Some days…

     Sunday we continued our England travels by exploring the national parks of Exmoor and Dartmoor.  We stopped in Lynton, where most of our group spent their time shopping.  Of course, we took off, walking out to the Valley of the Rocks… incredible views!  

    We also saw a number of truly beautiful gardens on our way out of the city… all in people’s yards.  Afterwards we took the Lynton and Lynmouth Cliff Railway (which is “the highest and the steepest totally water powered railway in the world”) down to Lynmouth, a little village at the bottom of those cliffs.  We learned about the flood that came and destroyed the city, killing many and taking many homes into the ocean.  David and I continued to be a bit rebellious and while others were exploring cafes and grabbing lunch, we walked along the river to beautiful views of falls, flowers and small gardens.  We then headed to Porlock for lunch, but it being Sunday, everything was closed. So we went on and had a short stop in Minehead, which is a little larger community.  While the rest of our group again ate and shopped, we went on a search for gardens and found some lovely flower gardens. 

    Afterwards we spent the night at Bovey Castle.  We arrived there fairly late with just enough time to eat and go to bed and we left early yesterday morning for our Monday adventures.  It was a disappointment to all of us that we were there for just a few short hours.  For me, I’ve never stayed in a place so nice before and honestly felt a bit intimidated.  It was beautiful!

    Monday, yesterday, we only had one real stop: we went to Dorset for the things I was most looking forward to about this tour: we went to Athelhampton Manor and Gardens where we had high tea and then explored the manor and Elizabethan gardens.  We were given a tour of the manor by a highly educated historian.  He was interesting, but I started to panic when what was supposed to be an hour tour approached the second hour mark.  I didn’t want to listen anymore, as interesting as it was: I was worried there would not be enough time for the gardens, so I snuck out and went for a marvelous stroll in the gardens by myself, to be joined a half hour later by David who had stayed for the end of the house tour. Truly lovely.  

    Last night as well as this evening we stay in Evershot, a small village of 230 residents!!  But the grounds where we are staying are once again INCREDIBLE!

     The last two days were very good days for us!  

    But one of those two days was not such a good day for our bus driver.  Our driver has worked for tours for six years, and according to him, has never had problems.  But many of the roads he was driving on were TIGHT in their turns and extremely narrow, which meant that when we were faced with a car coming the other direction, sometimes there were real issues about which car would back up, how far, and how turns would be made at all by such a big coach.  Up until now, our driver has done fine. But yesterday as he moved way over towards the hedge wall to give enough room for a fast on-coming car to pass, there was an ominous crunching sound.  Sure enough, the hedge wall was hiding a brick wall which significantly scraped the bus. Then, as he went around one very steep curve, the back of the bus hit the ground and knocked loose a part of the rear fender.  Finally as we were on the M5, suddenly those of us near the front saw the blur of wings and heard a loud BAM as a pigeon flew into the windshield.  Our driver was beside himself.  But his day did not completely end there… The tour guide told him what room he was supposedly staying in at the hotel and told him to ask the front desk for the key.  He did so, was given the key, and when he opened the door to the room, he was greeted by a completely naked elderly woman just stepping out of the shower. He apologized in response to her screams, hastily shut the door, and went back to reception to find he was actually supposed to be in a different room.  Our driver could not figure out why everything in his day seemed pear-shaped. 

    What was a glorious day for us was a BAD day for him.  People can be in very close proximity to one another and yet have completely divergent experiences.  Those experiences tend to effect how we see and ultimately understand the world. Even when we are in the same space each person’s experience is vastly different and therefore effects our feelings and thoughts.  Is it any wonder that we have a hard time understanding one another?  Objectivity, while important, can be elusive for any of us.  For me, this so obvious example of people in the same situation experiencing the day in such opposing ways was a reminder to be more grace-filled towards those around me.  Much of the time we just don’t know what others are going through.

Jesus, the Unexpected

John 4:1-42

Psalm 42:1-3

Today we hear the story of the woman at the well.  It is a very familiar story, but I want to dig into the context just a little bit more for us today.  In this time of Jesus, the division between peoples, in particular between the Jews and Samaritans was very much like the growing divisions that we are seeing in our own country.  It was a time of great anxiety, just like it is now, and it was a time, just like now, when it was clear who “the enemy” was for any group of people.  Everyone knew which “side” of things they were on.  And they “KNEW” that the others were wrong.  This was so much the case that in today’s passage we read, in verse 9: “The Samaritan woman asked, ‘Why do you, a Jewish man, ask for something to drink from me, a Samaritan woman?’ (Jews and Samaritans didn’t associate with each other.)”  There was so much animosity that people simply did not cross the lines.  They did not associate with each other, they did not talk to each other.  And yet, here was Jesus talking to the Samaritan woman.  And the woman, to her credit, talked back.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again: we forget that we belong to one another.  We forget that we BELONG to one another.  You know that question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”  For people of faith the answer is, always, “YES.”  

I found myself remembering when we had our first “crossing the differences” conversation here.  And it was about low-income housing and rent control.  One of our visitors who attended that meeting made the comment, “I find no reason at all why we should take care of people who can’t take care of themselves.  We subsidize them whenever there is low-income housing.  The rest of us are subsidizing them.”  And I found myself thinking, once again, that this is the core difference between our culture and what our faith calls us to do and be.  We are absolutely called to care for those who “can’t take care of themselves.”  God never asks the question of whether or not their care is deserved.  NEVER.  Jesus, when he offers healing, and help, and food, NEVER asks about whether or not it is deserved.  Instead, God’s question is always about what the other needs.  As people with families we understand this.  If our child were hungry, it would never be a question on our mind to ask if they deserved to eat that day or if they deserved to have a warm bed to sleep in.  We provide because they are our family and we love them.  We provide because they belong to us and we belong to them.  That call to remember that everyone else is our brother, is our sister, belongs to us, that is our call as people of faith.  

Outside of faith, that man with his comment was correct: there is no reason, outside of our love for God that calls us to love all of God’s children, all of God’s people, there is no reason.  But inside the bounds of our faith, there is, in fact, no option to fail to offer care, no option to fail to serve, to care, or to love.

As you all know, a group of us have been part of a belong circle now for about eight months.  This is a group of women from our church and a group of women from an African American congregation who meet together twice a month for the purpose of remembering that we belong to one another.  We share with one another where we are, what we are doing, our joys, our hopes, our dreams, our struggles, our pains.  We have come to love each other deeply.  Personally, I also feel that I have learned and grown so much from their example.  One of the women in our group, for example, is struggling with great unkindness coming her direction.  But her commitment to being kind to those who are treating her so unfairly and even, at times, cruelly, moves me every single time that I listen to her.  She understands at a deep place that people are unkind because they are hurting.  So she prays for them, she responds to their attacks with listening, with apology, with words of humility.  She touches and amazes me every day.  She lives out the understanding that despite differences, we belong to one another.  

I was reminded recently of a story called the “Law of the Garbage Truck”.  The person who wrote it said, “One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly.  So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!' This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, 'The Law of the Garbage Truck.' He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment.  As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, So ... Love the people who treat you right. Pray for those who don’t.”

The thing here is, Jesus did not change his mind in talking with the Samaritan woman.  He still said in this passage from John, “You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews.”  He still has his same understanding.  But he does not then choose to hold her differences of belief and understanding against her.  He does not avoid her because her worldview is different.  He does not shun her or reject her.  He does not choose hate, despite what other Jews are doing, in the face of their differences.  Instead, he invites her close, he offers her life, he talks to her.  And in so doing, he breaks down walls rather than building them up.  And he crosses differences instead of upholding animosity.  He chooses connection over division.  

I’m reminded of a poem by Yehuda Amichai called, The Place Where We Are Right 

From the place where we are right 

Flowers will never grow 

In the spring. 

The place where we are right 

Is hard and trampled 

Like a yard. 

But doubts and loves 

Dig up the world 

Like a mole, a plow. 

And a whisper will be heard in the place 

Where the ruined

House once stood.

Or as Wayne Dyer said it, “When given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kind.” 

The Priest and spiritual leader, Richard Rohr, said it this way: “Henceforth, it is not "those who do it right go to heaven later," but "those who receive and reflect me are in heaven now." This is God's unimaginable restorative justice. God does not love you if and when you change. God loves you so that you can change. That is the true story line of the Gospel.”

Or, as the author of the book, When Breath become Air, Paul Kalanithi says, “The main message of Jesus, I believed, is that mercy trumps justice every time.”

As I listen to those words I find myself wondering, once again, if we can’t work harder to do the same.  Can we learn to love one another, across our differences, despite our differences, with the hope of creating a society where we understand and remember that we belong to one another?  Can we be the people that we are called to be?  People of grace, of light, of compassion, of LOVE?  

When my son was coming home for Christmas from UAF, I was worried about how he was going to get to the airport.  The school has a shuttle service around campus and downtown so I emailed them and asked if they would be running kids the airport for Christmas break.  The person in charge said he did not believe so (most of the kids live in AK and don’t need that transportation), but if I let him know what time Middle needed to travel, they would come get him and take him.  I sent them back a note saying that was very kind and could I pay them for it.  His response, “no need.  This is the right thing to do.”  I was truly blown away.  But the fact that this kindness caught me so by surprise is a warning sign to me of the state of our nation.  We should always be that kind to one another, all the time.  The fact that it is rare?  We need to work harder to make it less so!

Someone said recently to me, “I don’t worry about putting the Christ back into Christmas.  I worry about putting the Christ back into Christians.”  We are to be known by our love.  Do we live that out?  Do we take that seriously?  We don’t need to pound on each other about our different beliefs, our different viewpoints, our different approaches to the world.  We need to treat one another with the same compassion, love and care that Jesus showed to the woman at the well.  Even his disciples couldn’t grasp it, so I know how hard this is.  Even his disciples struggled to understand why he would talk to a Samaritan, why he would talk to a WOMAN.  But he did it none the less.  Can we do the same with those with whom we disagree?  

Connie Schultz said it this way, “I learned that those who are most secure in their faith feel no need to hammer others with their certainty.  The walk of faith begins and ends with the journey within, and that’s a path fraught with mystery and best guesses.  My own faith makes me neither right nor righteous because it demands so much of me that I am still trying to find.  Empathy, forgiveness, compassion – I never have enough.  Mom would say that’s okay.  She taught me that being a Christian meant fixing ourselves and helping others, not the other way around.” – Life Happens p214

On this the week we begin Black History month in the U.S., I want to end with one more quote.  This one is from Erna Kim Hackett.  She wrote, “White Christianity suffers from a bad case of Disney Princess theology.  As each individual reads Scripture, they see themselves as the Princess in every story.  They are Esther, never Xerxes or Haman.  They are Peter, never Judas.  They are the woman anointing Jesus, never the Pharisee.  They are the Jews escaping slavery, never Egypt.  For citizens of the most powerful country in the world, who enslaved both Native and Black people, to see itself as Israel not Egypt when studying Scripture, is a perfect example of Disney Princess Theology.  And it means that as people in power, they have no lens for locating themselves rightly in Scripture or society – and it has made them blind and utterly ill-equipped to engage issues of power and injustice.  It is some very weak Bible work.”  

No doubt.  My invitation to us, then, is to accurately locate ourselves, not so that we are weighed down with shame: shame is immobilizing and unhelpful.  But so, instead, that we can take the history that is ours, learn from it, and make different choices together.  Will we walk forward hand in hand, or will we isolate and estrange one another.  Will we confront the issues of racism and other isms by separating ourselves into camps of us vs. them?  Or will we work hard to talk together, get to know one another and build relationships together?

The Belong Circle program is a program of crossing differences and building relationships.  Outsiders to the group have asked me on many occasions, “What’s the point?  What are you accomplishing together?  What difference are you making?”  But I can tell you the difference that I’m seeing.  We are no longer strangers to one another.  We are sisters in our group.  And for my sister, I would be willing to stand up, to protect, to speak out against injustice, against racism and prejudice.  When my siblings of color were just an anonymous group of people struggling, I still wanted wholeness and healing for them.  But it is not the same as when I know them, love them, have faces and names put to those I am defending.  That is a whole other matter.  The Belong Circle invites us to truly get to know each other.  We are starting a new circle this month and I hope that you will truly consider joining.  Let me know if you would like to be a part.  It may feel like a small step forward, but in my experience it is not.    

The same is true about forming real relationships with people who disagree with you on political issues. Form those relationships with people who disagree, talk to them.  Remember that despite our differences, they are your brothers, sisters and siblings.  They belong to you, and you belong to them.  Am I my siblings keeper?  Just as Jesus answered “yes” in his conversation with the woman at the well, we are called to follow and do the same.  All that easy and all that hard.

Growing, Learning

     A wise man once said to me, "When I graduated from high school, I knew everything.  When I finished college, I realized there were a few things I didn't really know anything about.  By the time I received my master's, I realized there were only one or two areas in which I was really an expert.  But when I finished my doctorate, I finally realized that I really knew nothing about anything."

    I think I was in my first year of college when he said this to me.  And so, as someone who was still feeling pretty smart, pretty learned, pretty on top of the world, I could only nod in my own sense of "understanding this" as just one more sign that I did, in fact, know all that was necessary for me to know.  But, while education certainly has been part of teaching me in the fact that I really know precious little about anything, I actually think my greater teacher has been time and experience.  The longer I am on this planet, the more I realize how little I truly understand about pretty much anything.

    I write as a way to deal with all that I don't understand, as a way to try to process through the many levels and layers of non-understanding that I experience.  As William Faulkner once said, “I never know what I think about something until I read what I’ve written on it.”

    But this morning I simply found myself aware of how little I understand of other people: their motives, their decisions, their beliefs, even.  

    Still, rather than seeing this as a failing, I'm seeing it more as an invitation.  I want to learn, I want to grow.  And I find that in my learning, there is also growing.  In my exploring and talking to others, especially, perhaps, others who see the world very differently than I do, I do grow.  

    A small group in my church is taking the Brownicity Course: What Lies Between Us.  While our group had been reading a number of wonderful books on Racism in the United States, I have to say, this course that we are now taking is absolutely incredible.  It covers so much material and backs all of it with resources, readings, podcasts, videos, etc.  It is a very inexpensive course that has far more information and data in it than I could have expected and it far exceeds my expectations in terms of both quantity and quality of what is being offered.  While the history of this country is disturbing, shocking, upsetting in so many ways as we look at how we have harmed people of color and frankly anyone that we chose at different points in time to identify as "different" or "other", I deeply believe that we will never be able to make the changes we want to see, the changes that are necessary on our journey to "love one another as we love ourselves" until we truly understand our history.  

    But in the midst of this, my understanding of the continued racism, anger, and hatred that we see has baffled me at so many levels.  This course is helping me in that, as well.  One of the videos we were given to watch was a Ted talk on the psychological differences between liberals and conservatives.  Taking the time to look at the base differences in values was very helpful, as well as why those differences in values exist in the first place.  

    I still find myself feeling very frustrated that we are so divided as a country that we hear different news, invest in different beliefs about what is real, and most of all, are given radically different "facts" that simply cannot be reconciled together.  Of course, where you stand on the spectrum determines which facts you believe and which you decide are lies.  And while I do think that there are always multiple ways of interpreting the same facts, there are things that actually happened and things that really didn't; there are truths about what is happening and there are lies.  And while my perspective tells me a certain group of news is lies, I know that others who disagree with me believe that what I am hearing is lies.  I believe more and more strongly that the role of our leaders is to tell the truth, to not make up stories that confuse, alienate, and divide us as a people, as a country.  But my strong belief in this will not affect leaders, will not change the fact that "truths" and "lies" have become a currency in our country that is more valuable to those buying and selling it than human relationships and human lives.  While I will do my part to promote honesty in reporting and in leadership, I am coming to the belief that it will take a conversion that only God can bring about to convince people, and perhaps to convince us as a nation, of the profound importance of truth-telling, and the huge individual responsibility in being careful about what you choose to accept as "facts".  

    In the meantime, I will continue to read, continue to learn, and continue to try to grow both in my own commitment to loving my neighbors, ALL my neighbors, as myself and in my commitment to working to understand even those who are so radically different from myself.

    Blessings and hope for a new year.

Disagreements in Faith Communities

         When the PCUSA made the decision in 2013 to ordain LGBTQ+ people, there was a strong push back from many people in our churches.  Many people who had wanted this inclusion had hung in with the church for a very long time before the decision was made.  They had chosen to stay within a body even when things were different from what they believed to be right, to be moral.  They stayed, and worked for change.  However, when the decision was made to open up our ordination limitations, many people who disagreed with this new decision left their individual congregations and many congregations left the denomination.  Many people grieved that loss of those members, but more, I think they struggled to understand why they were expected to stay despite disagreements when other's had their way, but those same others would not in turn stay if they did not have things going their way.
       Regardless, the choice for those other churches to leave has, in many ways, made other decisions in the national church easier.  As a denomination we are more on the same page now, the great differences in our opinions and beliefs are hugely lessened in the wake of those who have left.  While the decision to leave made a big statement, it was a one-time statement that left no room for any weigh-in on any future decisions.  And that, then, is the cost of leaving.  Once you have left, your voice no longer carries the weight it had when you were willing to still be in conversation with those with whom you disagreed.  You can no longer impact decisions, you no longer have sway or persuasive authority.  Your last vote, your last voice, was cast when you left.  The denomination as a whole has swung, has moved, because the "center" is now in a very different place than it was before congregations and individuals left the church.
         One of the things I find interesting about this, though, is that while we have fewer disagreements within our denomination now, in some ways those disagreements are now more heated.  It seems that when the church mirrors yourself more fully, the disagreements are more painful.  There is more "buy-in" when the body is less diverse in opinion and looks more like you in terms of values.  And so when that body disagrees, that disagreement seems more painful.
         All of this is true on the smaller scale as well.  I remember reading somewhere that by year five of a pastorate, a congregation tends to look like its pastor.  I also remember thinking as I read the article that I didn't think this was actually accurate for most Presbyterian churches.  Certainly it has not been accurate for the churches I have served.  Presbyterian churches, for those who don't know, aren't run by their pastors.  They are run by sessions, or boards, that make the decisions for the congregations.  Pastors are "teaching elders" which means we teach, we preach; our power is persuasion and not ultimate authority.  In contrast, the elders who serve on our sessions are "ruling elders" - they make the decisions for the congregation.  I have yet to be part of a congregation in which every decision made by the session was something I agreed with.  And that remains true no matter how long I've been in a church.  I served one church for 8 1/2 years and at the time of my leaving there were still decisions made with which I disagreed.  That was also the case with the next congregation where I served 6 1/2 years.  And this is true of the church where I have been serving for the last five years as well.
            And what has been interesting to me is that, just as debates in the larger church seem more painful when the body tends to be more homogenous in terms of beliefs, decisions in the more homogenous congregations (theologically) tend to be impacted at a deeper level too.  My last congregation was extremely theologically and politically diverse.  When decisions were made that some people did not agree with, it was easier to shrug them off, to delight in the diversity of opinions and differences.  For myself, besides enjoying the different voices and remembering that the body of Christ contains all different parts, I would remember that as the pastor, I was a servant to the congregation, but that I was not a member of the congregation.  The church was the people who made up the membership of the congregation.  And I was there to pastor them, but it was, ultimately, not my church.  Pastors come and go, but the church remains the people. That distinction may feel strange, but it is and was a necessary distinction.  I was there to guide, to encourage, to give my insight from a theological perspective.  But I was not there to control, to insist or even to "lead" in the sense of taking charge and determining the future of the church.
           But I see that in my current congregation, which in many ways is more theologically homogenous, when disagreements do arise, the pain of difference, the pain of disagreement, seems so very much harder to take for everyone involved.  And again, I think that's a symptom of the homogeny that has been shared.  Is this a good thing?  There are definitely gifts in hearing voices of difference.  There are also definite gifts in being like-minded in terms of being able to make a difference and impact the world around us in a more definite way.
           I think the trick in all of this is to find balance, always.  And to learn some tolerance for different opinions.  We can't grow unless we hear other voices.  And we can't make a difference unless we are saying something in a different way or with a different voice than others have inside their own heads.  So the questions of who we want to be in the world, what kind of difference we choose to make, and how we want to be in relationship to one another are important.  Especially in this time of increased polarization, sitting around the table with different opinions and voices is necessary and invaluable.  When we leave the conversation, we can no longer contribute in that way.  Maybe your reason for staying in a church community should not be because that community serves you, supports your beliefs, and validates your thinking.  Perhaps your reason to stay should instead be because the church needs you, your voice, your opinions, and your vision.   Are we here to give or to receive?  Are we here to serve or to be served?  I understand that this does not always make our communities and conversations comfortable.  But is the goal really our comfort?  Jesus never called us to be comfortable.  Jesus called us to heal, to bring justice, and to be willing to lose our lives in order to gain them.  Therefore, these questions are the questions we must ask as people of faith.