “We are called to love one another! We are called to be kind to our children and our parents.  We are called to be patient and caring.”  And the yelling stopped.  In the midst of crisis, the signs of Easter, of new life, of resurrected kindness and connection abound.  We are called to be part of those stories, especially for those who are suffering the most.  We are called to allow the earth to remind us through this virus that when even one of us is sick, we are all at risk, and when even one of us is poor, we are all poorer, and when even one of us is hurting, we are all hurting. 

               The earth is in Easter, but we are not there yet on the whole.  But because of the original resurrection, we can trust in the promise that Easter will come for us, as it has come for the earth.  Resurrection and new life will come, even if it does not come today.  We know that grass will grow; that spring is just around the corner. 

This is our call.  Look for Easter today.  Wait for the Easter that will come tomorrow.  And help create Easter for our brothers and sisters around us both today, tomorrow and everyday.  God is there to help bring that Resurrection about.  That is the promise of this day.  Amen. 

As the crisis continues...

        I've been having bad dreams at night.  Not exactly nightmares, but disturbing dreams.  Most of them seem to center around relationships from the past, people who were once part of my life but aren't anymore.  Some of the dreams are fairly realistic: exploring what would happen if we met up again.  Others are completely unrealistic and travel down weird roads and situations that are just not realistic at all.  I know I'm not alone in having bad or disturbing dreams.  Other people have shared with me that this has been one of their experiences of this crisis time as well.
       Any trauma can bring up for us all the traumas of the past; any unknown time can bring up everything that was unsure, uneasy, or unresolved from the past; any time of fear can raise in us a need to try to heal or fix anything from our lives that has not been dealt with sufficiently.  I think that at some level, no matter what the crisis, trauma causes us to look at our mortality and to try to work through what we want dealt with before we leave this life.  Sometimes our dreams are a way to try to work through some of those things.  Sometimes dreams are invitations to look more closely in our waking hours at our past so we can walk with more confidence and wholeness into whatever future we may have for however long we may have it.  Maybe the challenges of this time, the traumas of this season are affecting you in different ways or manifesting for you in different ways, but for me, the challenges of today seem to be manifesting especially through disturbing dreams.
       As always with the things that challenge or disturb, I see in them a calling.  For me, one of the callings in this present disturbance is to do more real and important life work than maybe normal times allow us to do.  I see in my disturbing dreams an invitation for healing and reconciliation, a call to reach out to those I haven't spoken to in a while, a chance to really do some of the inner work, healing and peacemaking that we are always called to do as part of our human journeys.  I know there are some relationships that cannot be attended to.  I know there are some situations that it are best  turned over to God for healing.  I do believe that relationships that cannot be dealt with directly still can be healed within ourselves, and I also believe that God is active in healing all relationships when we are serious about doing that work.  Still, there are people who we might not have connected with in a long time, and this time may be an invitation to reach out.  And there are many relationships and situations that can be healed directly through conversation, the making of amends, the offering of apologies and forgiveness, and the work of grace.
      I find myself remembering the good about many people I haven't talked to in a long time.  I find I am missing folk I haven't been with in a long time.  Mostly, I am feeling incredibly grateful for all the people who have touched my life: some for a short time, some for a longer time, some for my life time. For all of you who have graced my journey, I am grateful.  I am grateful whether my time with you was for growing, was for learning or was for healing.  I am who I am because of my time with each of you.  I will grow into who I will be because of our interactions, whether they were positive or negative.  For all that you are and do and have done, I offer thanks.

Preparing for what is to come

Mark 11:1-11,

Mark 14:3-9

             We come once again, as we do every year, to Palm Sunday.  We know the basic message of Palm Sunday: the people expected a military king who would overthrow Roman Tyranny and restore Israel to its former glory.  Instead they were greeted by a humble king, a king of peace rather than violence, a king who called us to work for change in a different way, through the power of love rather than through the power of anger and hate.  The people didn’t understand this, didn’t want this and by the end of the week were so outraged that they killed him.  We know this story and it is important that we remember it.  But today I want to change the focus a little bit and instead talk about where you are, where we are, where the world is today, in light of the Palm Sunday message.

             How has this been for you as a Palm Sunday service?  There are no crowds processing into the church, there have been no large groups shouting “Hosanna!  Hosanna!” and waving their palm fronds.  There is no choir to celebrate this high holy day.  There are five of us in this sanctuary and we are not in a celebratory place in our lives.  We stand apart from one another, distant from each other, keeping space.  We are standing in the unknown, in a place and time of “social distancing”. 

             At the same time, I think the similarities between Palm Sunday and where we were before March of 2020 are striking.  When the people welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem, they had high expectations of one kind.  They had expectations and hopes for that day and frankly for the rest of their lives.  They believed that Jesus would make everything better.  They threw their cloaks on the road before him and shouted “Hosanna!”  or “Lord save us!” and they blessed him and honored him.  They set their hopes on Jesus that he would free them from government tyranny (by the Romans) and that they would then be free.  They expected that he would return Jerusalem to Jewish control, that he would renew their strength and power.  But Jesus wasn’t who they expected.  He was a leader who led by an example of love and grace rather than rage, violence and judgement.  He accepted those that the people rejected and he uplifted those others oppressed.  He focused his attention on the poorest of the poor, and called all of us to the task and the work of treating the least of these like the worthy humans that they are, caring for them, loving them. 

We are given a glimpse of this reality in the second gospel reading for this morning.  Jesus’ kindness and care for the woman who came to honor him with the perfume bottle was upsetting and disturbing to those who wanted him to act in a very different way.  It was upsetting because it was confronting the status quo, but not in the way those around him hoped.  He didn’t confront the Romans, but he did confront Jesus’ own religious leaders.  He didn’t lift up the Israel Elites into a position of even higher status, instead he confronted their leadership by challenging the ways in which they behaved towards their own people.  He confronted their values: throwing out the money changers from the temple, talking to women, Samaritans, those who were sick and damaged.  In the span of a week, the beliefs and hopes of all those who were hearing and seeing Jesus were flipped on their heads.  Their expectations for the future were completely destroyed and their reaction was much more than disappointment.  It was rage.  It was fear.  It was anxiety.  It became a desire for nothing less than his death, his crucifixion. 

             And us?  You and I?  Is this how we expected to spend our Palm Sunday?  Is this how we envisioned we would be at the beginning of Holy Week?  No.  Our expectations and hopes for our own future also looked different.  We were looking forward to time with our families, time with our friends, time to travel, time to gather for parties or festivals or even just to worship together.  We looked forward to eating out, going to the theater, walking together and gathering together for book groups, golf outings and bocce.  We looked forward to weddings, anniversary gatherings and birthdays together.  We were excited about graduations and time with kids or grandkids and theater events.

             We planned, we dreamed, we celebrated as they did on Palm Sunday.  We welcomed in each new day with hope and we looked towards the future with anticipation. 

             But we are no longer in that Palm Sunday place.  We have moved into the rest of Holy Week much more quickly than we would like.  Now things are different.  Things have changed; unexpectedly, quickly, and dramatically.  They continue to change.  What looked like a short time of isolation and social distancing is now increasing in length.  What looked like a potentially low risk and low mortality rate is now looking like a disease that spreads much more quickly and easily and has a much higher mortality rate than we at first believed.  Every day, it seems our disappointment with the current situation deepens, our anticipation of time together is pushed farther into the future, our hopes for a “return to normal” recede further and further away.  For this time, and for who knows how long, all of those things that we looked forward to have been put on hold, have been put into “wait and see” mode. 

I think about my own daughter.  Her birthday was two weeks ago.  And instead of going to see Hamilton (her birthday present from us), she stayed at home (the theater closed the day we were supposed to go).  And instead of the party we had planned for her and her friends at the trampoline place, she stayed at home.  And instead of spending time with her family, she was laid up in bed, sick, with a 102 degree temperature.  With what?  We don’t know.  And again, I realize this is a very small loss.  Whatever she was sick with, it has passed and she is back to being our healthy girl.  But that was her birthday.  One of pain, one of grief, one of fear…  Her anticipatory time of hopes and expectations and celebration was brief. 

For the rest of us, for those of us who really understand the situation and how serious and potentially dangerous it is, it is much more than disappointment that we are facing.  There is also fear.  Fear for our own health, fear for the health of loved ones; fear about the loss of work, for ourselves or our loved ones; fear for a future that is unknown.  We don’t know what is coming, and the fear that we have is real, is there for a reason. 

That combination of disappointment and fear, that combination of rage and anxiety is dangerous for us, because it can lead us to become the Good Friday people searching for someone to blame and lashing out with our anger.  It can cause us to turn 180 degrees from people who are celebrating life to people who are enraged and acting out our fear with violence and unkindness.  But we are always called to something better.  Yes, we need to confront problems, but baying for blood, turning to retaliation and damage of our neighbors is not the same thing as confronting problems in a helpful and positive way.

On NextDoor last week from a person posted that when he went to the local Safeway, he was standing behind a woman in line who turned and yelled “back off!  It’s the law!” He responded with, “Actually, it isn’t the law, but it is a kind thing to do, so I will step back to make you feel more comfortable.”  Apparently the woman who told him to back off became completely outraged, and was screaming obscenities, so the man chose not to engage it, left the line altogether, checked out somewhere else and walked to his car.  Then when he tried to back out of his parking spot, he found that the outraged woman had parked behind him and was still screaming obscenities at him.  Fortunately, he could pull forward out of his spot, but he soon found that this woman was following him home and at every stop sign and light was continuing to curse him out.  Finally, he called the police because he was afraid of this woman’s rage and even more afraid to drive all the way home and have this person learn where he lived.

We do not handle change well.  We do not handle our fears well.  We don’t know what to do with our anxiety or our discomfort.  We don’t know what to do with our disappointments and our grief for what was, what we hoped would be, what we envisioned our lives to be, for our hopes.  And the bigger the disappointment, the fear, the grief, the anxiety, the more we tend to act out, to lash out, to behave badly.   We do not handle humiliation and humbling well.  And yet we are given the example of Jesus, who’s integrity mitigated all humiliation.  He did not fight with violence or resistance against the powers that would destroy him and wanted to destroy him.  He did not turn to hate as a weapon, even against those who hated him.  He allowed them to do what he knew they would do and he kept his integrity, was not persuaded or pushed into becoming anything less that the godly man he was.  He chose to continue to be a person of love and forgiveness, of healing and grace, even when they beat him, even when they killed him, even when they spit on him and destroyed his body.  He knew that love would win, not in the way they expected, and not that day, but that it would win.

In his latest book, Finding Chika: A little Girl, an earthquake and the making of a family (New York: Random House Pub., 2019) Mitch Albom tells the story with this book of the little girl, Chika, who has a brain disease that eventually claims her life.  But before it claims her life, it takes from her, slowly over time, everything that she has: her ability to walk, her ability to talk, her ability to play and laugh and function as others do.  It takes her hair and her body shape and everything that makes Chika Chika.  At one point while Chika was still able to walk but her abilities were beginning to fail, Albom describes a scene where Chika was walking towards a doll and fell, and because she did not have the strength in that moment to get up and walk again, she simply crawled over to the doll and picked it up.  As Albom wrote, “As you played on the floor, accepting the new rules, your toughness far exceeded mine, and gave us comfort, even as we were trying to comfort you.” (page 133)  Chika did not let her impending death rob her of her grace, of her love of life, of her joy.

Martin Luther King Jr similarly took a stand for non-violence against the oppressive systems of power that had robbed African Americans of every shred of their dignity.  He would not allow them to damage his soul by forcing him to resort to violence or hate.  Instead, he chose actions that confronted the systems violence by showing a different way, a way of justice that was direct, but did not strip others of their humanity.  When threatened, MLK and his African American community stood without retaliation and chose something better.  When beaten, they stood, choosing love and grace and forgiveness over violence and rage.  When attacked again and again he chose his soul, and his faith, and his integrity, and was determined that those things would never be taken from him or his people. 

To be clear, we should never choose to tolerate injustice, we should never allow oppression or cruelty.  I am not saying that we should be passive in the face of what is wrong.  What I am saying is that one of the gifts of Palm Sunday is that Jesus demonstrated for us with all of his behaviors during Holy Week, that while people may take your body, that while people may inflict cruelty beyond measure onto your person, that it is up to us whether or not we allow the other to also take our souls.  We choose how we will react.  And while it is likely that no one would blame us for reacting to the disappointments, fears, griefs and angers of today with rage, with hatred, with violence, the choice to be moved into an action of hate in response to our suffering is a decision to give up all of who you are to the situations that would harm you.  That choice is a decision to allow whatever is happening to damage our spirits as well as our bodies.

             As we begin the Palm Sunday journey towards the cross, my invitation to you is to reflect on what makes you you, what are your true core values, and if they are the values Jesus asks you to hold, of Love, of peace, of grace, then how will you hold on to them in the face of this crisis or the next crisis or the one after that?  How will you respond in the face of other’s anger and rage and fear?  How will you react when your body is being threatened and you feel helpless and fearful?  How will you deal with this time of trial?  Will you still choose love?  Faith?  Grace?  My prayer for all of us is that as we walk towards the cross, we may understand the gifts of Jesus’ choices and choose to follow him in love.  For it is in Love that we will find our strength and overcome whatever it is that we are facing.