Jokes and sermon for Humor Sunday

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

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

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

        What's the opposite of Irony?   Wrinkly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

       A: In the present!

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



                                                            The Gifts of Laughter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Times are different

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

A Different Kind of Easter

Mark 16:1-8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hang in there everyone, we will get there!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

As the crisis continues...

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

Preparing for what is to come

Mark 11:1-11,

Mark 14:3-9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Anxiety of a "New Normal".

           I'm not sleeping well.  I'm tense, irritable and moody.  I forget things a lot, normal things, regular things.  For example, I went to start writing today and then couldn't remember why I'd opened my computer in the first place.  I walk around with a general feeling of unease or "dis-ease".  I want to get things done but find that it sometimes takes me three times as long to do half as good a job on things that I used to do with efficiency and confidence.  I find myself feeling a bit lost, wandering around wondering what I'm doing, why, and for how long.
         Does this feel familiar?
         We are all in a state of crisis.  I realize that for some it is a much bigger crisis than for others.  Far too many are looking at financial strain at the least, and for some it is truly financial catastrophe.  Some are extremely ill or worrying about friends or family who are ill.  Some are isolated and alone while others are packed into situations with too many people in a small space.  The situations we face are different, the things that worry us are varied.  But all of us are in a state of crisis.  Things are not the same, for all of us.  And I think it's important for us to name that, because of this, all of us are dealing with many feelings, many fears, and anxiety is a part of that for all of us.  So I just want to name some of that reality that we have in common, that we are all facing during this time.
         1.  We are all grieving.  Life is very different now.  We don't know for how long, but my guess is that some things are changed in a permanent way.  Since we don't know what things are temporary and what things are permanent, we are grieving what was without any real sense of what is coming to replace it.  That grief itself involves many feelings that are uncomfortable: anger, sadness, some denial, depression are just a few of those feelings.
        2.  We are all anxious about what the future looks like.  We rely on certain things being the same.  People tend to have daily rituals, daily behaviors and activities and many of these have changed.  We now have different times to sleep, different times to get up, different ways of meeting with one another (on-line), different ways of getting our work done or looking for new work or preparing for changes in our work lives.  For many of us, the new routines are not yet set.  Our bodies as well as our minds and hearts are needing to adjust to these changes, and that takes time and intentionality.
         3.  We all have some fear.  What we fear may be different, but there is fear for us all.  Will we get sick?  Will our loved ones get sick?  Will some of those we care about die?  Who will care for our children if something happens to us?  Who will care for us?  Will we have work?  Will our communities look the same when we have a chance to come together again?  What will happen to our relationships?  To our jobs?  To our communities?  How will we get food in a safe way?  How will we get enough for our kids to eat?
          There is more, but as I said when I started this post, my mind isn't what it usually is, so I think I'll stop the list of experiences there and move on to what I really wanted to say.  In the midst of all of this, I want to encourage you to seek to stay emotionally and spiritually healthy as well as physical healthy.  Towards that end I want to encourage all of us to try to do at least some of the following each day:
         1.  Breathe.  I know, you may tell me that of course you are breathing.  But I think we need to be more intentional about taking deep breaths.  Breathing helps us to stay healthy physically, but it also calms down our anxiety.  It causes us to pause in our other thinking and to simply BE.  It pulls us out of our fears and anxieties and refocuses our attention on just existing. Intentional breathing reminds us that we are alive, and that each breath is a gift, an expression of grace, not something we should assume is ours.  Notice your breathing, pay attention to your breathing, be grateful for your breaths.  Notice your loved ones' and pets' breathing and be grateful for each breath they are taking.
       2.  Take time to meditate and pray.  For me, prayer is talking to God (or the Divine or the Universe, or "that which is greater than oneself"), to articulate what I am feeling, what I am thinking is a gift.  It not only helps me to release those feelings and thoughts, but sometimes saying them in a prayer allows me greater insight into what those feelings and thoughts actually are.  Meditation is the opposite of prayer for me.  It is listening, rather than talking.  And in that space of listening I often hear the wisdom, the comfort and the care that I am most needing in the moment.  I invite you to find a way to be intentional both about speaking your experience and listening to the wisdom that is out there for us. God is there to hear and to talk, to listen and to love you into each moment.
      3.  Exercise.  Move your body.  Get your heart rate up.  Dance, walk, do yoga... whatever it is that you can do in whatever space you must stay in, to connect with the gift of your body, to step out of your mind for a few minutes and focus on just being physically alive in this world.
      4.  Connect.  We can't touch each other.  We can't visit with each other.  We can't go out to eat or go for a walk.  But we can still connect.  Be intentional about connecting with others.  Call, email, write letters, skype, zoom, or do whatever you can to work hard to stay connected with one another.  Take the opportunity of this time to reach out to someone you haven't connected with in a long time, take this time to work on relationships that might otherwise not have your attention.  Other people can help us to be more realistic in our anxieties, they can balance out our extreme thinking with their own vision and understanding, and they can remind us what is really important to us in this life time.  Other people are there to support us when we are struggling and to give us the opportunity to offer support when they are struggling.  We need each other now more than ever.  Allow yourself to ask for help and to offer help to one another during this difficult time.
       5.  Engage art in some way.  Draw a picture, sing a song, dance in your living room, look at pictures of beautiful art on the internet, read a good book, watch a good movie, write a poem or story, write a song, work on a quilt, engage in creating something outside of and beyond yourself.  Art is healing to our souls, singing opens our spirits, creating brings back purpose and meaning to our lives.
      6.  Take time for gratitude.  Keep a gratitude journal of what has been good each day during this time.  Remember where life has given you gifts.  Look for God and appreciate where God has touched and blessed your life in this moment.
      7.  Rest.  Take naps.  Be intentional about down time even if you are having trouble sleeping.  Let this time allow for some body and mind healing from the frantic-ness of normal life.  Move slowly and let that be okay.
      8.  Be gentle with yourself and with one another.  In all of this, try to remember that this really is a crisis time.  It is taking more energy than normal to function and it is taxing all of us in ways we don't usually experience.  Allow room for errors, allow time for new routines and new ways of doing things to be learned, explored, and tried.  Give yourself a break when you feel overwhelmed and lost.
      9.  Remember, beyond all else, that you are valuable, that you are loved, that you are precious.  Each breath you take is a reminder that you have been loved into being and that you will be loved through and beyond each breath you take.  Take time to remember that even when you are lost, God is there to find you again, and to help you find peace and wholeness.

          As we walk this difficult time together, I want you to know that I am here for you.  I am grateful for YOU.  And we will get through all of this together.  All things pass, and while there is grief that what has come before is different than what now is, we can be reassured that this crisis time, too, will pass.  Breathe through today, look for the good in today, but also look towards tomorrow.  It is just around the corner.

Psalms of Wisdom

                                             Psalms 1, 15

                Today is the last week of our Psalms sermon series.  I hope that it has been informative and of interest to you.  But more, I hope that you have been able to connect to the book of Psalms in a new way, seeing them a little differently, and hearing the invitation within the psalms to express yourself creatively to God: to say it like you feel it with your words and with other forms of art: music, poetry, dance perhaps, stories, drawings, sculpture, knitting, quilting – in whatever way you express your art and your feelings.  The Book of Psalms is an ARTISTIC book of the bible rather than a narrative, rather than history, rather than story.  The psalms are liturgy, they are song, and they are creative expressions of one’s experiences and feelings much more than one’s thoughts.

               Psalms of wisdom, however, I think contain one’s beliefs or thoughts more than the other type of psalms we’ve discussed.  Psalms of trust, praise, lament, and even history – these psalms invite us into the feelings of the experiences of the writers, as well as into our own experiences and feelings towards God, life, others and ourselves.  They express in total raw, open honesty prayers to God, and reflections on one’s situation at the moment.  But psalms of wisdom reflect more on the writer’s beliefs and reflections rather than feelings: they express a mandate for what it is to live a good life.  They are instructive for what it means to be people of God, and they talk to us rather than being prayers, pleas or supplications to God on our behalf.  And they tell us what is good in our behaviors, what is right, what is wise for us to do and be.  We see in their words wisdom expressed once again in beautiful poetry, we hear encouragement to choose well, to act well, to live well. 

We also know that words such as have been found in both of the psalms read today have been used by some people to attack, judge or correct other people.  We have seen on the news that no matter what you believe, you can probably find a way to justify it, Biblically, and these psalms are no exception: they, too, allow people with very different beliefs to use them in ways that can either help or harm.  For example, Psalm 1 says that the way of the wicked is destroyed.  And I have heard people use this with the prosperity gospel mentality, saying that if a person is not doing well, it shows that their behavior is suspect.  If a person is poor, or struggling, or ill – that this somehow indicates that their behavior is wrong. 

               We know this is false, and we know there are many other scriptures that confront this thinking.  The book of Job focuses on the idea that people’s suffering is not a reflection of their goodness or lack of goodness.  As Jesus himself says, “God causes the rain to fall on the just and unjust alike.” 

               So, too, with Psalm 15, these wise words have sometimes also been used to inflict damage.  The words are wonderful, beautiful and true: who is it who dwells with God? The one who speaks truth, who does no damage with their talk, does not harm a friend, someone who keeps their promises.   All of this is good and true.  But as we know, context here is very important.  For example, the “keeping the promises” part is tricky.  We know that Herod felt it was so important to keep his promise to Herodias that he killed John the Baptist.  And we know that because valuing promises over people is so dangerous, Jesus himself encouraged us to never make promises at all.  As he said: (Matthew 5:33-37) “Again you have heard that it was said to those who lived long ago: Don’t make a false solemn pledge, but you should follow through on what you have pledged to the Lord.  But I say to you that you must not pledge at all…Let your yes mean yes, and your no mean no. Anything more than this comes from the evil one.”  He said this because when people put their promises above the needs and realities of relationships and changing contexts, people get hurt, and damaged sometimes in very serious ways.

               The point I’m making is that wisdom is contextual.  And when we become too legalistic or rigid about anything, we lose wisdom all together.

               Let me give you some more modern examples. 

I look around at the sanctuary today and I have the (not very great) insight or wisdom to notice that something is “wrong.”  That things are not right here.  What is wrong?  Well, what’s wrong is that there are only a very few people here in the building.  The Church is not the building, it is the people.  So normally we would look at this empty church and say, “this is a sign that we are not doing well, that we are struggling.”  But today, during this season, during this crisis time in our community, we know that an empty sanctuary is not a sign that our congregation is struggling.  It is, instead, on this day, a sign of our deep connectedness, our commitment to caring for the larger community by practicing social isolation until the virus scare is past.  We know that it is a reflection of an effort to keep ourselves and everyone safe, healthy, well.

Another example: we know that eating is important.  But we usually save eating for specific times and places: we don’t eat in church, except for communion.  We usually don’t eat at work or in school.  And if we have allergies or other health problems such as diabetes, there are foods we cannot eat, or foods we should not eat.  The context of our own health and well being, and sometimes of social practices – these dictate whether or not it is wise to eat something and when it is wise to eat. 

Bathing is important, hygiene is important.  But we aren’t going to brush our teeth in the swimming pool or at the water fountain in the park. 

Being in community is very important.  But also taking time to retreat and pray is also important.  And during times such as this, we know being apart is not only important but necessary.

The reality is that very few things are good all the time.  Very few things are right in every situation or in every context. 

I think about Jesus’ words about anger and the danger of anger.  He said (Matthew 5:21-22): “You have heard that it was said to those who lived long ago, Don’t commit murder, and all who commit murder will be in danger of judgment.  But I say to you that everyone who is angry with their brother or sister will be in danger of judgment.”

He said this, and yet, later in the same gospel we hear of Jesus’ anger.  Matthew 21:12-13  “Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’; but you are making it a den of robbers.”

We also know that Jesus probably did not have a problem with buying and selling: he just had a problem with the context of doing so within the temple.

Jesus healed on the Sabbath.  He picked grain on the Sabbath, too.  Did Jesus have a problem with the 4th commandment which is to keep the Sabbath holy?  And to do no work at all on the Sabbath?  No, he just had a problem with people using the law as an excuse and a justification for hurting other people, avoiding healing, and forbidding eating. 

               In the book of Proverbs, 26: 7-12, we are told,

As legs dangle from a disabled person,

    so does a proverb in the mouth of fools.

Like tying a stone in a sling,

    so is giving respect to a fool.

 Like a thorny bush in the hand of a drunk,

    so is a proverb in the mouth of fools.

 Like an archer who wounds someone randomly,

    so is one who hires a fool or a passerby.

Like a dog that returns to its vomit,

    so a fool repeats foolish mistakes.

Do you see people who consider themselves wise?

    There is more hope for a fool than for them.

In other words, we need to be wise even in our wisdom.  Wisdom means acting appropriately based on one’s context.  The wise have an understanding of context, a vision into when something is right and when it is not.

The truth is that we just don’t know it all.  We just don’t.  Not one of us is all knowing, not one of us is wise beyond it all.  I wish it were otherwise, but we become stuck or confused because we know there is not one single person alive today who is all-wise. We all need help knowing how to do good, how to be good, how to understand these words of Wisdom written in our scriptures.  Where is that help for us?

First and foremost, weigh everything you do against the 2 commandments that Jesus summed up for us – loving God, and loving your neighbor as self. These are more important than any one law.  These are more important than all laws put together.  We are called to love, and wisdom requires that we value and weigh everything based on whether it does good or does harm to those we are called ot love: to everyone.  But even then sometimes it’s hard to know what’s right.  We have scriptures, we have the writings of wise people, we have our friends, our families, our communities, we have prayer, we have history.  Lots of resources to teach us.

I want to share with you a story.

There once was a boy who saw one of his old teachers after years at a wedding.  The boy walked up to the teacher and asked the woman if she remembered him.

The teacher did not recognize the boy who was now a man, but after George introduced himself, she said, “Oh yes!  I remember you now, George!  I have thought of you often over the years.  What are you doing now with your life?”

George told her that, like her, he had become a teacher. He then went on to tell the woman that he was a teacher because of her teaching him.  He said that he had followed in her footsteps because of the huge impact she had had on his life. 

She asked him what kind of impact she had made on his life and George told her this story:

“One day when I was a boy, I stole a beautiful, but very costly pocket watch from one of the other children in the class.  It was a birthday present to him and he loved it.  But it was beautiful and valuable and I had taken it.  Danny found you and told you and the whole class that someone had stolen his precious present, the watch.  I remember how you pled with the class and begged the class to return the watch, but I was too embarrassed to admit I had done it or to return it.  Then you locked the classroom door and asked the class to line up and close our eyes. You went from pocket to pocket searching for the watch. You came to my pocket and you found the watch and you gently pulled it out.  But you did not stop there. You continued, moving from pocket to pocket all the way to the end of the line. After you had the watch, you told us to open our eyes and return to our seats and you returned the watch to Danny. 

You never said a word to anyone about the fact that it was me who took the watch.  You didn’t even confront me about it.  You saved my dignity, and your kindness changed my life forever.  That is the power of being a good teacher, and because of your actions, I chose to be a teacher as well.”

The teacher responded to George saying that this was an amazing story, but that she didn’t remember much about it and certainly didn’t remember that George had stolen the watch.

George was stunned.  “How can you not remember that I stole it?  How could you not think of that story every time you thought of me?” 

The teacher responded, “I really don’t remember that it was you who stole the watch.  And here is the reason why: As I moved from pocket to pocket I kept my eyes closed, too.”

The power of kindness, the power of love – when we look through our wisdom psalms, ultimately, good behavior comes back to Godly behavior: behavior that is kind, behavior that is grace-filled, behavior that reflects the love of the God who loves us beyond our imagining.  Our wisdom Psalms help us to know how to love, they help us to follow God more closely.  They help us to be wise. 

What are the ways in which you are being called to use your wisdom, your kindness, today?  It may feel harder with our isolation, but there are ways.  Our food pantries are suffering right now, our people on the edge are losing housing and needing care.  You can support organizations with your money and resources even if you can’t visit people.  You can think about who in your community is most isolated and lonely and reach out with a phone call or an email.  You can follow the wisdom of today’s Psalm 15: speak truth, do not do damage with your talk, do not harm one another, do not insult one another, share your resources, without expecting a return; do not bribe, threaten or manipulate. 

I am grateful for each of you, as far away as you may be at this moment.  I am praying for you, wishing you well, sending you love.  Reach out if you need help.

My prayer for all of us today is that we use the psalms more fully as our own prayers, as our own commitment to seeing, hearing, understanding and loving God with ever more fullness.  Amen.