Christ the King Sunday: The One Who Judges

 Isaiah 9:1-7, Ezek. 34:11-16, 20-24, John 8:12

In my lectionary group about a month ago, our leader for the day showed us a Key and Peele video from YouTube called “God Visits a Prayer Group.”  In this video a prayer group is praying hard.  The leader of the group begins with great earnestness as the group holds hands in a circle, “Father, please hear our prayer for the poor.  We beseech you for the disenfranchised, the less fortunate and those that suffer.  Show us your will so we can continue to do your work.”  All those around him in the prayer group are nodding and “amen”-ing and chiming in with “yes, Father!”  And then suddenly a loud booming voice comes from above and says, “I have come to answer your prayers.  Listen carefully to my instructions.”  At that point, everyone in the prayer group gets on their knees is looking up in great expectation, with hands clasped together, shouting, “Alleluia!” and looking enraptured.  The voice continues, “I want you to sell everything you own and immediately begin service to the poor.”  The members all look around at each other in fear and anxiety.  One member says, “I just want to clarify… everything?”  God continues, “Yes! Rid yourself of all earthly possessions.”  The members of the prayer group exchange looks and then they begin shouting.  “Oh no!  This house is haunted!”  “It’s a ghost!”  “Move!”  “Go, go go!”  “it’s insidious!”  And they all run out of the house.  

Hm.  I’m going to come back to this.

Today is Christ the King Sunday, the day we honor that Christ is our king, the one and only King that we should be following in all ways.  We know from the book of Samuel that the Israelites had asked for a human king repeatedly, against God’s wishes and against God’s will.  They had begged God for a king when God kept telling them the only king they needed was God.  And finally God gave into their demands but God did so with a warning, (from 1 Samuel 8:4-20):  “This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots.  Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots.  He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers.  He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants.  He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants.  Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, …”

They didn’t want God for a King.  And yet today we celebrate that God, that Christ was, is and still will be our king.  Still, I wonder what we actually mean by that when we say it?  What do we envision when we think of Christ returning as king?  Do we continue to envision the kind of king we think of when we think of earthly kings?  I believe many Christians do, at some level at least.

When the Israelites were asking for a king, they were asking for something very specific.  From the same Samuel passage I quoted above, this is what they asked for, ““We want a king over us. Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.”

In other words, when they asked for a king, they were mostly looking for someone to defend them against others.  When you think of kings, or government of any kind, what do you think of?

When you think of JESUS, what do you think of?  

No matter how much we may think that when it comes to Jesus we have let go of the images of “king” that we have based on our human leaders, there is evidence all around us that most people, even when they think of God as king, have in fact NOT let go of those very specific, earthly images that scriptures tell us are anything BUT what God the King, Christ the King, is all about.  Jesus came as a baby, as a poor baby.  So already, our images of rich rules, rules with power and money are challenged. Then we see his actions during life.  And what were they?  They were NOT amassing more wealth for himself.  They were NOT the military images we have of kings defending nations.  They were not claiming power for the Israelites at the cost of everyone else.  And they were absolutely not supporting the rich to get richer while the poor got poorer.   Jesus was killed in part because the Jewish people were disappointed at the kind of kingship he brought – he disappointed them by NOT overthrowing the Roman Empire.  He disappointed them by NOT defending Israel against the Romans.  And at the same time he was a threat to the Roman leaders because the leadership he offered: of uplifting the poor and marginalized at the cost to the wealthy was still a threat.  His kingship was recognized by Romans and Jews alike: but they could NOT grasp, could not begin to grasp, that it was completely different from what they thought a king was like or what they thought a king would do, should do, or could do. Our hymns on this day hail Jesus.  But I wonder if even this isn’t a capitulation to our earlthy ideas of what kings should be.  Is what we are doing here what Jesus would be wanting us to do this day?  Is Jesus asking us to sing his praises?  Or is he asking us to feed his hungry people?  Is Jesus asking us to argue theology with each other?  Or is Jesus asking us to welcome the stranger, ALL strangers, ANY stranger?  Is Jesus asking us to sue those who would take from us, exert an “eye for an eye” on people or countries who do us harm, or does he challenge us with the words, “You have heard it said an eye for an eye, but I say to you that you must not oppose those who want to hurt you. If people slap you on your right cheek, you must turn the left cheek to them as well.  When they wish to haul you to court and take your shirt, let them have your coat too.  When they force you to go one mile, go with them two.  Give to those who ask, and don’t refuse those who wish to borrow from you.”  Is this King, Christ, Jesus, one who protects us against those who would steal our wealth?  Or one, like I read to you today in the skit, quoting the New Testament Jesus himself, who asks us to give UP those earthly possessions in order to serve those who would steal it from us?!

Instead of the earthly king who sits on a thrown and protects against enemies, we are given very different images of what and who Christ the King is through scripture.  “I will seek out my flock.  I will search for them when they have scattered.  I will feed them.  I will bind up the wounded and strengthen the week.”  But then also, “the fat and strong I will destroy.”  Notice it isn’t “the enemies” whom he will destroy.  It isn’t “those other people”.  Instead, it is those who are doing well while others are hungry and lost and week and wounded.  Which are we?  Are we really SURE we are prepared for this kind of king?   

This king expects different things from us than our earthly king expects.   Earthly government may indeed take a piece of our money and resources.  Earthly government requires our allegiance.  But God the king expects us to share ALL of our money and resources.  ALL of it.  Like in the video I quoted at the beginning of the sermon.  He expects different things from us than we are want to give.  In today’s passage from Matthew, Jesus is not saying, “Worship me on Sunday mornings and then you will get into heaven.”  That’s NOT what he is asking us to do.  As a matter of fact, scriptures are pretty pointed about this NOT being what is needed.  As you remember from last week, Amos tells us, in Amos 5:21-24: I hate, I reject your festivals; I despise your joyous assemblies. If you bring me your entirely burned offerings and gifts of food—I won’t be pleased; I won’t even look at your offerings of well-fed animals. Take away the noise of your songs; I won’t listen to the melody of your harps.  But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”  No, instead Jesus tells us what we are expected to do…  Feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, visit those in prison.  Those are what we are called to do.  

I want to be clear: I don’t believe we are called to be homeless ourselves or destitute.  But we are called to help, in any way we can, to make sure that others aren’t suffering either.  

Christ is not the kind of king, as Jesus states in today’s passage, who has guards who will fight for him and prevent him from being killed.  Instead he is the kind of king who allows his subjects to kill him and who dies begging for his killers’ forgiveness.  He is the kind of king who then comes back from death to reassure and save the very people who killed him.  He is not the kind of king, as we hear repeatedly, who caters to the wealthy and powerful, but instead is the kind of king who reaches out to the marginalized and powerless.  He is not the kind of king who luxuriates in riches and in being served by others, but instead is the kind of king who serves others continually.  He is the kind of king who IS king simply because he IS.  And he is the kind of king who asks us to follow and do as he did, feeding, caring, loving, one another.  We end the church year with this Sunday.  Next Sunday we begin again with Advent, with the waiting for Jesus to come as that helpless, poor baby.  Next week we begin to prepare for Christmas.  

But we aren’t quite there yet.  Right now we are still in the place of remembering that Christ was different than we expect, and perhaps different than we want.  It is a time to reevaluate what “kingship” means to us and for us.  So for today I invite you into a space of self-reflection, and of critical theological discernment about our vision and understanding of kingship.  Thanks be to God for the kingship of Christ.  May it teach us, guide us, and model for us a way of being in the world that is different.  Amen.

All Saint's Humility

 

1 Kings 17:1-24

Matthew 23: 1-12

On Wednesday morning of last week I attended an on-line respite through the PCUSA Board of Pensions.  Basically what that means is that I attended a three hour webinar for clergy that was focused on how we take care of ourselves so we can continue our ministry during this time.  We began with a short worship service and then we had a panel of five speakers who were going to lead us in reflection and education for the next couple of hours.  As we began the panel led part of the respite, the host began by spending 10 minutes “introducing” the panelists.  But “introducing” what I mean is that she spent ten minutes explaining to us the credentials of each of the speakers.  Half-way through this list of credentials, I admit I tuned out.  It didn’t really matter to me, but I am certain that had she failed to explain each person’s resume fully, each of those panelists might have felt they were not given the introduction that was their due.  Then the first panelist began to speak, and, even with the introduction given by the host, he still felt it was necessary to give us another full 10 minute self-introduction, telling us where he’d worked, for how long, what he accomplished at each job, etc. 

This was the day after I had begun working on today’s sermon.  The passage from Matthew is really about humility.  As we read from the gospel of Matthew today, Jesus said, “But you shouldn’t be called Rabbi, because you have one teacher, and all of you are brothers and sisters.  Don’t call anybody on earth your father, because you have one Father, who is heavenly.  Don’t be called teacher, because Christ is your one teacher.” 

And so, as I listened to these long introductions outlining the credentials of each of these speakers, I found myself thinking two things.  First, is it any wonder that humility is so difficult?  Here we are the church that follows Jesus, the Jesus who told us clearly that our credentials don’t matter – that the first will, in fact, be last, so that our credentials are a hindrance if anything, and should never be a source of pride.  But it is in this church, as the body of Christ that we still begin our work, our meetings, our presentations with introducing (ie bragging, proud-fully announcing) all the credentials of each person, as if that is what matters, and is what gives each of the speakers the right to lead, that is what gives them value as speakers.  Given that this is the model we have in our churches, how are we supposed to practice humility?  Really and truly?  Second, I wondered what it would be like if we had skipped this part all together.  What if instead of giving the credentials and the “reason why we should listen to you” at the beginning, we instead gave those at the end or didn’t give them at all?  Would people be less willing to listen without those introductions?  Would people give less credence to what they were hearing if they didn’t know the amazing credentials of those speaking? 

In the Presbyterian church we say that we believe that every person is called, EVERY person.  We emphasize that no call is “better” or higher or more important than another.  Pastors are not more holy than other people.  We are not more “called” or more “chosen” by God.  We simply have a different call, a specific call to ministry.  Paul goes into great detail in the book of Corinthians about the fact that we all have gifts and that it is often those gifts we value the least that are the most important.  As 1^st Corinthians 12 says, “Christ is just like the human body—a body is a unit and has many parts; and all the parts of the body are one body, even though there are many.  We were all baptized by one Spirit into one body, whether Jew or Greek, or slave or free, and we all were given one Spirit to drink.  Certainly the body isn’t one part but many.  If the foot says, “I’m not part of the body because I’m not a hand,” does that mean it’s not part of the body?  If the ear says, “I’m not part of the body because I’m not an eye,” does that mean it’s not part of the body?  If the whole body were an eye, what would happen to the hearing? And if the whole body were an ear, what would happen to the sense of smell?  But as it is, God has placed each one of the parts in the body just like he wanted.  If all were one and the same body part, what would happen to the body?  But as it is, there are many parts but one body.  So the eye can’t say to the hand, “I don’t need you,” or in turn, the head can’t say to the feet, “I don’t need you.”  Instead, the parts of the body that people think are the weakest are the most necessary.  The parts of the body that we think are less honorable are the ones we honor the most. The private parts of our body that aren’t presentable are the ones that are given the most dignity.  The parts of our body that are presentable don’t need this. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the part with less honor so that there won’t be division in the body and so the parts might have mutual concern for each other.”  But we certainly don’t treat people that way, do we?  We want to know if someone is a foot or a head.  And if they are a foot, we don’t think they have the right qualifications to talk to us about their experience or how it might relate to our lives, our experiences, our situations.

By the way, this is a cultural phenomenon.  I remember being in Central America and being at a gathering where an 11 year old boy was orating, lecturing all of those around him about the situation they were experiencing in Nicaragua.  Those around him were listening, all of them, enraptured.  It didn’t matter that he was a kid, that he probably did not have a great education, living in a very rural and remote area.  They listened because he spoke truth, not because of any qualifications.

Again, today’s passage in Matthew is about humility.  “The greatest among you will be your servant.  All who lift themselves up will be brought low.”  This is about recognizing that our pride is greatly misplaced as far as God is concerned.   As Micah 6:8 says it, “What does the Lord require of you?  But to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with God.”  In many ways all three of these are the same thing, and we will talk about that more. 

But what is humility, really?   There is a general belief that humility means saying things like, “well, I’m not really good at that.” Or “I’m not really THAT good at x”.  This is a deep misunderstanding about humility.  Humility is not about denying your gifts.  It recognizes, instead, that all gifts are exactly that – gifts.  We are not “better” people because we’ve been born into a family that raised us with education and health care.  We are not innately “better” because we had the means to grow our talents, to learn skills, to put them into practice.  We are not “better” because God gave us talents or gifts.  God didn’t sit up there somewhere in judgment and say, “Well, this person deserves this talent” before we are even born.  God didn’t sit somewhere and decide, on the other hand, “this person deserves to be born to a mother who could not get health care and who was on crack while she was pregnant.”  Humility recognizes that we cannot take credit for the talents, the situation, the demographics, the culture into which we were born and raised.  Instead, we are given these, as we are given everything, in order for us to be good stewards of what we have.  We are to be stewards of our resources, caring for everyone around us with the money and time that we have.  But we are also to be good stewards of our talents: using them for the good of others. 

Humility also recognizes that not everything is about YOU.  For those who attended with me the training on responding in love to those who are suffering from psychosis, in particular, you may remember that I asked the question about what we should do when a person in our lives alternates, because of their mental illness, between being sweet and kind and receptive to care and even seeking out help – and then in the matter of a week can flip into an abusive attacking truly mean behavior.  I asked how to deal with that.  Her response was, “well, you set limits when they are being attacking, and you stick to them.”  I responded with something along the lines of “well, how long should you put up with the attacks?”  And she again responded with, “you set limits around that – not responding to nasty emails, for example, and making it clear that you won’t be responding to nasty emails.  But being loving and present when they are kind.”  And I realized that what she was reminding me was that their behavior in those times is not about me.  So I don’t have to take it personally, I shouldn’t take it personally at all.  I don’t need to accept it, but I also should have the humility to recognize that that person is more than their abusive behavior and that I can still choose to be in relationship with them when they are not acting out in an unkind way.  She reminded me that I should be able to separate myself from the attacks enough to remember that this behavior isn’t about me.  I should have the humility to put myself aside, to not have “ego” investment in those interactions.  It is still loving to set and keep a boundary – it does not help them to be allowed to act in this way.  But that doesn’t mean total rejection of them based on this “acting out” behavior.  This takes a great deal of humility: to remember that not everything, even when it seems that it is aimed at you, is about you.

Third, humility involves being willing to be self-reflective and to acknowledge that you could be wrong, that we could be wrong, that I could be wrong – about anything and everything.  That is hard for us to do, isn’t it?  Each of us thinks that we are right, especially about the things that matter most to us.  But it is a call and an act of humility to step back and consider the possibility that you could be wrong even about things you feel absolutely certain about.  In our actions, in our thinking, in our interaction – all of us could be wrong.  And that acknowledgement is an important part of humility.

In the Old Testament story we heard today, the widow was certain that she and her son were going to die and that they only had enough flour for one last meal before they would die.  She had the humility, though, to listen to Elijah and do what he told her to do when he asked her to give the last of the food she had to him instead of to her son.  She had the humility to consider that even though she felt certain that death was at her door, that maybe there was another possibility for her.  What strength of humility!

Finally, then, humility is remembering that no matter what we’ve earned, no matter what credentials we have, what talents we have, what resources we have, in the big picture it probably doesn’t ultimately matter.  Taking this a step further, no matter what we do, no matter what humanity does – even if we destroy ourselves and for all intents and purposes the earth, life will probably go on.  It may look different than before, but the changing seasons remind us that ultimately not one of us is in control, and not one of us has as much power as it sometimes feels that we do.  I think this realization can be both humbling and freeing.   It is humbling to remember that everything we are stressed or struggling or upset about ultimately probably is not that important.  But it is also freeing because then we can just do what is before us to be done without carrying the weight of the world on our own two shoulders.  I realize this is a dangerous thing to say.  We are still called to be careful, mindful, and loving in all things.  But the point I’m trying to make is that God will be God no matter what we do. 

The thing is, who we are is much more about our choices than it is about what talents or gifts or resources we have.  What do we do with what we are given?  How do we use our talents and resources?  Jesus told Peter that if he loved Jesus he was to feed Jesus’ sheep.  That is how we show our love of God, by giving back, not by “being successful” in the world’s eyes.  Humility is recognizing this: that our greatest, most successful gifts, do not make us better than other people.  It is our choices for love, choices to put ourselves and our egos aside, choices to serve and care for one another out of love for the other that matter the most.  If anything does make a difference, it is our actions for good, it is our kindnesses.  And we can’t ultimately take credit for that.  Again, our gifts come from God.  Humility calls us to act as if everything depends on us, with the recognition and prayers that know that really everything depends on God.  And no matter what we do, God will continue to be God.

On this, All Saints Day we think about those who have gone before.  We think about those we have loved, those who have made us who we are.  And as we think about those people, my guess is that you will find, as I find, that the people whose memories are dearest to me are those who were the most kind, gentle, giving and humble during their lives, who gave from their poverty, rather than from their riches.  We celebrate the saints today and so I invite you to think of those who are humbly doing the work of God.  I found myself thinking this week about the helpers, the saints that I have become aware of.  For example, there is a man in India who has set himself the goal of planting a million trees because he believes that the suffering in India is caused by the climate change that is wiping out the food and water sources for the people.  He is doing it not for the recognition, he is doing it because it is the right thing to do.  The people choosing to wear masks who are doing so knowing they protect those around themselves by doing so, much more than they ever protect ourselves. Those making masks who jumped in to help in whatever way they could.  The college students who figured out a way to save both farms and hungry people by connecting the farms that had been selling to organizations that were no longer in service among COVID crisis, to food pantries that were seeing a huge surging in need.  Jill who gives rides on a regular basis to those who live next door because they need them.  Period.  We don’t share these stories in our news nearly often enough.  But these are stories of humility: of people choosing to use their gifts for others, rather than for themselves, of people putting aside their egos to be helpers. 

           As I said before, doing justice, loving kindness and walking humbly with God – they are all connected.  When we can put aside our “credentials”, when we can put aside our egos, when we can choose to not lift up some people over others but to see all as the equally loved and valued children of God that we all are, when we can then do the work of loving and serving, especially those most in need, we are being the servants God calls us to be, we are walking with humility with our God.  That’s the very best we can do.  For the sakes of all people.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Micah

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Power of Kindness ("The Power Of..." Part II)

       Once again I am a bit late in deciding what my Lenten discipline will be this year.  It's not that I hadn't been thinking about it - I had.  I thought at first that maybe I would give up media at home: I've done that before, just really focused on time with my kids without computer, phone or TV interruption.  But this year with the Olympics it isn't so easy since the kids and David also want to watch these.  I thought about giving up sweets, but again, can't get the kids on board with this particular practice and it is really hard to do this when others are not limiting their sweet intake.
        But finally the universe conspired to show me what it is I really need to do for my Lenten discipline this year.
         First, I saw a clip from Oprah in which she was talking to a young woman about deciding what kind of energy she would choose to keep around her: positive energy in the form of kind, helpful people or negative energy from angry, attacking, abusive people.  The young woman said she wanted to do good by helping the negative folk to become more positive.  Oprah said, "that's great, but..." and went on to talk about how others' negative energy can really impact us in harmful ways if we do not also have people around who boost us up, affirm life and remind us of the good in the world.                Second, I saw this paragraph posted on a friend's FB page, "You are holding a cup of coffee when someone comes along and bumps into you, making you spill your coffee everywhere.  Why did you spill coffee?  You spilled coffee because that was what was in your cup.  Had there been tea in the cup, you would have spilled tea.  The point is that whatever is inside the cup, that is what will spill out when it is bumped.  When life comes along and shakes you (which will happen), whatever is inside you will splash out.  It's easy to fake it until you get rattled.  So, we have to ask ourselves, "what's in my cup?"  When life gets tough, what will spill out?  Joy, gratefulness, peace, and humility?  Or will anger, bitterness, harsh words and violent reactions come out?  Today let's work towards filling our cups with gratitude, forgiveness, joy, words of affirmation, kindness, gentleness and love for others."
       And finally, I read several comments in response to posts on FB that were, frankly and simply, unkind.  There was no reason for the cruelty, there was no reason for the unkindness.  In one post a mother shared the joy of having a 19 month old boy who was doing very well. Her post was a happy comment about a joyful boy and it ended with "tell me the wonderful things about your children and what they do that makes you proud!" This very positive, affirming post was met with attacks accusing her of bragging and trying to make others feel bad.  It was absolutely unkind.  And as a result, she left the mothering group that I was part of, saying she joined for support and was leaving because of the unkindness she found instead.  I understand her experience.  I had to leave a group of pastors recently (yes, pastors!) because one of the administrators of the group was attacking and unkind to me when I shared something very vulnerable, very personal, and very hard.
       All three of these events coincided in a way that made the discipline of this Lent a clear choice for me: I will be focusing on kindness.  I will work hard not to respond to others, even to people who are being mean, with anger.  I will look hard for the kindness that surrounds me.  I will focus on the good, the positive, the life-giving joy and beauty in each day. I will delight in what is lovely and on actions of grace and unexpected generosity.  I will live into what is wonderful each day. And I will do my best to pass on kindness and care to others.
        Towards this end, I may have to turn off much of the negativity, stay away from FB at times unless it is to post something positive, but I will work hard to surround myself with those who are gentle and humble and kind.
       I find that once I start looking for the good, for the kind, that it surrounds me constantly, and often comes in unexpected ways: David spinning my daughter down the aisle in the grocery store, my children saying silly things that bring the deep gift of laughter, kind comments of appreciation, beautiful stories of generosity towards others, smiles from strangers, the offer of help with the simple things: carrying in a large box, taking off one's coat, getting out of a car.
      It is not only easy to see kindness once we start looking for it, it is also easy to participate in it.  Ask people how they are, not as a brush-off salutation, but with genuine interest.  Bring a flower to someone.  Write a thank you note just saying you appreciate another person for being who they are and doing what they do.  Offer a meal, offer a prayer, offer a shoulder to cry on.  Take a moment to compliment someone, to offer an affirmation of caring and support.  Pick up a piece of garbage and throw it away.  Wash an extra dish, one that isn't yours.  Take an extra minute of time to be with someone else.
       The power of kindness increases with every moment of attention we give to it.  Seeing, noting and giving attention to the good and then taking time to pass it on or to offer gratitude for it: these make a difference.
       I begin my Lenten practice of noticing and participating in kindness then by thanking all of you who read my blog.  It is the highest of affirmations to know that my words and thoughts are read, that they matter to someone else.  It is a vote of confidence and support that does not go unnoticed by me.  I am grateful that you spend that time with me in this way.  I am grateful that you feel my words and my person are worth your attention.  Have a beautiful day.  And do not underestimate the power of your kindness to me, or to others!

Unkindness and self-righteousness

     We live in a time when self-righteous judging is just a fact of life.  We judge each other, condemn each other, without listening, without even talking about what specifically we don't like or why.  It's just judgment, just condemnation, just attacks and accusations, without the conversations, without real engagement with folk about their thoughts, their ideas, their feelings, their histories, or what creates the world views and opinions that we each have.
      I saw an article (well, video) recently that said that contempt is the current biggest problem with American politics.  It really resonated with me because, again, we aren't kind.  And it seems to me there are a few basic, human things we could do to begin to change this.
    1.  Confront ideas rather than attacking people.  We don't have to call people names or condemn people, even those who've done really awful things.  We can, instead, critique ideas or even behaviors (like, for example, the behaviors of being self-righteous and attacking).  One of the gifts of this is that it gives people the benefit of the doubt.  It recognizes the humanity of the other person which should supersede a person's ideas or even their actions.  It is a way of saying that we believe the other to basically be a decent person who just sees the world differently and explores the possibilities of why that might be the case.
    2.  When we disagree with something, don't like it, or think it is wrong, we should say what specifically we don't agree with and then say why.  Global statements, "you are wrong" or even "I don't like what you said" or "the way you do this is not acceptable" are not helpful to anyone because they are not specific.  Statements like that create enemies, they set up walls and barriers between people without there ever being an opportunity for learning, understanding or bridge-building.  Specific statements, "When you said x, it was unjust or unfair because of y" or even better, "when you did x, I felt y because z" (so putting it back to ourselves, claiming our part, claiming what bothered me specifically rather than attacking the other person) are much, much more helpful because they allow for dialogue, they open the possibility of learning and exploration of ideas, they move us forward in communication with each other.
    3.  Chose always to start with compassion and understanding rather than fury, rage, or hatred.  This one is harder, MUCH harder.  When we are attacked, it is normal, it is almost instinctual, to respond with a counter attack.  But taking a deep breathe and trying to hear under the rage, to hear under the anger, to listen to the pain, to the life story of the other person will go a long way towards building bridges, creating communication and furthering the possibilities of learning, growth and movement.
    4.  Try to have real conversations, not through social media, but in person and using our words, rather than memes and constant attacking posts.
     
      There are other ways we can work towards building bridges as well, but I think that these really simple things are so important to the way we communicate with each other.  We are becoming increasingly isolated, increasingly polarized, and we make enemies far too quickly of people who should be our allies, should be other human beings on the same journey as we are, should become friends and family.  We miss out simply by failing to be kind, failing to listen, and failing to communicate specifically, clearly, and directly when we disagree with something.

      Personally, I was just confronted with a situation in which I was attacked by someone who should have been a support person, through social media, for something I said without the specifics of why what I said was a problem; and, equally, without any comprehension that I was sharing about a problem that I, myself, carry and deal with every single day.  The cruelty and condemnation of the other person was overwhelming. I tried to respond with clarity and and an apology, only to be met with silence. This happens. I had a choice then, in that moment.  Do I practice what I preach and try to stay engaged?  Asking for more clarity?  Speaking with love and compassion?  Or do I let the door that the other self-righteously and judgmentally slammed stay closed?  I'll admit that in the moment I was not able to continue the engagement. There was no way to have a real, actual, in person conversation. Plus, the attack had been far too personal, far too intimate an attack for me to stay engaged in that moment. And finally, my attempts at communication were met with silence, without explanations, without specifics. I've had to realize that not all people who claim to be loving and compassionate can be, or can be at all times. Some carry their own scars, some carry their own chips on their shoulders that they are simply unable to put down; and some, I've finally come to believe, are simply not good people. They attack the weakest and most vulnerable among us at their weakest and most vulnerable moments, without self reflection and without a willingness to hear others.  Sometimes that means we have to turn away, simply to take care of ourselves.
      But most of the time, I think we can use the reasons I've just listen as my own, as an excuse to fail to engage in real conversation.  And my sense is that the more we practice bridge-building communication and listening, the better we will become at it.  Also, we have a responsibility to stand up to bullies, not by bullying back, but by engaging them in the ways I've listed, if not for our own sake, then for the sake of those who are not as able to stand up for themselves.  We never know when our own choices to be compassionate may change someone else.  We never know when we actually touch someone or make a difference.  But I can pretty much guarantee that we don't change others for the better by being cruel, condemning, self-righteous or judging.
      No doubt I should have tried harder in my own situation.  But I suppose the self change and choices to engage start with an awareness that we have choices; that we can choose compassion in the face of cruelty, that we can be bridge-builders even with those who don't know how to listen or communicate without judgment or condemnation; that the place of power is one not of being reactive to others' anger or hate but being proactively compassionate and grace-filled.  It's a goal for me.  I hope it will be for you, too!

On Being Humble

Genesis 21:8-20

Matthew 10:24-39

            Have any of you, like Sarah in the passage from Genesis, ever felt jealous and/or threatened by the power, popularity, achievements or even just the potential of others?  Even those who have less power and stature, like Hagar, who was not Abraham’s wife, but his slave: still, Sarah felt threatened - threatened that he had another child by another woman: threatened enough that she wanted Hagar and her son sent away - in other words she wanted them dead for a woman and her son would not survive in the wilderness apart from the tribe.  She felt so jealous and threatened that she wanted Hagar and her son to die.  She must have felt an amazing amount of pain to feel so vindictive against Hagar and her son.  And while we may not act on feelings of jealousy or threat in such a way, almost all of us experience some degree of jealousy, or threat to our sense of place and status at one point or another.  Most of us, I think, experience situations and places where it is important to us that people know who we are, what our status is, what our accomplishments are.  We feel threatened and even angry or lost when others don’t value us in the way we would like, recognizing us as loved, as successful, as... whatever it is that matters to us. 

            When Jonah was eight he broke his collar bone at school.  The school called me, told me he had fallen running and that I needed to pick him up and take him to emergency.  When I got to the hospital, though, before I could tell the doctors and nurses that this had happened at school, I found the general assumption was that I had been abusing my child and that this was how his collar bone was broken.  The hospital personnel had their minds made up from the second we walked into the hospital as well.  They barked at me, treating me as if I were an uneducated, uncaring, awful mother who deserved to lose her child.  They put him in a room that I was not allowed into while they "interviewed" him.  I was already going through a horrible time because I was worried about my son. But it was also a matter of humiliation for me.  I wanted to shout at them that I had a degree in psychology, that I had a doctorate, that I was a pastor, that I had three children and all of them were wonderful and amazing and brilliant despite the tragedies they had experienced.  I wanted to shove layers of credentials in their faces because they made me feel little, small, unworthy and un-valued. In the end, I found myself grateful that his accident had happened at school, even though he did not have the comfort of a parent with him, because the possible consequences of this having happened at home were made absolutely clear to me through that experience.

            But I am not alone in this need to be seen and valued.  When I had surgery a dozen years ago: the doctor came out to talk to my family about how the surgery had gone, he still had on his scrubs, with a stethoscope around his neck, the little mirror thing around his head: My family got a clear impression that this was not so much that he felt in a hurry to talk to them as it was important to him that the other people in the hospital know that he was a doctor, not one of the patients, not a nurse, but a surgical doctor.  

            At Eldest’s school at one of the back to school nights, I found myself talking with another parent whom I did not know before and found that she was very quick to make sure I understood that she was not just a mere parent at the school, but a teacher as well.  Her sense of identity and sense of accomplishment needed to be validated by my knowing she taught as well as parented. 
          At many programs where the poor, homeless or marginalized are served, the volunteers all have name-tags stating their status as volunteers - distinguishing them from those who are being served.  There are always reasons for doing this, some of which are good, valid, helpful.  But at some level one has to ask what import it serves to separate us into categories in this way?  For some of the volunteers, this distinction is important.  For the newest volunteers especially, it can feel important to not be mistaken for a person in need.

          Again, I think we all have felt some sense of threat to our identity at some point, some need to stand up and say, “Wait!  That’s not who I am!  Look at what I’ve done, or who I know or who I am!”

            But today’s scriptures point out several things.

            We are told, first, that whatever is not known will be known.  All will be revealed.  In this context that means that our real selves will be known, will be measured, will be opened for all to see.  And that real self is not going to be judged by our status, our job, our accomplishments, our wealth or our popularity.  Our real self, our core self, has to do with our care and love to God and God’s people.  And by “care” I don’t mean the good works we do so much as how we approach God’s people, all of God’s people every day.  Even more, our real worth is a gift given to all.  For our real value, our worth is actually about the fact that we are God’s children - all of us - none of us loved more highly than another, none of us loved less highly than another.  Jesus assures us in this passage from Matthew that all will be known.  At that time, we will be measured by our hearts: and we will be found valuable simply by the fact that we are God’s children.  Those who would judge us then, who would hurt us, who would take away our wealth, our popularity, our health, our status, we are told, should not be feared because eventually their worth, too, will be shown and all those marks of status we value so much in this life will be found to be meaningless: those who would hurt us will also be shown as the equal children of God that they are.  Even family connections, we are told, will be brought to nothing.  Those then, who would separate us out, by our lack of these things: connections, popularity, fortune, these who judge us and put us down, who disrespect us, who treat us as “less than” are not to be feared.

            As the beginning of the Matthew passage says, “A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master.”  In other words, all our attempts to be of more value than someone else have no worth.  God calls us to be God’s servants, doing the work of loving and caring for God’s creation.  That is our job.  And that work is not neat or tidy or beautiful or glorious: that is not work that will earn human praise or honor: but it is the real work of being God’s people. 

            One summer while I was in college I went to the most rural part of Alabama as a Volunteer in Mission for the Methodist church.  I worked that summer for a parish - or a group of ten very small congregations spread out over this very rural area: some of these churches had only 4 or 10 members, but they kept on meeting, worshiping together.  The parish center united these ten churches but it did more than that.  It ran a clothing thrift store, it kept a food pantry, and most importantly it ran a building program.  Groups of youth from around the state would come to this parish spot for a week or two and help repair and build houses for the poorest of the poor, the disabled, and the elderly: those without education or income or anything except the little pieces of land or house passed down through the generations.  I came to this program full of myself as a person who would go to seminary and become a missionary, for that is what I believed I would do at the time.  I went ready to be a community organizer and to work hard with these youth groups and with this building project.  But one week Dorsey, the pastor in charge of this project, asked me to help out with the thrift store.  I went in and Dorsey’s wife, who ran the thrift store, asked me to go into the back room and sort through boxes of donated clothes, helping to sort them by size, checking for holes, making sure they all had price tags.  I went back and began to do as she said, but found that there wasn’t a lot for me to do.  Most of this work had already been done, and I began, after time spent mostly waiting and watching, to feel resentful and even self-righteous about this.  I was a college student at Cal, I was going to be a pastor, I was going to be a missionary, they were putting me in the “hang out with thrift store clothing” box because I was female when I was just as capable as men to do other more useful work, I was....this and this and this...all reasons why the work of waiting, and the work of looking to see if anything else needed to be done, the work of looking at old discarded clothing felt somehow below me.  I hated this, and I made sure that message was conveyed. 

            The next day Dorsey asked me to go with him to a building site for a potential house.  We went out and Dorsey and another man talked about water and pipes while I stood impatiently to the side, uninvited into this conversation, and standing around waiting once more.  After twenty minutes of standing there Dorsey said, “Barbara, please go get me my wrench.”  So I walked the two feet over to his tool box and brought him back his wrench.  I continued to stand there and after another forty minutes had gone by he again addressed me, “Barbara, please bring me my measuring tape.”  I did so and again stood around waiting.  After another half hour had passed I finally lost it and said, “Dorsey, is there something useful I could be doing here?”  He looked up at me sternly for a minute, then excused himself from the conversation with the other man and took me around the corner for a lecture I will never forget.  “Who are YOU?” he demanded “that this work is too good for you?  Who are YOU that you decide what is useful and what is not?  Who decides what is God’s work?  Who decides what is needed?  You will never be God’s servant until you are able to see that God’s work is often the most humble of work, often the least recognized work, often the least glorious work.” 

            He was right.  And that day I learned a most humbling lesson.

            But it wasn’t the last day of my lessons on humility for this summer.  Remember, as I said, the houses we were building and repairing were for people who grew up in a very different culture and place than this.  Many, most, had no education at all.  Many times their rural southern accents were so strong that they were almost speaking another language.  This particular week the house the team needed to repair belonged to an elderly man who had probably never been farther than five miles from his little run-down house in his entire life.  He had been born there, he had been raised there.  He lived in extreme poverty and even squalor.  And we came that week, with a team of youth from the city to replace the original roof on this 100+ year old tiny and run-down abode.  The roof that was there hardly existed anymore.  So up we climbed onto the beams of the house, me and a team of six teens, one of whom was an African American girl, no more than 14 years of age.  And as we laid black roofing material in 100 degree humid weather and pounded nails into this man’s new roof, he stood at the bottom, on the ground and shouted up at us about how evil black people were.  He quoted scriptures that in his mind were proof of their inferiority and even their lack of humanity.  He stared at the African American girl as she built him a new roof and cursed her, again and again.  And as I listened and watched, incredulous, I noticed that the African American girl, who clearly heard every arrogant, prejudiced word that this man said, still, despite everything, put 100% of her effort into doing a good job for this man.  She never quarreled with him, she never challenged his words: she just did her work.  I tried to challenge the man and was told by her to stop.  At the end of the day we discussed the situation and she told me that she did not believe this man would change through argument or anger.  She did not believe the man would change old ingrained beliefs even through other scriptural quotes.  She said her job and our jobs that week were not to change this man, to “educate” this man.  Our job was to love this man by building him a new roof.  Our job was to be God’s hands and feet and do our best to care even for those who would hate us.  If God used that to change him, so be it.  If the man never changed, so be it.  But our job was clear. 

            Doing God’s work is not pretty or glorious.  Sometimes it looks like waiting.  Sometimes it looks like fetching objects.  Sometimes it looks like pounding nails into a roof while being cursed at from the bottom.  Sometimes doing God’s work of caring for the least of God’s people - the poor, the homeless, the oppressed, the children - sometimes that means losing friends, or losing a job, or losing connections or losing popularity, fame, glamour.  It is messy work.  It is hard work: it is not easy to stand up to someone you care about.  It is not easy to keep building on the roof even when you are being cursed from the ground.  But this is God’s work.  And we are called to do it without asking for recognition or popularity or glory.  We are called to do it as servants - servants who are loved beyond anything we can imagine.  Amen.

Practicing loving behaviors.

           My kids and I walk a lot.  I prefer to walk everywhere when I can, and since the store is only a half mile away, the church as well, we walk as much as possible.  I'm in the habit of stepping to the street side of the sidewalk.  It's something I was taught as a kid. The bigger, protective people walk closer to the street to protect the smaller people from the cars that are driving by.  Also, this way if a kid stumbles, they will stumble into the bigger person rather than just falling into the street and into the way of on-coming cars. Ever since I've had kids, this has been an automatic impulse: walking in the most protective way. Since the streets around here are not small and slow streets, but fast moving, multi-lane streets, this has become even more automatic. I walk on the street side and often hold the hands of the children with whom I'm walking to make sure no one dashes into danger. Yesterday, however, I was walking with David.  We started with David walking on the street side, but, without conscious awareness, I felt uneasy and quickly moved so that I was on the street side.  He gave me a puzzled look and asked why I had done that.
       "Done what?"
       "Moved to the street side."
        Oh.  I hadn't noticed, but realized that it was again an automatic reaction to a sense of uneasiness or wrongness. Without thinking I moved to that place because I felt uncomfortable walking with someone I care about in a non-protective way.  It didn't matter that David is 7 inches taller and weighs twice what I weigh.  What mattered was being able to protect the person I was with.
        But the whole conversation and realization of my own automatic behavior caused me to pause and think about what behaviors we teach ourselves that then become automatic, and what behaviors we need to reteach ourselves to become automatic from the place of being people of "the way" or people who follow God's call to love one another. The behaviors we practice become habit.  The ways we interact with others become second nature when done routinely. We have a choice about what we practice and the ways we interact with others.  We have a choice about what behaviors become habitual.
       Last week I was in a foul mood.  I was cranky because it had been raining and raining.  The constant dark and the lack of exercise don't agree with me.  And even though we need the water, always, in CA, I was just done with all the wet. I was driving to run an errand I wasn't excited about and grumbling to myself about life, love, work, etc.  I came to a red light and saw a woman crossing the street on her way to the hospital.  I didn't know if she was heading there to visit someone or if she worked there, but I could tell that either way, she was not having a good day.  She walked very slowly, looked down the whole time and her face was filled with sorrow and sadness.  I found myself caught in her expression, and sent up a prayer for her to have a day with joy and healing in it, whatever that might look like. If I'd been in a place where I could have pulled over and parked, I would have done so, but again, this was on a six-lane fast moving street and I knew by the time I found a place she would be inside.  I sent energy her way, and found myself internally reaching out to hug her spirit.
        That one act, taking a moment to get out of myself and focus on another, changed my whole attitude that morning.  I was no longer thinking about ME.  I was focused on someone else's needs and wanting good for her.
        That episode, too, caused me to pause and think about what we practice.  What we practice makes a difference. It makes a difference for me, and when my attitude and behavior changes, it makes a difference for others as well.
        There are so many things we need to practice.  But here are some of the things I am choosing the practice today:
        1.  Gratitude or remembering that we are so blessed by everything that comes our way. We have food, shelter, friends, family, air, sunshine and rain, music, dance and art, bodies that allow us to see, hear, touch, taste, smell; beautiful places to be, flowers, rainbows, exercise, books, movies, puzzles, our faith, our supports, schools, medical care... the list goes on and on and on. The challenges are gifts too because they help us grow. And the things we don't like give us the opportunities to work for positive change. It helps me to start from gratitude to move forward in whatever I have to do.
        2.  Seeing the invisible. As my daughter and I were walking to church today we passed a man air blowing the leaves off the sidewalk.  Even though he couldn't hear, my daughter said, "hello!" to him. I am grateful that my daughter sees even those people many of us forget to see. She sees homeless folk. She sees needy people.  She sees workers.  And she greets them all.  She reminds me to see, too, and to do the same.
        3.  Kindness. Striving to find kind words to say and little random acts to give to all those I encounter.  I am practicing being affirming because I see what a difference it can make.
        4. Humility.  It is easy for me to feel slighted.  I'll admit this. I struggle with self-esteem and because of that, I can take things very personally and feel insulted, undervalued and unloved.  Humility, or remembering that all of us are just people on the journey, imperfect, striving to be and do the best we can, helps me to stay centered and to not focus so much on how others treat or respond to me, but more, how I can treat and respond to others.
     
        There are so many other ways of behaving that we need to practice.  Choosing to react with love rather than fear.  Choosing to react with compassion and understanding rather than anger or hate. Choosing to react with a strong but steady presence rather than running in uncomfortable situations. All of these take practice.  But it's what we are called to do.  And the more we practice, the more automatic and easier these things become.  For me.  For you.  For all of us.

A heart for kindness

           It is clear that because of the separation and anonymity of car driving, we've come to feel that we don't have to treat people in other vehicles as people.  They are either "idiots" who don't move out of our way or they are "maniacs" who drive even more insanely than we do.  I've seen way too many people swerving around, honking at and yelling at other people in their cars this last week.  And so I've started the exercise of watching with my kids.  Does that swerving around and cutting the other person off actually end up saving the unkind driver any time at all?  Again and again we see the answer is "no".  They swerve around a person only to be stopped behind someone else at the next light.  They've managed to "get ahead" by one car space, but that half second won't make a difference if they are late. If their behavior made any difference at all, it was a negative one: it may have upset the person they swerved around, it may have hurt the feelings of the person they flipped off or called an idiot.  It may have succeeded in spreading rage and anger, and may have inspired equally unkind car behavior on the part of others. We've seen too many almost-accidents and it is very clear that it actually is life threatening in many cases, not only to the "other" in that car, but also to the person with the unkind car behavior.  Each time I wonder how much effort it would take to simply breathe and remember that the person in that other car may be a new mother, may have a child or two in the car, may be a grandparent, may be a teenager just learning to drive, may be someone who lost their spouse that day, may be someone who has just been given bad news about their own health, may be someone who lost a job or may be worried about a hundred other things and, whatever their circumstance, would undoubtedly benefit from kindness in this moment rather than the anger, rudeness and rage thrown their way.

        I will say honestly that my time in Ohio changed the way I drive.  Coming from the Bay Area, I thought everyone just drove this way, with an assertiveness that is actually aggression.  But in living in Ohio, I saw people intentionally let other people into their lanes.  I saw people slow down and let other cars merge with them, just because that was the kind thing to do.  I saw people practicing taking turns, and teaching their kids about sharing not only toys, but the road we drive on, without anger or rancor or rage.  Now that I'm back in the Bay Area, I continue to practice this way of driving, though it feels like I am a fish swimming up stream.  In dropping my kids off at school this morning, I saw a woman who was trying to turn onto the street where all of us were dropping off our kids.  Even though we were moving extremely slowly, I saw car after car block her ability to join our line.  "Really?" I thought.  "How is it helping you to not let one car in ahead of you?  Are you really in such a hurry that that half second will make all the difference in your day?"  So I slowed down, indicated that she should come in ahead.  I saw the look of sheer relief on her face as she mouthed "thank you!" and waved.  But the car behind me?  You'd think I had just thwarted his winning of an Olympic gold medal in race car driving.  Honk!  Honk!  Honk!
        What does it do to our hearts to practice being unkind in our cars?  And what does it do to our hearts to practice kindness occasionally instead?  How does our refusal to share the road with other drivers impact the way in which we share with others in all aspects of life?  If it is this easy to see the person in front of us behind their steal and glass vehicle as not-human, as sub-human, as unworthy of our caring and our sharing, how much harder will it be to share with people we've never met?  If it is so easy to label and box the other person in their car as an idiot or maniac rather than as a human being, how easy then is it for us to demonize and vilify whole categories of other people that we don't know?  Immigrants, refugees, people of color, people of different sexual orientation or genders, people with disabilities, older people, younger people, poor people, homeless people, people with mental disabilities and illnesses, people of other faith traditions, OTHER people?  I think the place we have moved as a country, this place of fearing others, of not wanting to share our land, our resources, our health care, our humanity... I think this starts with a very basic inability to share with those we encounter on a daily basis.  If we took seriously the kindergarten lesson about sharing, how would all of this change?
            Micah 6:8 is one of my favorite Bible passages.  It is simple.  It is straightforward.  My translation: What does God require of you but to do justice, love being kind, and walk humbly with God.  But we've come to a place of such fear around losing what we believe is "ours" that we fail in these very simple tasks, the simplest one of all being to act with kindness.  We have opportunities every single day to practice sharing the road (as well as other things) with those we encounter.  It may not be an easy thing to do in the face of the road rage out there, but again, I believe it is an opportunity for us to change our own hearts by practicing kindness, practice sharing, practice loving behavior towards strangers, towards your neighbors in this very simply, very easy way. Try it for a week.  See if it affects you for the better.  At the very least, it should lower your blood pressure to not be in such a stressed out hurry on the road.  At the most, perhaps it will help all of us grow bigger hearts for kindness.  And that could change everything.