Grace-Filled Rhythms for Life

 

Following the World Methodist Conference in Gothenburg, Sweden, Robin and I have been traveling around Scandinavia—a part of the world we have never been before. We have been taking trains and boats as we have traveled. One train trip—from north of the Arctic Circle to the city of Trondheim—was 10 hours long. The boat trip was 30 hours!

The gears in my busy life suddenly turned slowly. You can’t rush a train or speed up a boat! Instead, I felt myself—mind, body, and soul—learn new rhythms as I felt myself rocked by our conveyances

This is such a contrast to how many of us live. The lazy, hazy days of summer are giving way to Fall’s busy schedule. Many of our young people are back in school (which I consider so cruel—call me old school, but school shouldn’t start until after Labor Day). Pastors are looking at Advent themes already, The pause button has been all too brief as we rush back into calendars that are already booked solid.

I once read an insight by Angeles Arrien: nature’s rhythm is medium to slow. The seeds we planted months ago are just now being sown. It takes nine months for a fetus to come to term, and many years before that human is truly ready to be launched into the world. Few creatures, Arrien notes, move rapidly unless they are in danger.

We are a people who live hyper-speed lives.  We can’t help but press on the gas when the light turns yellow (or honk if someone takes too long to move forward when the light turns green). We get impatient when fast food is slow or our internet takes too long to download. Give us instant anything and don’t take more than a second than is necessary. We run from appointment to appointment, arriving out of breath because we scarcely take time to breathe.

Arriens’ words haunt me: Few creatures move rapidly unless they are in danger. What are you afraid of that keeps you so busy? What is it we are running from?

What would happen if we slowed down our pace: had fewer church meetings, didn’t sign our kids up for every activity, didn’t schedule every minute of our day. What might happen if we learned how to linger more and race around less? What differences might it make in the conversations we have with one another? How might our relationships deepen? How might our souls be fed in surprising ways?

Jesus says to us:  “Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matthew 11: 28-30) My prayer for you is that you stop running and be still with God and others. Let God’s grace wash over you. Good things take time. Give yourself the expanse of fertile space that gives birth to creativity and new ideas and ways of seeing the world. Live freely and lightly once again.

Stop keeping your body in flight mode and sink into an awareness that you are held by God who loves you, blesses you, and keeps you, whose face shines upon you, whose grace is offered to you, who will give you peace.

The Olympian In All of Us

 

It seems that everywhere you go, people have tuned into the Olympics (I love that there are members of the Mountain Sky witnessing the games in person!). There is something so inspiring watching people who have trained for years push themselves even further to be even better.

I recently learned about the worst performance in Olympic history. Eric Moussambani was a swimmer from Equatorial Guinea who had never even seen an Olympic-sized swimming pool until he got to the Sydney games! He learned to swim less than a year before the Olympics, training in a hotel swimming pool. Moussambani gained a place at the Olympics through a wild card entry system aimed at providing greater participation and access to the games.

As the 100 meter race began, the other two swimmers had false starts, so Moussambani was the lone

swimmer in that heat. The crowd was confused at first, watching a swimmer with such poor form race. But then they began to cheer him on. His race time was 1:52:72. The gold metalist that year finished in 48:30 seconds!

I’ve been thinking a lot about him these days. He was never going to be a great swimmer—there were so many obstacles preventing him from true greatness. But speed and winning the race isn’t the only path to greatness.

First, he didn’t give up. Even though he had an embarrassment-worthy performance, the fact is he did race, something not many can claim. Secondly, it wasn’t the end of his story. His Olympic time was his new personal best and set an Equatorial Guinean national record. And, later, he became the coach of his country’s national swimming squad, helping young people be even better swimmers than he was.

Each of us has been created to run our unique race. We might never receive a gold metal from the world, or an Oscar, or make a million dollars. There are times when we will misstep, fall, and even embarrass ourselves. But we are still called to run the race as best as we can and not give up. Because the story doesn’t end at the race’s finish line. Others will be impacted by our legacy. Our story will inform other stories. We will learn something that will be passed on to those in the future.

Because we don’t know how God will use our efforts. My favorite, go-to scripture when life gets rough and I feel as if I can’t go on is Romans 8: 28:

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love God, who have been called according to God’s purpose.”

God is working something good out in you. Your task—the task for each of us—is to do the best we can in every circumstance, and let God take care of the rest.

Happy New Appointment Year!

 Today is the first Sunday of the new appointment year. For those who are receiving new appointments, it is a day of anxiety: will this new relationship between pastor and parishioners be fruitful? Will it help us all grow in our discipleship? Will it foster ministries that extend beyond the walls of the church to those in the community who are most in need? Will it hone our prophetic voices and witness, as we seek a more just world for us all, in particular for the most vulnerable in our midst?

I am praying for you!

The appointment year is so uniquely United Methodist. While we plan for the long haul, we also know that at the end of June, we who are pastors may be passing the baton to someone who will be following us. For parishioners, it can be a time of grief as a beloved pastor moves on to another church in need of their gifts. If you are continuing with the same pastor/appointment, I pray that you will do some introspection: where have we been most faithful together? Where do we need to forgive each other? What do we need from each other to grow in faithfulness? Are we helping one another engage in ministries in the community that are life-giving and life-transforming? If not, why not?

I am praying for you as well!

When I came to the Mountain Sky Conference eight years ago, I was so struck by how missional our churches were: nearly every church had an outreach ministry that made an impact on the lives of others—whether in the community in which the church was, or even in other continents through mission trips and missional giving. I was and continue to be moved by this sign of vitality in our churches.

Your church is needed to be a beacon of hope as you share the love God has for all people. In these
highly divisive days, how you live together, honoring the differences that exist between your neighbors in the pews, can be a witness that diversity is a sign of a wildly creative God and adds contour to community.

I am praying for us all through these days of transition. May the Holy Spirit continue to draw us more deeply into God’s grace, and lead us all into Beloved Community.

What Are We Teaching the Children?

 What are we teaching the children?

Children have been on my mind a lot these past few days. How do we adults explain to our children the political climate in our country? How do we discuss the recent conviction of former President Donald Trump? What do we want them to know about integrity, honesty, and leadership?

The children are watching us. They are seeing how we engage in difficult conversations with each other. They are noting the language we use when talking about people we disagree with. They are studying how we treat others.

What are they learning from you?

This weekend, I am praying each sentence of the Epistle lesson for Sunday. I am letting each word reverberate in my soul:

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; Love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord.  Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly;” (Romans 12:9-16b)

I invite you to sit with these words in prayer. Let God come to you as you pray. What does God want to teach you through this text? How will that inform how you live?

What will the children watching learn from you?

Yes, Jesus Loves Me

 “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so…”

This is the very first song nearly every child learns in a Christian Sunday School. Sunday School teachers and members of the church are vessels of this love through their care and instruction. In this supportive environment, children grow in faith as they grow into their God-created selves.

But in too many churches, once young people begin to question their sexual orientation or gender identity, the message they receive is that God’s love is now conditional. This causes deep spiritual harm. Someone who doesn’t have a nurturing environment to grow into the person God created them to be lives a stunted life, never living into their full potential.

Church ought to be the place where every child of God will find a loving and accepting home to be who they are.

The United Methodist Church made huge changes to be that loving place through General Conference actions.

There are some United Methodists who are going to think we went too far by removing the language that declared homosexuality as “incompatible with Christian teaching”, allowing clergy to preside over same-gender weddings (if they choose to do so) and allowing LGBTQ clergy. I hope you will enter into a time of wondering: why would these pass overwhelmingly by delegates from around the world (the ban against LGBTQ clergy only had 51 no votes out the entire body)? What scriptures would prompt people to adopt these positions? How do these statements help us “do no harm; do good; and stay in love with God?”

We humans see the image of God as through a mirror dimly (I Corinthians 13: 12). God is so much bigger than our limited comprehension. The God who created the world in all its diverse flourishings has imprinted on each human God’s own image. The more we encounter and enter into relationship with each other, the deeper we look into each other’s eyes, the clearer God’s image emerges. We gain a bigger picture of who God is, particularly when we include those who don’t look like us, think like us, or love like us.

There are people of all ages in your community who are looking for a grace-filled community that allows them to ask questions, to be able to take tentative and shaky steps to explore who God made them to be, to find themselves in a community who will cheer them on when they do so.

Will you and your church be that community?

Let me tell you: there is amazing joy waiting for you if you are willing to do so. For wherever there is new life, whenever someone says yes to being their full God-created self, when someone is finally able to proclaim out loud to God “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made” the angels sing and the saints dance.

I pray that our United Methodist Churches will be such loving places. May no child of God ever think they are beyond God’s love. May they be able to sing throughout their life:

“Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so”

 

Where Love and Joy Dance

 How apt that this past week’s lectionary was from I John 4, a beautiful passage on love—the love God has for us and the love we ought to have for one another.

Love is the bedrock of the Christian life.

And love is what I am experiencing in Charlotte at General Conference.

For years, General Conference has felt more like a battleground than an experience of Christian conferencing. Voices were silenced. Lives were demeaned. Hope was dashed, over and over again.  

But something is happening in Charlotte. At first there was a timidity of spirit, but then an open-heartedness to one another grew and even in the midst of differences, joy has bubbled up in contagious ways. Truly, the Holy Spirit is in this place.

What’s changed?

One of the best lines I ever heard in a church meeting was when a group was moving through a difficult topic but slowly aligning in consensus. Someone disagreed with the direction and said, “I just need to be a devil’s advocate and say…” Someone else said, “The church is the last place that needs an advocate of the devil.”

Differences of opinion and diverse voices are so vital for healthy conferencing. But those who just seek to disrupt, divide, and disorder do little to build up the Body of Christ.

Continue to pray for the delegates, who are working hard to respond to the Spirit’s leading, who are listening intently to one another,  and who are helping us realize the future of our beloved denomination.

And may this gracious spirit pervade our local churches, so that all who walk through our doors will find a place of welcome, where love and joy dance together down the aisles.

Prior to the Start of General Conference

I write from Charlotte, North Carolina, where the Council of Bishops has been meeting prior to the start of General Conference. Over the next few days, delegates, volunteers, and observers from around the world will arrive as the long-awaited General Conference begins. 

There is a pensive hope that pervades our meeting, hope that we are nearing the other side of the chaos and contention we all experienced during a difficult season of disaffiliation. 

How many of us have brought tender hope to the start of each General Conference, only to have that hope crushed in painful ways as the delegates reaffirmed or tightened restrictions about the role of LGBTQ+ people in the life and ministry of the church? 

Martin Luther King, Jr. once said: “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” 

Today, on the eve of the start of General Conference, I am drinking from the well of infinite hope. 

I am hopeful that this General Conference will be an experience of God’s grace beyond what we have ever experienced. 

I am hopeful that this General Conference will provide a witness to the world that there can be unity in the midst of diversity. 

I am hopeful that this General Conference will be spiritually enriching for the delegates and all who are assisting and watching. 

I am hopeful that this General Conference will remove the harmful language about LGBTQ+ people, so no one will question whether they are welcomed in the household of faith. 

I am hopeful that at the conclusion of this General Conference, we will be a new church, with a renewed sense of identity and purpose. It has been a long pregnancy. The labor has been particularly painful. But there is a birthing in our midst and we are the midwives. May we be attentive as we listen for sighs too deep for words, for the stirrings of the Spirit, for the movements of new life seeking to see the light of day. 

And then, when the last person leaves the convention center and returns home, may we all participate in raising this new church to be a strong presence in every community around the globe. The world is in need of the generous grace and deep love found in Jesus Christ that is the
bedrock of United Methodism. 

Please cover the delegates in prayer as they begin their work. May the Holy Spirit sustain and guide them in the days to come.

The Ones Who Aren't Here

 I and so many others are frantically preparing for General Conference, that once-every-four-years United Methodist meeting that we had to postpone due to COVID. At this meeting, delegates determine church policy for the next four years which will order our shared life and ministry.

I love my friendships across The United Methodist Church. There is an orientation to life and faith that we share as United Methodists that has fostered deep and lasting friendships for me. But oddly, as I sit in prayer for the upcoming meetings, it is not the faces of my friends that rise up within me nor the issues the delegates will tackle. Instead, the names and faces of those who have left the denomination are the ones that swirl with the Spirit in the space of my prayers.

Even though we held deep differences—in particular about the role of lgbtq+ people in the life and ministry of the church (and even though their beliefs have been soul wounding to so many of us) I can’t help feeling the void their departure has left.

This is in part because I do believe in the power of our sacraments. It is through baptism and communion that we come to experience God’s generous grace. The bread is broken, but we are together made whole. The water we place on our forehead to remember our baptism reminds us that God loves us and claims us, but not we alone! Through these experiences, we are united with others, whether we like it or not. They are our kin in Christ and we are theirs.

Because of this experience, I can’t “other” another. I can’t dismiss them. I can’t pretend they don’t exist. I can’t wish for a church without them in it.

The Church’s witness is lessened when we are unable to live gracefully among ourselves. Our diversity ought to be revered as a blessing that opens us more fully to the image of God that is imprinted on humanity. It isn’t easy work. It is hard. Really hard. We have to be willing to be changed by our encounter with another. But this is what leads us all to a holier and more whole place.

I look forward to the ways the Holy Spirit will show up at General Conference, and the people we will be at the end of our time together. But today, I am sitting and reflecting on the ones who won’t be there.

What Are We Teaching the Children?

 I grew up on a dead end street on the South Shore of Long Island, perfect for playing ball in the summer and sledding in the winter. It seemed to be an inevitable badge of childhood that all of us would eventually sport a scar on one or both knees from tripping on the curbs that were marked as 1^st and 3^rd bases. The block had many young families, so I grew up with enough friends to make two teams of whatever we chose to play. We were fiercely competitive, but the make-up of the teams were never the same, as players were interchangeable, one team to the other.

We certainly had our fights, but they never lasted long if we wanted to continue to play our games. We needed one another, so whatever grievances we held against each other were quickly forgotten so we could resume our play.

Why, as we grow older, do we lose this capacity to forgive and forget? Why do we harbor resentments for so long? When did we stop seeing that we are all, ultimately, on the same team?

This hit home for me as I watched the State of the Union address. When did we devolve from having civility in the chambers to cat-calls and taunting? When did Thanksgiving dinners begin to need referees or rules about what we can and can’t talk about? When did we grow so polarized that we have forgotten we are on the same team?

I can’t help but wonder about what we are modeling to our children. Do our actions model respect when we interrupt a speaker? Are we teaching tolerance of difference when we dismiss and dehumanize those we disagree with? Are we helping our children grow into adults that will lean into hard conversations with humility and curiosity?

Jesus reserved some of his harshest words to for those who mistreat children:

 “I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom. What’s more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it’s the same as receiving me.

“But if you give them a hard time, bullying or taking advantage of their simple trust, you’ll soon wish you hadn’t. You’d be better off dropped in the middle of the lake with a millstone around your neck. Doom to the world for giving these God-believing children a hard time! Hard times are inevitable, but you don’t have to make it worse—and it’s doomsday to you if you do.” (Matthew 18: 3-7, The Message)

This week, consider what your words and actions are teaching the children around you. And then, take time to consider what the children in your life might be trying to teach you about God and a life of faith.

Ring Out!

 This weekend I am in Orlando at Exploration 2024, a gathering for young adults to explore how God may be calling them into a vocation in the church. I love helping people explore their call—I believe each one of us was created to contribute something unique to the whole of our life together. Our task (and it can take our entire lives) is to figure out what it is and live it.

It’s kind of like playing in a bell choir.

Unlike a vocal choir, where often all the vocal sections (bass, tenor, alto, soprano) sing the same phrase with counterpoint notes, a bell choir member has but 2-4 notes (well, we altos also often have only 2-4 notes, but at least we sing them throughout the song!). Which means that as the song with bells is performed, a bell ringer must be prepared to come in at the right time with the right bell. I have seen some bell ringers ring just one bell through an entire piece, but the song would not be complete if they did not play their part at the right time. If they played the wrong bell, or came in early or late, or even refrained from playing, the musical piece would be changed.

While in other musical groups, people play individual instruments, all the bells together make the musical instrument. We all are the instrument together.  If someone misses their cue, or misses a performance, the instrument will not be able to perform due to missing notes.

Each of us carries a note we must play if the Song of Life is to be complete. To not be aware we are carrying the note, to not play the note at all, or to play it wrong results in the Song of Life devolving from being a Divine Love Song to a cacophony of dissonant and disconnected notes.

Scripture put it this way:

“Now there are varieties of gifts but the same Spirit, and there are varieties of services but the same Lord, and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” (I Corinthians 12: 4-7)

You are needed in this world. If you don’t bring your whole self, with your unique gift, to our life together, the vibrations that reverberate in our souls is diminished. The beauty of life fades. The sweet goodness of life is lessened.

Live so aware of yourself and others that you will know the right cue—of when and how to let your life ring out in joy and delight.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tHgpuWPg1OE

I Will Go, Lord, Where you Lead Me

 This is an anxious season for pastors. I confess from February to the beginning of June, whenever my phone rang I would break out in a cold sweat, and if I noticed it was my DS, I definitely sent it to voicemail. “Why?” you might ask. Because it is appointment season!

We who have said yes to answering a call to ordained ministry in The United Methodist Church agreed to become itinerant preachers, going where God and the Bishop feel our gifts best match the needs of the church. We are not solo practitioners but are a part of a connection of both clergy and churches. This web of connection seeks to multiply effective ministry by deploying clergy across the conference so we can, together, provide a strong and vital witness of God’s love.

This is the season where I, along with the district superintendents, pastors, and Staff Parish Relations Committees, do discerning work. Each pastor has to ask themselves: Am I being fruitful and faithful in my current ministry? Am I growing spiritually? Am I deepening my leadership skills? Do I have the skills this church needs? If I don’t, am I willing/able to learn them?

As bishop and cabinet, we look at every church and every pastor. We look not only at individual churches but clusters of churches as well so that entire regions can have the kinds of pastors needed for support. Data is reviewed, church statements read, and prayers are lifted. Spouse’s and children’s needs are considered, as is community support if a pastor is single.

Itineracy is a proud part of our history, one of the reasons why Methodism spread across this country so effectively. Unmarried circuit riders traveled a circuit of several churches over the course of 5-6 weeks, preaching and teaching and equipping laity for the work of ministry. It wasn’t an easy life back then…prior to 1847, more than half of circuit riders died before they were 30! And it isn’t an easy one now.

 Every time your pastor sings “I will go, Lord, where you lead me,” they are reaffirming their commitment to the itineracy. They are saying they are giving their full selves to serve not in the place they want for themselves, but in the place communal discernment believes is best for the whole as each pastor’s appointment impacts every other pastor’s appointment.

I invite you to be in prayer for the pastors in your life, for the churches throughout our conference, for the district superintendents, and for me as we all, together, seek to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit, which always leads us to places we hadn’t expected to go, to be in relationship with people who are new to us, to do things we never thought we would.

Called to a Life of Love

I love the story of Jesus' first calls to the disciples. His cousin John the Baptist has been imprisoned for critiquing Herod’s behavior. In this charged political climate, Jesus begins his ministry, recruiting those who are willing to let go of all they are doing to follow him. Nets were dropped, tools put down, schedules abandoned as Jesus’ call took hold of the disciples’ lives, and they could do no other but follow him.

In hindsight, the easy part was the initial call—“Come, follow me.” The disciples left the familiar and ran to Jesus, hungry for direction and meaning. But we get to see the whole story: when the demands of faith seemed too great, the risks of faith too frightening, the disciples shrank in fear.

In fact, being a disciple of Jesus was (and is!) a pretty high-risk venture. It meant leaving oneself open to a great deal of loss: the loss of friends and family, the loss of home and possessions, the loss of job and status. And by the world’s standards, the gains weren’t very pretty. Since Jesus, from his very birth, was considered a political subversive, the disciples risked a great deal to follow him. And when Jesus was arrested and crucified and the going got real tough, the disciples scattered in fear.

God wouldn’t leave them alone but kept beckoning to them. They discovered that their commitment was greater than their fear, so that they were able to live out their call of preaching, teaching, and healing in Jesus’ name.

Living out God’s claim on our life is a scary venture. It calls us into a future that is unknown. It puts us in relationships with people we might not otherwise choose to be in relationship with. It opens us to experiences that we would rather avoid.

Too often we try to put guard rails on faith. We try to stifle where the Spirit calls us. We pull ourselves back from the very places God would have us go. This is not only to our own detriment but also to the world, which God has called us to engage with hearts on fire for compassion, for healing, for justice.

During our Civil Rights Pilgrimage in Montgomery, I read one person’s words that challenged me: “We committed ourselves so completely to the vision of civil rights that the risk of dying was secondary.” I confess reading that while standing in the epicenter of the civil rights movement, learning about how costly the civil rights movement was to those who participated in it, felt like a punch to the gut. How committed am I to my faith, to this life of Love that Jesus calls me to? Am I willing to live it so completely that the risk of death is a secondary thought?

The Love Jesus calls us to live is a demanding Love. This Love isn’t content with the status quo. It demands that structures and systems get shaken up so that people can not merely survive but thrive. It insists on recognizing all persons as possessing the image of God. It always moves us to the margins of any group, any community, to build the center of community (and ministry!) there.

“And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.” Many of us belted this song out with gusto when we were young. Is the fire of that faith still burning? Where is Love leading you and your church today as you follow Jesus?

Warming Places

 Across our nation, a bomb cyclone of cold weather has descended, dropping temps into dangerous levels. I am especially mindful of those who are unhoused in these dangerous weather days. I am grateful for our churches who have opened their doors to those without shelter or heat!

The cabinet and I have been in Cody, Wyoming this week, preparing ourselves for the appointment season. Yesterday, as the temperature never rose above – 20F and had a wind chill factor of -50F, I noticed something as we broke for the day. The caretaker of the retreat center came to our meeting space and turned on the gas fireplace. I watched as the cabinet members all began to gravitate to the fireplace. Hands reached out towards the warmth. Conversation was both playful and meaningful as we stood around the fireplace.

In the midst of cold weather, we are a species drawn to warmth.

I have been thinking about this as a metaphor for our churches. This world can be so very cold—community is hard to come by; judgment and intolerance is often encountered; we feel isolated and alienated. Our spirits become brittle and break in the face of a chilly and unwelcoming world.

How is your church an oasis of warmth in the midst of a frigid world? Are people drawn to the warmth your congregation exudes? Will they find a place where they can allow their souls to defrost and be reformed in Love?

I am praying your church can offer a generous hospitality, so those whom the world has frozen out can be embraced with open arms that comfort and thaw even the most frozen hearts.

We Shall Overcome

 This past weekend, I am in Montgomery with members of our conference, participating in a Civil Rights Pilgrimage. It has been a sobering trip as we learn more deeply of the systemic terrorism and torture of African Americans, so deeply embedded in our nation’s psyche.  We were frequently brought to tears as we moved through museums and monuments that showed not only the violence of racism in the past but the way it continues in our present.

Lest we think that the legacy of racism is only a “southern thing”, we learned that lynchings occurred in each of the four states of our conference. Plus, monuments to the confederacy are found in three of our states, the most recent one erected in Denver in 2003 (https://www.waymarking.com/waymarks/wm5QAN_Colorado_Confederate_Veterans_Memorial_Riverside_Cemetery_Denver_CO) (additionally, we have a legacy of violence against Native Americans and immigrants and in addition Japanese Internment camps that were found across our conference).

One of the exhibits at Legacy Museum had slave pens which you could peer into. As you looked in, a holographic figure of an enslaved person appeared and spoke. It was very fleeting, and I found myself rooted to the spot, hoping to have them reappear so I could learn more of their story.

Are we willing to listen with open hearts to the stories of those whose lives have been impacted by racism, not only in the past but in our communities today?

I am struck at how Christianity was twisted to support slavery. What a defilement of a faith grounded in God’s love for all humankind, whose image shines from the face of every person.

Yet, Christianity also undergirded the civil rights movement. Clergy and laity together linked arms with others and put their very bodies on the line to push back on the forces of evil and oppression. The course of a nation was changed because followers of Jesus refused to allow injustice to have the upper hand.

The struggle continues today. Are you willing to listen and learn of life experiences that aren’t like your own, that are difficult, even painful to hear? Can you do so and not interrupt, not try to make excuses or try to discount the reality and truth of another’s reality?

We each are connected to one another as the Body of Christ. When one suffers, we all suffer. It is only when we listen and learn that we can work to ensure the dignity and humanity of all of God’s children. In this way, we build up Beloved Community and leave a better world for those who will come after us.

The Work of Christmas...

 

We are smack dab in the middle of the 12 days of Christmas, yet for many, Christmas is already over: the tree is shedding and the decorations are begging to be placed back in their boxes for another year. Christmas 2023 is quickly becoming one more holiday memory.

It is at this time I like to sit with the words of Christian mystic Howard Thurman:

“When the song of the angels is stilled, When the star in the sky is gone, When the kings and princes are home, When the shepherds are back with their flock, The work of Christmas begins: To find the lost, To heal the broken, To feed the hungry, To release the prisoner, To rebuild the nations, To bring peace among others, To make music in the heart.”

“The work of Christmas begins…”

I have been meditating on that statement all week. What is the “work of Christmas”? Are we willing to do it?

From Mary’s response to the angel Gabriel to Herod’s decree to murder all boys under the age of two because he found his power threatened by the baby Jesus, the birth of Jesus challenges those in power and upsets the status quo through God’s revolution of Love. The God who made us becomes one of us, to show us a better way to live, to challenge systems that keep us from living out our full God-given humanity, to ensure that oppression ends and justice reigns.

The work of Christmas begins…

As you begin to pack away Christmas decorations, how will Christmas remain in your heart? How will God’s love for humanity be visible in your actions? How will you live out your baptismal vow and “accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves”?

Our faith does not allow us to hold a naïve view of the world. As we consider the possibilities of the New Year, we know that we will continue to be faced with violence, political division, a world on fire, inequalities, and hatred. How does Jesus’ birth provide us with hope, instill in us holy boldness, and compel us to take on the task of ushering in God’s Beloved Community?

The work of Christmas begins…let’s do this!