Peace Talk for Brentwood Inspired Living Center

First of all, I want to thank Amy for inviting me to speak to you all today.  It is a real joy and privilege to be asked to talk about something that I think is so important for us, always, but perhaps especially in today’s world.  “Peace” is very elusive, especially during this time.  People are stressed because of the pandemic, social unrest, the weather, the smoke – days moved to weeks moved to months and now we’ve had a half year of “shelter in place” and “social distancing” and people are beginning to act out.  

I think about the post a friend of mine made on FB where he detailed waking up to find an intruder in his home.  The intruder grabbed a couple things and left.  No one was hurt, my friend was able to replace the missing items with fairly little trauma.  It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t scarring either.  Still, the responses that he received on FB were things like “You should have shot and killed that guy!  That would have taught him!”  And “Too bad you weren’t able to beat him up with a bat and permanently ruin his life!”  I was shocked by these responses, but probably shouldn’t have been.  We live in a culture where violence tends to escalate, and where people react with such intense anger that nothing short of death satisfies some people as the appropriate consequence for a stolen watch.  This is the world in which we dare to breathe words such as “peace”.  And that action of looking for and seeking peace is an act of courage in such a world.

The other day I was walking in a parking lot with my daughter at the grocery store (both of us with our masks on) and we were just about to get to the car to put in the groceries, when some rage-filled person started cursing and screaming at us.  I have no idea why.  I assumed at the time that it was because they wanted us to move more quickly to get our groceries in the car so they could have my spot, but, putting aside the fact that there were other open spaces, that just didn’t explain the rage that this person (who I had never seen before) was expressing.   Of course, the temptation for me then, as it often is for many of us I think, is to respond to that kind of anger with anger in return.  The temptation was to turn and yell back, to sarcastically critique his lack of vocabulary or to do something else that would have hurt him as much as he was upsetting me and my daughter.    

But in that moment, I found Martin Luther King Jr.’s comment rattling in my head when he said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”  The reality is we cannot get to peace, true peace, through anger, rage, hate or violence.  Those angry attacking responses leave people hurting, damaged, and that damage and hurt festers, and usually builds resentment and pain.  While violence may lead to a time of non-violence, there is a difference between peace and non-violence.  Peace is when people are okay within themselves and within their world.  Peace is when people see each other for the deeply connected siblings that we all are.  Peace is when we remember our deep connections to and within all creation.  Peace is when each person and each part of creation has enough, has what they need to live, to breathe, to survive.  That peace can never be full, real or profound when even one person is hurting.  

But responding to anger, violence or hatred with peace is hard.  So in that moment in the parking lot, I also found myself thinking about a Star Trek Next Generation episode in which all these different species are fighting to get this “thing” first, pieces of which have been planted into the different DNAs of different species across the galaxies.  Some species think what they will find when they solve the puzzle by putting all these pieces from their DNA together will be extreme wealth.  Others think it is massive power.  Some specifically think it is a powerful weapon.  All think that they better get it first and they are willing to kill one another to get it. They need each other’s piece of the puzzle to find whatever it is however, so they are all at the final place together; all gathered with their weapons out, preparing to fight to get it and claim it first for their people, their world, their community.  When they finally gather everything together, what they have been given is a message about how important it is to work together and find peace together in order for all to live.  The hologram that is produced by their DNA puzzle pieces gives the message that within each of them is a piece of one another, that they are literally within as well as among one another, and that it is only together they are whole.  But once they hear the message of peace and deep connection to one another, they respond by still trying to fight each other.  “We cannot possibly have anything in common,” one declares in rage, and “I would have killed her if she were alive” another says in response to the Hologram’s message.  They are so caught up in their anger that they cannot hear or see, and peace remains a distant, elusive dream for them all.  

     In Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, Gandalf said, “Some believe it is only great power that can hold evil in check.  But that is not what I have found.  I have found that it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay.  Small acts of kindness and love.” 

     As we seek to be people of peace, we have to start with the small, with the ordinary, with the opportunities we have to meet hatred and anger with kindness, compassion, and peace.    I thought about one of my heroes in life, Rev. Ben Weir.  He was a Presbyterian pastor who was working in Lebanon when he was kidnapped and held hostage.  He was held for 16 months as a hostage.  But after his experience, he did not come home seeking revenge, seeking the destruction of those who had kidnapped him.  Instead, he remained a voice for peace, for non-violent resolutions to problems.  I personally knew the man and he was, until the end, the most compassionate, sweetest man I have ever met.   

     There is a wonderful book titled “Tattoos of the Heart” written by Father Gregory Boyle.  He is a priest who works with gangs in LA, giving them work, jobs, a sense of belonging to something and to people who do not require violence or aggression as part of their membership rituals.  He writes about his experiences with these boys, these men, these families.  But his book begins with these words, “If there is a fundamental challenge within these stories, it is simply to change our lurking suspicion that some lives matter less than other lives.  William Blake wrote, ‘We are put on earth for a little space that we might learn to bear the beams of love.’ Turns out this is what we all have in common, gang member and nongang member alike: we’re just trying to learn how to bear the beams of love.” (pxiii).

     The idea of Ubuntu is that “a person becomes a person through other people” – we are deeply and completely connected to one another.  When I am injuring you, it is me, myself who is damaged in the process.  And when I am kind to you, I am offering that kindness to myself as well.  

     These ideas are the foundation of peace: the recognition of our interdependence, our interconnection, with all people, but more, with all of life.  

     All of these examples and thoughts flashed through my head in response to the man screaming at me at the parking lot.  And I made the decision in that moment to do other than I wanted to do.  I chose then to wave, to smile (though I’m sure he could not see that behind my mask), and to quickly get my groceries into the car so that he could have the spot.  Fortunately, the space across from me was empty so I pulled forward and out of the spot.  I saw that he did not take the spot, but continued to shriek at me and even follow me out of the parking lot.  I still have not one clue about why.  I asked my daughter who was with me if she could see why he was so angry, but she said "no", and finally we were able to pull away from the man and to drive home.  I acted the way I wanted to act.  I did not give him power to change my behavior from the peace I wanted to communicate and exude.  I did not give him the ability to make me angry or hateful or destructive.  I acted with the peace and compassion I choose to demonstrate.  But I have to admit, I did not feel peace after that interaction.  I was shaking with fear, with anger, with visions of yelling back, or calling the police or something else.  I felt torn up inside by a person I don't know, will never meet, who was just... ANGRY.  It didn't make me feel better to act with kindness.  It did not make me feel better to be kind in the face of that kind of anger/hate.  But it didn't make me feel worse either.  If I'd acted in anger, I would have felt more angry.  If I'd chosen rage, I probably would have felt guilt on top of everything else, if only for giving that example to my daughter.  Instead, after a few minutes had passed, I felt a bit of triumph that I had not allowed myself to be controlled or changed by his behavior.  And my soul moved to a place of acceptance, wondering what that man was suffering with, and peace within myself much more quickly than it would have done if I had acted in any other way.  

     There is a saying in many 12 step programs which is "Act as If."  The theory behind it is that you act your way into being someone else.  Act as if you are a peaceful person and you will become one. Act as if you are no longer angry and you will stop being angry.  Act happy and calm and confident and those feelings and attributes will follow.  That is my choice for now.  I don't know that it will always work.  I don't know that I can always think of the kind way to respond in the face of anger or hate.  But I can try.   And perhaps in trying, I will become more the person of peace that I want to be.

I may not change the world.  I may make no difference at all in the scheme of things.  But I also will not let the world make me more angry, hateful or fearful.  I don't choose that, for myself or for those around me who are affected by my behavior.  For today, I hope that is enough.  

Peace is elusive in this time.  But it must start and end with each one of us choosing to be beacons, voices, examples of the peace we hope to find.  We create the world around us one word, one act, one choice at a time.  For today, let that choice be for peace.

Reformation Sunday - 10/27/19

Job 42:1-17

Mark 10:46-52

Today is Reformation Sunday, the day we celebrate that because the Catholic Church at the time was going through a period of being stuck, many people chose to leave that church and begin their own to continue to find life, indeed to continue to find God in their sanctuaries.  Reformation Sunday is the day we celebrate change, the day we honor movement, the day we raise up a banner and say, “yes, we truly are the church reformed and always reforming (our reformation motto) despite how challenging that is for each and every one of us at different times and in different ways.”

Change.  As both the reformation and today’s scriptures show us, God calls us into change.  God doesn’t and won’t just leave us comfortable. God doesn’t call us to be “comfortable”.  In order to understand this more fully, I want to take a moment to look more deeply into the book of Job.  Does anyone remember how the book begins?  It begins with a deal made between God and Satan to “test” Job.  That test involved taking everything away from Job, little by little, to see how he’d react.  

Putting that beginning aside for a moment, let’s look at it from Job’s perspective.  Job believed that if he was good, if he had integrity, if he was righteous that his life would be rewarded.  His friends thought the same.  They all thought that living right equaled riches and prosperity in this life., and visa versa – that having riches and prosperity was a sign that you were blessed by God.  And so, even when things were not going well, Job believed that if he continued to not argue with God, not confront God, that he would again be rewarded.  But as we know, and as we see in this story, this is wong.  Yes, many people whom we call “prosperity Christians” continue to believe that God is Santa Claus, rewarding the good and punishing the bad.  But this is not an accurate reflection, at all, of what scripture tells us, starting here with the story of Job and continuing throughout scripture.  God did not leave Job comfortable.  Instead, Job faced hardships beyond his imagining.  He lost almost everything, he suffered, despite his “righteousness”.  Eventually, God called him to change, to move, to see things in a different way.  God challenged him to act differently.  And as we know from the story of Job, he did act differently.  Rather than being quiet and just accepting, he yelled out, he hollered out at God, and was rewarded by God’s showing up and showing Job a new vision of who God was. 

The Catholic Church also thought that if they just continued on the same path, that they would continue to be powerful and “pleasing” to God.  But as we know, everything changes.  And if we aren’t actively changing, transforming, striving to become more godly, more loving and more compassionate to the needs of others, of all of God’s people, then we are changing for the worse.  Martin Luther challenged what was happening in the church.  He had no intention of starting his own church in doing so.  He simply called the Catholic Church to change the ways in which it was hurting people and failing to take into account the current needs of God’s people.  He called them to task.  But they could not change at that time.  And because of that, they lost a huge number of their people to the Protestant Reformation as people discovered that if they were not going to be able to change their church into a place where they could again find God, they would have to start something new instead.

While all of our churches have changed much since that period of time, we also know that at some level all of our churches also continue to struggle with being stuck.  Seven years ago a columnist I follow named Regina Brett, a very faithful Catholic, wrote an article calling the Catholic Church to reformation again.  Some of what she wrote includes, “most Catholics have already voted with their feet.  They have left or become “C and E Catholics.”  I confess I’ve been tempted to quit for good.  I’m not alone.”  She continues, “The pope has called for a year of faith”…”how about opening our minds to what else God might want to do with us and with this church?...God is still speaking.  Is anyone … listening?”

It is because of this refusal to listen to God, to God’s people, and to be open to change that we had the Protestant reformation.  Diana Butler Bass says, “Luther and his associates were protesters rather than reformers—they stood up against the religious conventions of the day, arguing on behalf of those suffering under religious, social, and economic oppression. …In the United States, Protestantism has often been torn between the impulse to protest (the abolition movement, women’s rights movements, the Civil Rights movement) and the complacency of content by virtue of being the majority religion. After all, if you are the largest religious group in society—if you shape the culture—what do you protest?  Yourself?”

Bruce Epperly put it this way, “Reformation faith is forward, rather than backward-looking, evolving rather than static, at home in this world, rather than in a previous age or a heavenly realm.”

But the unfortunate truth is that Protestant Churches, those who claim to be reformative, are “stuck” as well.  Change is hard.  And we are not keeping “at home in this world rather than a previous age” with a great deal of success.  As a result, there is a new movement “out” of the Protestant Church just as in the Protestant reformation there was a large movement out of the Catholic Church.  While Protestants used to be 2/3^rd of this country, as of 2012, they were at 48%.  That number continues to decrease and one article I read said with all the growing “nones” and “dones” the percentage is now closer to 35%.  Many people are simply leaving the Christian church altogether, but others are just leaving denominationalism, especially Protestant churches.  They are fed up with many of what they call “archaic” practices, and in some cases the archaic theology, in our worship.  They are seeking something new.  And while we could point out the problems with “feel good” worship and with “entertainment” worship, the churches that are not stepping forward into the future are simply not stepping into a future at all.  As I’ve mentioned before, the number of churches that are closing in our country is astounding.  To put it in perspective, 9 Presbyterian churches a week are closing.  That is just the Presbyterian Church.  Other protestant denominations are all experiencing the same thing as our younger members especially leave for more “progressive” worship styles or leave the faith entirely.

God calls all of us to continue to move forward.  Therefore God’s answer to Job, and Jesus’ answer to Bartimaeus did not just leave them where they were or call them to a life of ease and comfort.  Even as God restored Job’s fortunes, God still did not leave Job comfortable.  Job was a righteous man, beyond what we are, beyond what we do.  His integrity was beyond question (even to himself), but Walter Brueggemann points beyond "integrity" and "goodness" to a life of praise centered on God's own goodness. "Yes, hang on to your integrity, Job, for it is never questioned," Brueggemann writes: "But learn a second language. Learn to speak praise and yielding which let you cherish your virtue less tightly" (("A Bilingual Life" in The Threat of Life)).  Job had thought that his happiness, his well-being was dependent on his actions, and on his commitment to living with integrity.  But our identity, worth, and well-being is not determined by our successes and failures, by our actions, by our virtuous living, even, but by God's gift alone.  And so eventually Job was given the sight to see that his “virtue” and “righteousness” was not actually what mattered.  Instead, it was his relationship with God that mattered.  It was not following the rules to a tee.  That is not how he would find meaning and purpose or be “rewarded” with riches or goods.  He had to think beyond the riches and goods of this life to the real gifts of God.  Those real gifts of God begin with relationship with God.  That is the gift.  A gift deeply worth celebrating, and more, worth cultivating.

Bartimaeus, too, was not allowed to just celebrate his new sight.  He was called to radical change as well.  He answered that call by following Jesus after he gained his sight.

I have to say, I realize there is grief involved in change.  Always.  And I need to acknowledge that reality.  Carl Denis wrote a poem called Editing Job that I think describes that loss well.  He wrote:

I'd cut the prologue, where God agrees

To let his opponent, Satan,

Torment our hero merely to prove

What omniscience must know already:

That Job's devotion isn't dependent

On his prosperity. And how foolish of God

If he supposes that Satan, once proven wrong,

Will agree to forego his spite against creation

For even a minute.

I'd keep the part where Job disdains

His friends' assumption that somehow

He must be to blame for his suffering,

And the part where he makes a moving appeal

To God for an explanation.

I'd drop God's irrelevant, angry tirade

About might and majesty versus weakness.

The issue is justice. Is our hero

Impertinent for expecting his god

To practice justice as well as preach it,

For assuming the definition of justice

That holds on earth holds as well above?

Abraham isn't reproved in Genesis

For asking, when God decides to burn Sodom,

If it's fair to lump the good with the wicked.

Let Job be allowed to complain

About his treatment as long as he wants to,

For months, for decades,

And in this way secure his place forever

In the hearts of all who believe

That suffering shouldn't be silent,

That grievances ought to be aired completely,

Whether heard or not.

As for the end, if it's meant to suggest

That patience will be rewarded, I'd cut it too.

Or else I suggest at least adding a passage

Where God, after replenishing Job's possessions,

Comes to the tent where the man sits grieving

To ask his pardon. How foolish of majesty

To have assumed that Job's new family,

New wife and children and servants,

Would be an ample substitute for the old.

           

Change involves loss.  It leads to grief.  But still, the question is, always, when we come to see who Jesus is, are we willing to go through some grief in order to change our lives into those God calls us to live?  Are we willing to change what feels “comfortable and easy”?  Are we willing to let go of what we think we want, what we think will make us happy, and instead to be open to the path Jesus wants us to go, to follow in the way, in the path of a man who ends up dead before he ends up resurrected?  Does our faith, does our encounter with the living Christ make a difference for us?  The question on Reformation Sunday is, again: are we willing to give up what is comfortable and easy as a church to follow Jesus?  Are we willing to step out to hear what the people of God, God’s children, all of God’s people really need to experience God’s love, God’s grace and God’s presence in this place at this time?

            That is the question that we are constantly called to ask as we continue to seek to be a church that is reformed and always reforming.  Amen.

On Being Left Out

Jer. 2:4-13

Luke 14:1, 7-14

There was a wonderful scene in an old Big Bang episode ( episode 20, season 8, “The fortification implementation") that went like this:

Sheldon: Do you think there comes a point in life when it stops feeling bad to be left out of things?

Amy: Probably not. It’s an evolutionary advantage to be included in group activities.

Sheldon: You know what? I used to be a fan of evolution, but I’ve since evolved, and now I think it’s dumb.

Amy: Being left out is a terrible feeling. No one understands that better than I do.

Sheldon: Hey, look at that. Even in your example, you’re all by yourself.

Amy: When there was a lice epidemic at my school, everybody got it except me. I tried to fool everyone by sprinkling sugar in my hair, but I just got attacked by bees.

Sheldon: I can just picture them all right now at Feynman’s house, probably discussing Schrodinger and at the same time, not discussing Schrodinger. See? They’re missing out on hilarious jokes like that.

Amy: And at the same time, not.

Sheldon: It reminds me of when my stupid brother and sister would build forts in the living room and wouldn’t let me in. I hated that so much.

Amy: You know, there’s nothing I can do about getting you invited to the symposium, but if you wanted, we could build a fort.

Sheldon: Isn’t that a little juvenile?

Amy: More juvenile than this?

Sheldon: I’ll get the blankets. You Google how to have childlike fun.

       I love what Amy says in this scene, because I don’t think it does matter how old we get.  Being left out feels bad.  And while we consider it childish to feel that way, I don’t actually think it is.  I think it’s very human.  I think that all of us can probably recall a time when we felt left out. Probably many of us can recall a recent time when we felt that way.  Maybe it was friends getting together when we were not invited.  Maybe it was a party we were not invited to.  Maybe there was a group that met once, or even regularly that we were never invited to join.  Maybe there was a time when you were invited but somehow felt like a third wheel.  Maybe there was someone you really valued who had a close inner circle that you just couldn’t seem to break into.  Whatever the situation, I think there are times for all of us that we have felt or do feel left out.  And it never feels good.  No matter how old we get, no matter how much wisdom we gain through our lives, no matter what we tell ourselves: “They’ve been friends much longer,” “Why would I want to be friends with someone who doesn’t want to be friends with me?”  “You can’t please all the people all the time,”… it still hurts when we feel unloved, uncared for, unimportant, and unvalued.

But as bad as it feels, for all of us, to be left out, I think we also like the times when we can be with our own small groups, which means we are also, probably all of us, at times, guilty of leaving others out.  It doesn’t matter that we know how it feels to be on the receiving end of this.  We still do it in a variety of settings.  We justify this in all kinds of ways.  “Well, isn’t it right and important to have time with friends?”  “Don’t we all need safe places and people that we deeply connect with that we spend time with?”  “I’m not going to be my best in the world if I don’t have the love and support of my inner community.” 

All of these reasons sound good.  They all make sense.  We, as humans, do need support from one another, we do need relationships that heal us and nurture us.  We need to have friends or family that we are especially close to.  And yet, we come to today’s scripture reading, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid.  But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.  Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

What Jesus is actually confronting here is a practice of posturing for position.  The first part of the passage I read you today is connected to the second part: he challenging both the vying for important seats at a hosts table and the inviting of only certain guests because both were a way of claiming one’s status, claiming one’s position.  We know there are people who still do this.  There are still people striving hard to climb the social ladder who work to connect with and associate only with those of a “higher” class or social standing than themselves.  They don’t want to be seen with their old associates for fear of being categorized with them.  The “nouveau riche” work hard, often, to be accepted by “old money” into that clan of upper class, but it is other people as well.  Still, I don’t believe this tends to be a middle class issue as much.  Still, while we don’t focus on social standing in the same way, and I don’t think anyone here is guilty of inviting those they see as “above themselves” for the purpose of raising their social position, none the less, we still are challenged by this passage to avoid isolating or secluding ourselves within our own groups, economically, socially, and in terms of our own friend groups.  We are called to expand our group of influence and association beyond those with whom we are the most comfortable, who keep us easy and who can just be supports and serve us as we serve them.  We are called to associate more with those with whom the relationship will be more one-sided: we will be doing more of the giving and caring, we will be offering what cannot be returned.  We are called to not only care for them at a distance, but to invite them in: to dine with them, to have them at our parties and our gatherings.  And none of us are comfortable with this.  We just aren’t.  We want those around us, especially those we invite into our homes, to have something in common with us, to be people we like.  And we want to be happy and comfortable in our social settings.

When my children were little I joined a local mothers group which divided us into playgroups with women who had babies the same age.  I loved my little playgroup.  When Middle was born, I tried to join another one that had new babies the same age as his.  One I attended kicked me out after the first time because, “well, all the rest of us are first time mothers.  That’s different!”  Obviously, this still smarts a little.  I tend to remember, as most of us no-doubt do,  the times of being left out more than the times of leaving out, and yet I know I am equally guilty of the latter.

While in Cleveland I was part of a wonderful Lectionary group.  We were 12 pastors, all tending to be very like-minded, who gathered on a weekly basis to discuss the scripture readings for the following week, to plan our sermons.  We also ate together, prayed together, supported one another through whatever was going on in each of our lives.  I was and am deeply grateful for that group.  They saw me through very hard times and were really a “house church” in the truest sense of the word in terms of the support, the community building, the fellowship and friendship.  But joining this group was by invitation only.  I understood why it was set up that way: again, we were a safe place in large part because we were like-minded in our reading of scripture and our understanding of God’s call for our lives.  At the same time, I struggled with this aspect of the group.  I mean we were pastors, after all – called to follow scriptures like this one that encourage much greater openness and inclusion.  If others had come, well, yes, the group would have changed.  But perhaps it would have become something equally good, though different.  Perhaps we would have had more learning and more growth by being with people of a different mind-set, a different leaning.  Perhaps it would have become a place where we practiced loving those who are different from ourselves.  Again, it would have meant change.  And change is uncomfortable.  But that is what Jesus calls us to do: to expand, to include, and to stop putting up walls that decide who is in and who is out, even at the basic level of who we invite to dinner and who we don’t. 

It’s not just that we want to be comfortable and attractive in our homes and with our friends, we do this in subtle and not so subtle ways even in our churches.  In one of the congregations I served, one of our less “acceptable” members wanted to be a greeter.  She had problems with cleanliness, not bathing often enough she smelled a bit, her hair looked unkept.  She also had problems socially – always standing a little too close, sharing too much, laughing too loud, saying inappropriate things.  But she was very friendly, very outgoing, she really cared about others, and she really wanted to be a greeter.  Several people in my church were afraid that would make us unattractive.  They worried that it would send the wrong message to have someone like that in such a position; that if we allowed this young woman to be a greeter, that the “right people” might not come or want to join the church. While I understood that thinking, I believe this passage attacks that pretty directly.  The “right people” to have in one’s church are people exactly like her: those others don’t want to include, those who don’t “fit in”, those we are called most deeply and fully to welcome, accept, and love.

We exclude in subtle ways too.  We talk over people who talk too much.  We don’t look at people we don’t like or want around us.  We shout down those who say things that make us uneasy.  We are all guilty in one way or another.

In the kingdom of God, the outcasts are equal, or superiors because after all, “the first shall be last,” to those who are more comfortable, who have more money, who succeed more easily, who are socially adept.  Those people who are “not like us” and who make us uneasy sit at the table with us and they eat with us.  Our enemies are the very people we are expected to spend our time with, and the ones we look down on are those we will be feeding.  But we are called to begin this now, in this place, this day.

I look at my Youngest.  She has not yet learned to exclude in this way.  She has a solid friend group at school, but she also has a person in that friend group who is always inviting new people to come and eat lunch with them, to join them.  This particular group of friends seems to delight in welcoming, in including, those who might otherwise be lost at school.  The kids invited seem mostly to be youth who were not part of this school district or school system before: new kids who are searching for their place.  But occasionally they invite someone in who is just awkward and struggles to find acceptance elsewhere.  This wonderful group of friends welcomes these new kids with open arms, with excitement.  They have not learned to exclude.  And in their actions I learn how to be better myself.

I came across a poem I would like to share with you:

(Tattoos of the Heart: p 17)

With That Moon Language

Admit something:

Everyone you see, you say to them,

 “Love me”. 

Of course you do not do this out loud:

Otherwise,

Someone would call the cops. 

Still though, think about this,

This great pull in us to connect. 

Why not become the one

Who lives with a full moon in each eye

That is always saying

With that sweet moon

Language

What every other eye in this world

Is dying to

Hear. 

- Hafez

               My challenge for all of us this week is to look more closely at the ways in which we leave others out.  And to take the challenge to invite others to join.  When you next have a gathering, invite one or two people you don’t normally invite.  When you go out to lunch next time, think of including someone you wouldn’t normally include.  When you have a party, try to invite someone you know would like to be invited that you really aren’t as comfortable with.  Think about those who might be feeling left out.  See if there is anyone who is needing a friend and choose to seek them out.  Take the chance of reaching out to someone different.  Draw your circles of inclusion in all things a little wider.  And see what gifts come back to you.  Amen.

To Love as Called, Part II

Matthew 18:15-22

Luke 6:27-45

Last week I preached on how loving one another is hard and involves being patient, kind and truthful.  I said that sometimes the being truthful part is especially difficult.  But that loving one another doesn’t just mean being nice, but really means being willing to help one another grow – which sometimes means telling people truths that may be hard to tell, truths that may be hard to hear. 

Well today I want to follow up on that with the other side of the coin, because, as some have pointed out, there are some people who, in the name of “truth,” are also nothing but critical.  Often these people are also critical in a way that is impossible to hear, and impossible to actually grow from.  And I just want to assure you that this was not what I am advocating.  Again, if loving is working towards the highest spiritual good for the other, we have to find ways to live in truth and peace with one another that won’t tear each other down.

Todays’ reading from Matthew is very clear that we are to confront each other when we have been injured by one another – something we’ve talked about not just last week, but other times as well.  Still, when we do tell the truth, when we do confront one another, we have to find loving ways to do this.  Because while the passages that encourage truth telling are important, we have more passages that tell us that first and foremost the job is to support one another and uplift one another. 

For example, Romans 14:10-13 says, “You, then, why do you judge your brother? Or why do you look down on your brother? For we will all stand before God's judgment seat. It is written:  'As surely as I live,' says the Lord, 'every knee will bow before me; every tongue will confess to God.'  So then, each of us will give an account of himself to God.  Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother's way.”

Romans 12:9-10 “Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. ¹⁰Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.”

Romans 12:15-20  “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.  Live in harmony with one another.  Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position.  Do not be conceited.  Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.  Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.  On the contrary: If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink."

And, as we read from Luke today, Jesus is clear that we are not to be critical of one another without serious introspection, and self-reflection first.  We are to look at our own flaws first and work hard to remove them, before we ever even consider saying something to someone else.  Jesus still says that we do this in order to help the other.   “first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.”  So, we still aren’t let off the hook from helping one another grow, too. 

But again, we are first called to look at our own flaws, our own challenges, our own areas of growth.  These, then, can help us to help one another. 

 A young couple moved into a new neighborhood. The next morning while they are eating breakfast, the young woman saw her neighbor hanging the wash outside. "That laundry is not very clean; she doesn't know how to wash correctly. Perhaps she needs better laundry soap."

Her husband looked on, remaining silent. Every time her neighbor hung her wash to dry, the young woman made the same comments. A month later, the woman was surprised to see a nice clean wash on the line and says to her husband: "Look, she's finally learned how to wash correctly. I wonder who taught her this? "

The husband replies, "I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows."

But today I especially want to talk about how we discuss our criticisms with others.

            In book two of  Anne of Green Gables series, Anne of Avonlea, Anne has made friends with a crotchety old man who is very critical of others.  (p.66 – 67)

“That old nuisance of a Rachel Lynde was here again today, pestering me for a subscription towards buying a carpet for the vestry room,” said Mr. Harrison wrathfully.  “I detest that woman more than anybody I know.  She can put a whole sermon, text, comment, and application into six words, and throw it at you like a brick.”

…(Anne replied), “The trouble is, you and Mrs. Lynde don’t understand one another,” she explained.  “That is always what is wrong when people don’t like each other.  I didn’t like Mrs. Lynde at first either, but as soon as I came to understand her I learned to.”

“Mrs. Lynde may be an acquired taste with some folks, but I didn’t keep on eating bananas because I was told I’d learn to like them if I did,” growled Mr. Harrison.  “And as for understanding her, I understand that she is a confirmed busybody and I told her so.”

“Oh, that must have hurt her feelings very much,” said Anne reproachfully.  “How could you say such a thing?  I said some dreadful things to Mrs. Lynde long ago but it was when I had lost my temper.  I couldn’t say them deliberately.”

“It was the truth and I believe in telling the truth to everybody.”

“But you didn’t tell the whole truth,” objected Anne.  “You only tell the disagreeable part of the truth.  Now, you’ve told me a dozen times that my hair was red, but you’ve never once told me that I had a nice nose.”

“I daresay you know it without any telling,” chuckled Mr. Harrison.

“I know I have red hair too.. although it’s much darker than it used to be.. so there’s no need of telling me that either.”

“Well, well.  I’ll try and not mention it again since you’re so sensitive.  You must excuse me, Anne.  I’ve got a habit of being outspoken and folks mustn’t mind it.”

“But they can’t help minding it.  And I don’t think it’s any help that it’s your habit.  What would you think of a person who went about sticking pins and needles into people and saying, ‘Excuse me, you mustn’t mind it. It’s just a habit I’ve got.’ You’d think he was crazy, wouldn’t you?  And as for Mrs. Lynde being a busybody, perhaps she is.  But did you tell her she had a very kind heart and always helped the poor, and never said a word when Timothy Cotton stole a crock of butter out of her dairy and told his wife he’d bought it from her?  Mrs. Cotton cast it up to her the next time they met that it tasted of turnips and Mrs. Lynde just said she was sorry it had turned out so poorly.”

“I suppose she has some good qualities,” conceded Mr. Harrison grudgingly.  “Most folks have….”

As Anne put it so eloquently, it isn’t the whole truth to just criticize.  And we have to be careful about judging others.  You know the quote, “When given the choice between being right and being kind, choose to be kind.”  Wayne Dyer. 

I don’t know if any of you know anything about William’s syndrome, but it is a disease in which the person who has it cannot be discriminating and instead just loves and trusts everyone.  There is gift in that.  But sometimes people become extremely uncomfortable with that kind of care and love from a total stranger.  There was a show on PBS that was talking about this disease and a mom was sharing that her daughter had this condition.  People who didn’t know that she was struggling with a condition would sometimes yell at the mother out of their own discomfort or fear for the girl, “Haven’t you taught her to be careful of strangers?  It is extremely dangerous for her to just walk up to someone and sit on their lap, or climb in their car, or take someone’s hand!  What’s the matter with you for not teaching her these things?!!”  And we understand their judgment.  When we do not understand the whole of any situation, it is easy for us to judge.  Who here does not have judgment about someone about something;  Something someone said, something someone has done, something someone believes, something someone is? 

I’d like to ask you to think for a moment about the things that you judge in others.  Are there specific things or attitudes or behaviors that you find yourself judging in others?  Are there reasons why you have those specific judgments?  Past experiences?  Maybe it is hard to understand certain things?  As the Matthew passage tells us, even as the Luke passage tells us, in the case of our families, our friends, our church communities, and even others, there is a time and place for the gentle corrections that lead to growth.  But we have to speak without judgment.  We have to speak because of a genuine desire to serve the other.  We have to speak out of love.  If we aren’t, if we are speaking in anger, or judgment, or worse, in hatred, then we are not doing what we are called to do.  Speak your truth…speak with love….but try to speak the whole truth, including the good stuff. 

Psychologists give us a formula for this, a formula for confrontation which may seem hokey, but at least for me, I have found it to actually be very affective, very helpful.  It helps me to speak my truth.  More importantly, I believe it also helps the other person hear what I’m saying.  The formula is something like this: 1. You speak your care for the other person. 2.  You speak an affirmation about what is going well in the situation.  3. Then you talk about the thing that has upset you in terms of your own feelings and the way the other’s behavior has affected you.  For example, “I love you.  You are wonderful as a parent/teacher/friend.   AND, when you do x, I feel __________.”   

Today’s passage in Matthew follows the mandate to confront by telling us that we must forgive.  Forgiveness is also a part of all of this.  But as you see, forgiveness does not mean just forgetting about what someone has done, or failing to hold someone accountable.  Instead, it means dealing with a problem and then letting it go.  If you can’t deal directly with a problem because the person you are upset with isn’t willing or isn’t available, then you finally have to work it out within yourself, bring healing in yourself and forgive for your own sake.  As I’ve talked about before, our anger only hurts ourselves.  But most of the time, we are simply afraid to speak our truths.

Loving is not easy.  It involves kindness, it involves truth.  It is all the things that last week's passage from 1 Corinthians 13 mentioned: patience, faith, steadfastness.  But the author of love itself is there to help us.  And that is good news indeed.

To Love as Called

                                                1 Cor 13:1-13

John 13:33-35

1 John 3:11-18, 4:7-12

Most of you are probably familiar with this First Corinthians passage on love.  Where is it most often used?  Weddings.  The first time a couple I married asked to use this Corinthian passage, I found myself thinking it was odd and ironic because this passage was written to a church that was undergoing strife.  Paul is talking to a congregation in which the members are fighting with each other and Paul is trying to tell them how, in the midst of their discord and disharmony, they are still called to love and care for one another.  He says in the midst of your anger, in the midst of your dislike, even, you are called to find patience, and humility, you are called to be truthful, to trust and hope and persevere and work towards harmony.  You are called in the midst of pain to avoid self-righteousness and keeping score of wrongs.  And twenty years ago, I thought, what an odd thing that a couple in the height of new love, in the high of falling in love, would choose a passage in which they are being lectured on how to survive, how to be loving, in the midst of pain and strife and struggle.

But the more I have worked with this passage, and no doubt with the longer I’ve lived through a marriage, a divorce and now in another marriage, I have come to see it as the perfect wedding passage, for exactly the reason that it was written to a congregation in strife.  For no marriage, no matter how ideal, is without conflict or difficulties.  No marriage should be without conflict because we are called to come to every relationship honestly and wholly ourselves.  That honesty will necessarily lead to differences with others.  Those differences will cause disagreements, and sometimes those disagreements will cause strife.

           But obviously, it is not just in marriage that we are called to work through conflict and find ways to love one another.  And as this passage and all of scripture shows us, learning to truly love others is not easy.  It is not easy.  Scott Peck defines love as “the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.”  I love this definition and want to read it to you again.  Love, according to Peck, is “the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.”  This definition says several things which I think are valuable, two of which I want to point out today.  First, love is an action exercised by the will.  Love, in the biblical understanding of the word, is not a feeling, it is not a liking. It is a decision and then an act of the will.  We care for one another, we love one another not by feeling strongly about them, but by acting in the other’s best interest.  Secondly, this definition tells us that the highest end of love, according to Scott Peck, is growth - Spiritual growth.  We love by caring for and wanting the best growth for the person to whom we are extending love.  Notice that by this definition, acting loving does not mean making the other comfortable.  It does not mean flattering the other.  It does not mean making nice.  It does not mean leaving uncomfortable situations, either.  Is it loving to walk away from difficult people?  It isn’t loving towards those difficult people.
          We often hide our unloving behavior under the guise of “politeness.”  Of course, there are noted exceptions.  Have any of you seen the PBS miniseries of Jane Eyre that was originally aired about eight years ago, or even read the book?  In both I was struck by Jane’s refusal to lie to Mr. Rochester when he wanted to be flattered.  “Am I handsome, Jane?”  He asks.  “Not in the least,” she answered.  In the book, even more than in the movie, Jane is committed to Mr. Rochester’s highest growth, highest spiritual good, without regard of whether it might cause Mr. Rochester to care for her less, or whether her comments might hurt his feelings.  One conversation in particular struck me.  Mr. Rochester admitted to Jane that he had done a great wrong.  For many of us today, this would have been a solicitation for us to be comforting to the one who did the wrong.  “Oh, no, you aren’t wrong.” or “What you did isn’t as bad as you think.” Or, “Well, I’m sure it all worked out okay.” Or, “Even if it was bad, it’s okay because you didn’t really mean to hurt so-and-so.  And you’re really sorry now, so it’s okay.”  But Jane, instead, does not deny the wrong.  Instead she encourages repentance, reformation, the making of amends, and the commitment to do better.  This is love, truth, and a call for growth from one another.
           Have any of you seen the movie “Borat”?  Well, it’s actually a very offensive movie, but still, there is much in it that we can learn about ourselves, and about love. Sacha Baron Cohen, playing the character of Borat, approached different people using highly offensive words and behavior.  The behavior of those he approached was then recorded, and generally speaking, their reactions fell into three categories.  Some responded to Borat’s offensiveness by acting in kind with similar racist, sexist, offensive and horrible behavior.  Other people, people who would take serious offense at the ideas Borat expressed, were simply ruled more by manners, or perhaps by fear of confrontation than by love.  These people allowed Borat to express his terrible offensive ideas and even to act on them, but did nothing to defend the people Borat would insult or even injure, did nothing to stand up for or care for those who would be injured.  Additionally, they could not see Borat as someone they were also called to love, someone they might help, however unlikely it might be, by presenting another view point, another choice of a way to act in the world.  While I agree it was unlikely that their expression of better thought would really have changed the Borat character, even if he had been a real person, not a character, God does not put us in charge of the outcome of our loving actions, God simply calls us to act in love despite all possible outcomes.  
           There was a third reaction to his behavior. There were a few people who chose a different reaction, a very few people who did chose to act in love.  When Borat approached women from a group called the Veteran Feminists of America, with sexist, racist, horrible ideas, these women did choose, articulately and respectfully, to respond to Borat by suggesting other viewpoints.  They acted in love, even in the face of horrible, insulting, attacking ideas.  And while the character of Borat did not respond to their loving behavior by showing change or growth, it is again, not our job to determine the outcome of loving efforts.  It is only our job to choose love.
             It is hard to act loving.
             Aikido is a martial art based on the principle of peace. The founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, said, “To control aggression without inflicting injury is the art of peace.”  It is in that spirit that he developed the martial art of Aikido.  It is a form of self-defense which attempts to respond to an aggressor’s attacks by moving the aggressor’s energy away from violence or injury into a movement in which aggression is diffused and diminished.  The word Aikido uses a combination of three Japanese characters - joining, spirit, and way.  It emphasizes one-ness or blending together rather than clashing.  Practitioners of Aikido attempt to join in the rhythm and direction of the other person’s energy, and in doing so, the aggressive action becomes more dance-like, it becomes a joining rather than a fighting.  Aikido then seems to me to be an amazing way of practicing love.  It takes a flaw of another - it takes aggression, or anger, or violence.  And instead of returning anger for anger, instead of seeking revenge or striking out, aikido works for the highest good of the other and attempts to show that anger or aggression a new way: to mold it, to turn it, to spin it into an act of peace, without injury.
           What would happen in our world if we genuinely embraced Jesus’ principles of love?  What would happen, if instead of responding to the violence of things like war with more violence, more hatred, more aggression, we instead committed to loving our enemies and working towards their highest growth and highest gain?  What if we found ways to take negative, aggressive energy and use it towards genuine acts of peace, if our goal in acting was that we “controlled aggression without inflicting injury?”  If we are truly about loving the other, loving our enemy, then we cannot respond to aggression with more aggression.  It is not loving to try to hurt anyone, anytime, anyway.  How do we act with love both towards those we would defend and our enemies whom we are also called to love?  Turning the other cheek, loving our enemy, turning aggression into something else, something beautiful, something unifying, something graceful may be the challenge we are called to as we are called to love one another.  It is hard to act loving.
           While I don’t really enjoy watching American Idol, there was a time, fifteen years ago or so, when it was often on in my house, through no choice of my own, so I ended up watching a number of episodes.  On one of these American Idol evenings, we watched auditions that took place in Birmingham Alabama.  One of the interesting things that seemed to separate out the contestants in Birmingham from those in other places was their responses to the comments of the judges.  In other cities, when the judges, Simon in particular, became rude, many of the contestants would argue with his critiques, or return insult for insult: they would strike out at those who had struck out at them.  But in Birmingham, many of the contestants responded to the critiques with simple, “Thank yous.”  And I found myself thinking that this was a case in which the loving thing and the polite thing were, in fact, the same.  Maybe they said “thank you” because they genuinely understood that they could learn and grow from the critique.  Maybe they said “thank you” because they were genuinely thankful for the opportunity to audition and for the judges spending a little time with them that day.  Maybe they were simply being polite.  But whatever the reason, their politeness had an effect on the judges.  Maybe not a long lasting one.  But again, we are not responsible for the results of our loving behaviors.  I saw surprise and moments of genuine reflection cross the judges faces as they had to ask themselves why people were thanking them, even for their cruel and insulting rejections.  What’s more, as the evening went on, their attacks became less cruel, and turned into more constructive critique.  And I have to hope that in the face of others behaving better than they themselves usually do, that maybe they might reflect on ways they could continue to present their critiques less hurtfully, less harshly, with more truth, and also with more love.    
            It is not easy to love.  It is not easy to be patient, and kind and truthful in the face of rudeness, in the face of aggression, in the face of hatred.  And yet it is our call: the only call besides loving God.  The passage we read today from John tells us this is the defining call of Christians: loving each other, this is what sets us apart from other people.  What sets us apart as people of Christ, as Christians, is how we act.  Choosing to love, choosing the hard task of working to care for one another and even for our enemies, that is what will show you to be a disciple of Christ.
          While not easy, the good news in this call to love is shown to us in the 1^st John passage which tells us the reward for loving.  “If we love one another, God lives in us and God’s love is made complete in us.”  This is our reward: we have God, God-self, living in us and making God’s love complete in us through our loving.  What an awesome thing.  What an awesome opportunity for us.
          So, go, love, and find God within you, building God’s temple, bringing love to completion.  In Christ’s name we pray.  Amen.

"Interesting" Attitudes from Volunteer Coordinators...

     As I've done my usual volunteer activities at various places over the last month, I was struck with a weird sense that at several of these places, I was meeting the same person with different faces, and it was a person I thought very ill-fitted for the job of managing volunteers.  To be more specific, these are people who seem extremely controlling of the people they are in the position to oversee.  Keeping in mind that the people who are coming to work for them are volunteers donating their time for something they believe in, the managers overbearing, unkind, and extremely picky behavior could potentially chase off the people they need in order to provide the service.  So I've found myself thinking and reflecting a great deal this last month on what is really going on with these volunteer managers.

       To give specifics: I was helping prepare food at a place that serves the poorer community out here with daily meals (not going to name te place... not fair since they really do a wonderful service in the community).  One other woman and I were cutting vegetables for a salad, when the person who was in charge that day came over and was very, well, clear about the fact that she wanted the vegetables cut all uniform (whether they were carrots, tomatoes, cucumber, lettuce, radishes, bell peppers, onions, etc.) in these extremely precisely sized cubes.  Not only was this impossible for me, but I could not figure out why this was necessary.

         Finally, I just asked, "Why do all of these vegetables need to be exactly the same shape and size?"

        "Well, some of the guests don't have teeth."  I stared down at the vegetables.  That didn't actually answer the question for me.  There was no way that someone without teeth was going to be able to handle a carrot of any shape or size, and I thought that if all the vegetables were exactly this same cubed size and shape, it actually might be harder on the guest to pick the carrots out.  I did not voice this.  I was just baffled.  Well, I tried to do my best to produce the cuts she wanted, but again, I was just simply not gifted in this cubed cutting thing and eventually she came over and recut everything that both I and the other woman who was also trying her best but not meeting the manager's standards, had done.

         Okay.  That's fine.  Except I probably will not volunteer to cut vegetables again when she is in charge.  I don't need to waste my time if it's going to be redone anyway.  And I continue to think her extremism around this was actually not helping in the way she believed it would.

        Second scenario: also a place our church volunteers each month.  This time it was a ministry in which guests are offered multiple services.  They come to wash their clothes (which the serving churches pay for), they are served a hot meal, sometimes someone comes to offer hair cuts, and the guests can pick up all kinds of clothing and packaged foods to take home with them, whatever and wherever home may be.  My encounter here was with a different woman, but I've run into her each time we've gone to this location.  The first time I met her, we had a huge bin full of socks.  I know that socks are often one of the clothing items most needed by our homeless population, so I was happily putting the socks out on the table with the other clothing items for folk to pick up.  This woman came over to me, "Oh no!  We don't put the socks out.  We don't give them socks unless they ask for them.  And if they ask, give them only one pair each!"

         Again, ever inquisitive me, "Why?"

         "Well, because if we put out more, they would take them."

          Well, yes, isn't that the point?  I'm confused.  I thought we were trying to get rid of the donated items.  They aren't for us, we don't need them.  The point of this is to give away the things that are needed, isn't it?

          Then the last time I went, I was standing at the packaged foods table, putting out cans and pastas and other foods.  One man came over and asked if I had any Vienna Sausages.  As it turned out, there were a couple cans, so I found them and gave them to him.  At that point the same woman bustled over, "Don't give a person more than one can!"

          Undoubtedly, she has gotten used to my responses every time she gives me an order, but none the less, I persist, "Why?"

         "Well, it's greedy on their part!"  Again, I just found myself confused.  We hand out the food to folk over the course of a few hours.  But the number of people who approach the table asking for canned foods is not huge.  Probably one person every 5-10 minutes.  There were piles and piles of canned foods behind me waiting to be put out.  So why are we not willing to give a person two cans of something he specifically requested?  There obviously was more than enough, not a high demand.  And equally obviously, the food has been donated for the purpose of being given away.  I have no doubt the man who asked for the sausages will not waste them.  So why be stingy in this way?

           I know that I am part of the issue here.  First of all, I don't like being bossed around, micromanaged, snipped at, yelled at, when I am trying to do my best.  Secondly, I have my own opinions about how people should be served, and I believe we should work from a place of abundance rather than scarcity. That naturally will mean that I will lean towards giving more when others might be working from a more fearful, "we might not have enough" thinking.  Third, while hearing and acknowledging the woman at the second place, I also choose to ignore her mandates and continue to give from that place of abundance, so in this way, I cause her to "keep a wary eye on me."

          But I also see that this personality, the one who micromanages the volunteers, keeps showing up at so many of these places.  I've given you two examples.  But I have seen this same personality type at many of the places I've volunteered, often controlling, and even bullying, the volunteers. I've also heard my parishioners and friends talking about this personality at other volunteer places they have served, not just here but in every state where I've lived. So it also causes me to think.  Why does this personality keep showing up in these volunteer locations?  Why does the volunteer manager behave in this controlling, stingy, rigid, legalistic and overbearing way with consistency?  Why does she insist on asserting her authority in this bossy and unkind way?

          I think there are several things going on. One is a simple need for these people to claim power somewhere in their lives.  Perhaps these service locations are the only place where they have authority and so they take it, assert it, insist on making it known.  Maybe they are worried they will lose their position of power and authority if they don't assert it in an aggressive way.  Perhaps they went into the position for the very reason that they needed a place where they had some power or control.  Perhaps they are used to being shut down in other places and they are simply reflecting how other people have managed them in other situations.  

         Second, I think many people do work from a more legalistic and structured world view than I am used to, and they need those rules and that structure to be in place where they lead. There may not even be real reasons anymore for the rules that are in place, but maybe at one time there were.  And those rules have remained even when the reasons behind them no longer exist.  They give the person a sense of comfort, knowing the structure, knowing the boundaries.  This may especially be important when there are people who are not always behaving in socially acceptable ways.  Sometimes those we serve act unpredictably and so having rules may offer order in the midst of a bit of chaos.

        I'm sure there are other reasons as well.  

        I am grateful to the many people who continue to serve even when pushed around, because they believe deeply in the work they are doing.  I know my own parishioners, while they find the behavior of these managers irritating and occasionally annoying, will not be put off by it.  They believe in what they are doing, they have a strong sense of their own self-worth and will treat any belittling or controlling behavior as an issue of the person acting this way, rather than a slight to them.  I am grateful for that response.  I wish everyone had it.  

          I continue to worry that this managerial stance will turn some folk away from service who would otherwise have an opportunity to learn, to grow, to serve, and to be part of something bigger than themselves.  But I realize I don't have control over that.  So I will do my part to challenge rules that I feel are unjust, to offer a different perspective when I think the rule being enforced is failing to take into account the real situation.  I will also try to support those I see being bullied.  But mostly, I am using the experiences I've had volunteering to look at my own behavior when I am leading volunteers, and to strive to offer a different model for how to lead: not one of micromanaging and mistrusting my volunteers, but one of trust, openness, flexibility and giving a lot of latitude.  I believe in the gifts of my folk, their discernment and their ability to see and do ministry with grace and love.  I believe the Holy Spirit works through them, their vision, and their efforts even when they have a different world view and different way of doing things than my own.  Being the volunteer (rather than the manger) is a good reminder to me of what I choose not to present, not to model, not to be in my leadership positions. And for that I am deeply grateful.