|
Weather |
 |
Portland
45°F |
|
|
|
|
|
Blog - Content Section Layout
|
Written by scott
|
|
Monday, 11 June 2007 |
CONNECTIONS
UPUMC
• Unbinding the Gospel, Adult Sunday School meets Summer Sundays, 11:30pm, Errol Stephenson Hall, beginning today.
• Staff-Parish Relations Committee meets Monday, June 18, 6:30pm, Errol Stephenson Hall.
• Administrative Council meets Monday, June 18, 7:30pm, Errol Stephenson Hall.
• Lunch Bunch, Cup and Saucer, Tuesday, June 19, 12:30pm. Bev Read makes reservations.
• Family Karaoke Night, 6:30-9pm, Saturday, June 23, Errol Stephenson Hall. Information: Jenn Herbach.
• Outreach Committee meets Sunday, June 24, after potluck.
THE LARGER CHURCH
• Retirement Party for Rev. Karen Crooch, Morningside UMC, Salem, Saturday, June 23, 1-4pm.
• Creation Vacation, June 30-July 4, Camp Magruder. See Marcia for more information.
• Sing Across the Walls: 2007 Oregon-Idaho School of Christian Mission, July 12-15, George Fox University, Newberg, OR. Registration Deadline is June 29.
• UMW Young Women’s Event, July 13-15, George Fox University, Newberg, OR.
THE COMMUNITY
• Game Days, First and Third Sundays, 2-5pm, University Park Coffee Shop.
• Portsmouth Neighborhood Association Event, Walking the Neighborhood, Tuesday, June 5, 7pm, Clarendon Elementary School.
FUTURE EVENTS, FOR YOUR CALENDAR
• Third Annual North Portland Pride Festival, Sunday, August 12, Noon-4pm, UPUMC.
• UPUMC FUNd-raising Cruise, September 16-23, 2007. Talk to Betty Cruson to sign up.
WEEKLY AT UPUMC
• Choir practices Sundays at 9:30am, Tuesdays at 6:30pm, Sanctuary.
• Men’s Group, Tuesdays, 10am, Narthex.
• Alcoholics Anonymous, Narthex, Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays at 8pm, weekly.
• Overeaters Anonymous, Wednesdays at 7pm.
• Morrison Center Program, Thursdays 5-9pm, beginning June 21.
STAYING IN TOUCH
Edna Riddle, Sunrise Adult Care Center, 11945 SW Butner Rd., Portland OR 97225; 503-841-1295.
Harriet Bonhorst, Pioneer Tower, 515 P Street #202, Sacramento, CA 95814; phone: 1-916-446-4863.
Erica Martinez, 182 E Nevada St. Ashland, OR 97520. Cell phone: 1-503-791-3680.
Elmina Nath, 5525 NE 15th Ave., Portland, OR 97213, telephone 503-206-7654.
Jeanne Pulliam, 8603 SE Causey Ave, Apt 202; Happy Valley, OR 97086-2604, Telephone 503-594-2539.
Aleena Sologar, 6611 NE MLK Blvd Apt. 101, Portland, OR 97211. 503-285-4761.
HOLDING IN PRAYER
Dana Brandt—cancer, chemo—at home.
Carolyn Hammett—cancer, chemo—at home.
Bev Heginbotham—chemo—at home.
Phil Herbach—awaiting hip replacement—at home.
THE NURSERY IS STAFFED DURING WORSHIP FOR CHILDREN YOUNGER THAN SCHOOL AGE.
Show (0) - Add comments: |
|
Read more...
|
|
|
Written by scott
|
|
Monday, 11 June 2007 |
CONNECTIONS
UPUMC
• Unbinding the Gospel, Adult Sunday School meets Summer Sundays, 11:30pm, Errol Stephenson Hall, beginning today.
• Staff-Parish Relations Committee meets Monday, June 18, 6:30pm, Errol Stephenson Hall.
• Administrative Council meets Monday, June 18, 7:30pm, Errol Stephenson Hall.
• Lunch Bunch, Cup and Saucer, Tuesday, June 19, 12:30pm. Bev Read makes reservations.
• Family Karaoke Night, 6:30-9pm, Saturday, June 23, Errol Stephenson Hall. Information: Jenn Herbach.
• Outreach Committee meets Sunday, June 24, after potluck.
THE LARGER CHURCH
• Retirement Party for Rev. Karen Crooch, Morningside UMC, Salem, Saturday, June 23, 1-4pm.
• Creation Vacation, June 30-July 4, Camp Magruder. See Marcia for more information.
• Sing Across the Walls: 2007 Oregon-Idaho School of Christian Mission, July 12-15, George Fox University, Newberg, OR. Registration Deadline is June 29.
• UMW Young Women’s Event, July 13-15, George Fox University, Newberg, OR.
THE COMMUNITY
• Game Days, First and Third Sundays, 2-5pm, University Park Coffee Shop.
• Portsmouth Neighborhood Association Event, Walking the Neighborhood, Tuesday, June 5, 7pm, Clarendon Elementary School.
FUTURE EVENTS, FOR YOUR CALENDAR
• Third Annual North Portland Pride Festival, Sunday, August 12, Noon-4pm, UPUMC.
• UPUMC FUNd-raising Cruise, September 16-23, 2007. Talk to Betty Cruson to sign up.
WEEKLY AT UPUMC
• Choir practices Sundays at 9:30am, Tuesdays at 6:30pm, Sanctuary.
• Men’s Group, Tuesdays, 10am, Narthex.
• Alcoholics Anonymous, Narthex, Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays at 8pm, weekly.
• Overeaters Anonymous, Wednesdays at 7pm.
• Morrison Center Program, Thursdays 5-9pm, beginning June 21.
STAYING IN TOUCH
Edna Riddle, Sunrise Adult Care Center, 11945 SW Butner Rd., Portland OR 97225; 503-841-1295.
Harriet Bonhorst, Pioneer Tower, 515 P Street #202, Sacramento, CA 95814; phone: 1-916-446-4863.
Erica Martinez, 182 E Nevada St. Ashland, OR 97520. Cell phone: 1-503-791-3680.
Elmina Nath, 5525 NE 15th Ave., Portland, OR 97213, telephone 503-206-7654.
Jeanne Pulliam, 8603 SE Causey Ave, Apt 202; Happy Valley, OR 97086-2604, Telephone 503-594-2539.
Aleena Sologar, 6611 NE MLK Blvd Apt. 101, Portland, OR 97211. 503-285-4761.
HOLDING IN PRAYER
Dana Brandt—cancer, chemo—at home.
Carolyn Hammett—cancer, chemo—at home.
Bev Heginbotham—chemo—at home.
Phil Herbach—awaiting hip replacement—at home.
THE NURSERY IS STAFFED DURING WORSHIP FOR CHILDREN YOUNGER THAN SCHOOL AGE.
Show (0) - Add comments: |
|
Last Updated ( Monday, 11 June 2007 )
|
|
Read more...
|
|
|
Written by scott
|
|
Sunday, 10 June 2007 |
HOPE LIVES
Acts 10:34-43; Luke 24:1-12
April 8, 2007
Easter
I was talking with a friend, another pastor, who commented that preaching on Christmas and Easter was the hardest of all: that she felt pressure to do her very best on days most likely to bring together those who are present only a few times a year with those who are here week in and week out: what can be fresh and compelling and accessible in such a setting? In our conversation, I said that I thought that Christmas preaching was all about one common theme: we are not alone; and that Easter preaching speaks to the other most common human longing: evil does not triumph.
Last week, we made a harrowing journey, traveling in time from the glorious ecstasy of Palm Sunday to the wrenching pain of Good Friday, from celebration to crucifixion, entering the sanctuary with palm fronds and song, beating tambourines to hasten our excited procession, and then putting ourselves into the story, right up to the point when we sang together, “Were You There?” and trembled, ourselves, in this time, to remember.
Through the week, parts of the story echoed for us. On Thursday, some of us gathered to eat a simple meal, remembering the last time Jesus gathered with his followers. After the meal, we prayed for healing, for ourselves and others, and then we gathered, children and grown-ups together, to color 47 dozen eggs, our gift to neighboring children and families who might not have the resources that we take for granted, making a rehearsal of the charge Jesus laid upon us, that we love our neighbors as ourselves, making this a lived out story for our children, a story of the duty and joy of service to others.
Some of us had been giving ourselves to a weekly discipline of fellowship, prayer, and spiritual growth. We met as a group on Wednesday, and then again on Friday night and Saturday. We have been learning and practicing the discipline of listening, listening deeply and with love to one another. This week, we experienced the pain and awe that is present when people slip off the masks and start talking openly with each other, sharing confusions and betrayals, short-comings and longings. It felt as though we walked the path from the Palm Sunday glory to the Good Friday despair all week long. It has made the stories we read last week very real.
We gather today, then, to remember and reflect upon the experience of the women and men who had followed Jesus on his journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, who had given up old ways to join him in the proclamation that God’s realm was at hand, who had believed so intensely, and then been utterly crushed to watch as this man, this one they understood as the Son of God, this teacher, this healer, this liberator, this source of all hope and vision, this one they loved more than they had thought they could ever love—they had watched this one be captured, tried, sentenced, tortured, reviled, and killed. Can you imagine their grief, their despair, as they made their way back to the tomb on the day after the Sabbath, going to express their love and devotion in the only way they could imagine, given what had happened, going to tend to the broken body of the Lord they had loved so much—and then meeting with bright beings who told them what no one could comprehend: “He is not here, but has risen.”
The women, these women who loved Jesus so much, Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary who was the mother of James and Jesus, and others, went back to the place where the men had gathered, grieving, terrified, despairing, went back and told what they had seen. And the apostles, oh, in such a human response, they looked at each other and said, in different ways, “Well, you know women. They can’t take the despair, the hard edges of reality, they’re making up a tale—maybe they believe it, but we know it can’t be true—making up a tale so as not to have to face the despair, now that the one we believed in has been killed.” Can you hear them, not wanting to be jerked around by the terrible demands of hope, defending their “realistic” despair? Do you know that some of the most ancient texts lack the line that says that Peter got up and ran to the tomb, stooped to see the linen cloths there, and was amazed at what had happened? It is possible, these oldest versions of Luke’s gospel tell us, that the original news of resurrection was attested to only by women, women who could not give testimony in court, women who were not allowed into the inner circle of the worshipping community, women who had left their socially defined roles, forsaking all to follow the one who treated them as whole and faithful and sacred people, that it was the women of a women-demeaning culture who were first to proclaim that, in some way that they could not understand but knew to be true, the one who was Jesus was not dead; the Lord lived on, even after death. What an amazing claim!
Almost as amazing as Peter’s testimony, years later, after he had come to believe the women’s tale, after he had also experienced Christ alive, after he had given his life to spreading the wonderful news of Easter, and God and God’s actions with God’s people, with God’s chosen people. The lectionary passage comes at the end of the report of a vision that changed Peter’s life and ministry. For, you see, after the death of Jesus, followers told the story, spreading the news of God alive in their midst, conquering death, and in the telling, brought others into a Jewish movement following the Nazarene, Jesus. Jewish leaders were disturbed by this movement that threatened to split the faith, disturbed even to the point of creating a curse against the Nazarites (the earliest Jewish name for these followers of the way.) Paul, a Jewish scholar and rabbi, was among those who persecuted followers of Jesus until his conversion; afterwards, he had traveled around the Mediterranean world making converts, among the Jewish communities, and among the Gentiles, the people who were not bound by Jewish practices. As Paul’s communities of believers grew, tension developed within the Jesus movement: did one need to be a Jew to be a Christian, or not?
How important was this question? For a people who had always understood their people to be the chosen people of God, incredibly important, equal in importance, I would contend, as if a question were now put to Christians: does one need to be a Christian to be saved? Does God have favorites? Is one people chosen?
Peter had a vision of God commanding him to break the laws of kosher that identified Jews as Jews, commanding him to recognize that God shows no partiality among peoples. It transformed him, bringing him to go to the council and argue against the very rule that he had so adamantly supported: that God demanded that God’s followers adhere to Jewish beliefs and practices. Can you hear the radical breakthrough that this was? God was alive in the midst of them, rolling back stones, bringing down barriers, turning grief into insight and boundaries into welcome mats. God was doing a new, a living, a miraculous thing, not only in the experience that Christ lived beyond the crucifixion of the man Jesus, but in the overturning of long-held suppositions and understandings of how the world was to be.
This week, some of us experienced again the ways in which God is at work to turn grief into life and hope. Friday night, the Companions group invited people from the Alcoholics Anonymous group that meets here at UPUMC to join us for dinner and conversation. Afterwards, we went to the AA meeting with them. We heard stories of wrenching pain and of amazing spiritual growth. We listened to one man there for his first meeting, grief stricken and fearful that he has likely destroyed his marriage and family; we saw one woman twist and jitter as she tries to settle down, we heard stories of lives redeemed and of God present and real. Men and women who thought the walls might fall in if they came into a church now testify to God’s deep love for them, “for me, for me personally, God has told me that I am His beloved child and He’s with me every day.” It was an awesome experience, to be present with people who have traveled fro gutters to glory, who know God to be utterly real and essential in their lives.
Saturday, those of us who have taken this class together talked about what it has meant for us, to gather and share, to listen deeply and dare to be real. We made connections between our lives and the stories we had heard the night before, connections that turn on our own captivity to fear and to culturally driven addictions, but also on our longing for deep belonging, truthfulness and growth.
We ended the retreat by writing letters, reflections on what we had experienced and learned. We will gather again to refine them, to bring testimony about our faith to you, our beloved congregation, but for today, I want to share some of the beautiful and poignant truths we found ourselves sharing.
Listen then, to this witness, voices of people here among you, come to us like the witness of the women running in to tell their stories of wonder and amazement.
Dear ones, I want to say how encouraged I am by the experiences I have shared. I felt a bit uneasy and fearful when we began the series, but have felt nothing but acceptance and openness as we each shared our personal place of growth, pain, burdens and joy. Learning to listen and making time to connect with each other has opened my heart and my mind to God’s will in my life to listen to the cries of his people.
It was a time of togetherness, getting to know more about each other, whatever it was.
For six weeks we gathered together once a week, formed a circle of strength and protection, and bore witness to each other’s journeys of faith. Within this circle, we engaged our voices, our hands, our eyes and our ears in the delicate work of emerging from exile. this coming out was in direct response to the call of God’s great Spirit, spilling over and amongst us with abundance and urgency. At moments we caught glimpses of the fellowship that awaits us, should we make this crossing. I write so that we may not forget the details of those moments, and so that others, too, can make their way through the wilderness, and come home.
It’s been for me a great relief to share, get tears, and speak when I was ready. I love these people even more; we are all more real and open.
In this time a group of us shared our real pain, real life, real feelings and were able to uphold each other by being together regularly, knowing the value of spiritual time and this is what really gets us through it. We knew how to pray for one another. We felt each other’s pain; we were community. I am God’s beloved, he loves me (us) for who and what we are now. WOW. God loves every human and feels the pain of each one of us—He desires to let people feel and know his love and he uses us as vessels to touch those he brings into our circle of contacts.
I can’t solve others’ problems nor should I have to. Others can’t solve my problems, nor should they have to. Our duties to one another are to be there, to be present to and for one another. We lift our problems up to God. We are imperfect in totality alone, a little more perfect together with others and closer to perfection with God.
We have traded affluence for true joy and peace with our maker and with ourselves; we have given up the discipline of bearing one another’s burdens; we have been seduced by a dark side into believing worldly riches will give us happiness; we are all now broken because of these choices.
One of the images that came from the study was that we all sit beside our won pool of tears. We cover it over, as best we can, though, so that others can’t see it or experience it. We put on a game face and try to appear as if nothing is wrong. As we talked about our own pools of tears, we came to the conclusion that if we could combine them there would be enough breadth and depth so that we could swim together—experience each other’s pain but also experience each other’s joy. Won’t you take the risk to jump into the pool?
I’ve watched while others modeled a way of honesty and deep spiritual growth, something I want, deeply, for myself and for our congregation. I wonder, could we dare to live as people who trust only in God, who see each other as beloved, who find Christ in the recovering alcoholic and in the recovering player of the social game? Can we be like that? Could we become a community that offers deep welcome which is the way of authentic love? O, I hope so. I long for that life in us.
Christ has died, Christ is risen. Death is not the end. Hope lives, in spite of the cross, in the face of injustice and anguish, in the continuing dynamic of hope and trust and determination that is our calling, that is our faith.
Dorothy Sőlle has written it this way:
The Resurrection cannot be discussed in isolation, as if it had nothing to do with the cross. As if Jesus would in any case, even if he had died of old age, have gotten the benefit of this wonder drug. If we keep before our eyes what this puzzling phrase ‘resurrected from the dead’ says, then the reality ‘cross’ belongs to it: whoever lives in love has to reckon with contempt, abuse, discrimination, even with death. In this other way of living, the Resurrection is already visible long before death. Jesus believed above all—and for all—in a life before death. The Resurrection, this spark of life, was already in him. And only because of this God-in-him were they unable to kill him. It simply did not function. Even today the powerful do not succeed in extinguishing this love of justice, this sustained interest in the ‘last.’
It is wonderful news, wonderful, amazing news, this refrain, Christ is risen, Christ is risen indeed. It speaks our hope, our conviction, our utter trust that God lives on, undefeated by death, or evil, or apathy, or injustice. Resurrection is real, over and over, every time any one of us looks despair in the face and still lives in hope, every time we refuse to let injustice be the final word, every time we see the face of God in our neighbors, here, or around the world. Christ is risen! And the people reply: Christ is risen, indeed! Thanks be to God. Amen.
Show (0) - Add comments: |
|
Last Updated ( Monday, 11 June 2007 )
|
|
|
FOR THE HEALIING OF THE NATIONS |
|
Written by scott
|
|
Sunday, 10 June 2007 |
FOR THE HEALIING OF THE NATIONS
Acts 16:9-15; Revelation 21:9-22:5; John 14:25-29
May 13, 2007
I was struck, when I read the full passage from the Revelation of John, by the names and varieties of rock, of stone, that were a part of his vision of the City of God. Jasper, sapphire, agate, emerald, onyx, carnelian, chrysolite, beryl, topaz, chrysoprase, jacinth and amethyst. I went looking in my book of rocks and minerals and found that all the colors are there: reddish brown, deep blue, white and yellow and orange and clear, deep green, black, red, gray-green, green-blue, pale yellow and tawny orange, apple green, smoky brown, pink, lavender and purple. It set me to thinking. In John’s vision, the fantastic, beloved, awaited city of God would be built of materials of the earth—common stones, cut and polished and shaped to reflect the glory of God. And not just some stones—all of them, a rainbow of all of the wonderful, precious stones known to his culture.
Do you know, the ecumenical church really, really does not like the Revelation of John very much. In the three year cycle of the lectionary, passages from this book appear only ten times, five of them the passage we read today, the other five distributed among three other short passages from the book. This is not new. For centuries, the Church of England allowed only small portions of the book to be read at morning and evening prayers. In 1522, Martin Luther claimed that the Revelation is “neither apostolic nor prophetic.” If we put this general suspicion of the book together with its general capture by fundamentalist Christians who claim that it is an encoded prediction of historical events that will precede the Second Coming of Christ, we have ample understanding of why we mostly want to avoid dealing with John’s vision.
And yet, there is another point of view. German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, executed for his active opposition to Adolph Hitler in Nazi Germany, exhorted the church to be a community which hears the Apocalypse and resists the false principle of “inner-worldliness,” putting itself “at the service of those who suffer violence and injustice,” claiming that “the Church takes to itself all the sufferers, all the forsaken of every party and status.” His claim that the Church was called by this book to counter-cultural witness, to raise its voice in protest at the mistreatment of Jews, that claim has continuing resonance in our time, in this very time, as well.
What of the book then—what is it about? First of all, it is a vision, which, like dreams, is open to many interpretations. It is a vision, however that sprang from a particular historical context. In the late 90s, the Roman Emperor Domitian took actions against members of his court for the crime of “atheism”—which, in his case, meant refusing to acknowledge the divinity of the imperial line. Thus, Christians were persecuted as atheists because they would not take part in the one ‘religion’ that united the realm, the worship of the Emperor as God, as the supreme arbiter and valuer of all being. John, a pastor to seven churches in Asia Minor, the area of Turkey, was imprisoned on the island of Patmos. He knew that his people were being persecuted, and that sending word to encourage them, word that confronted Rome or the Emperor, would put his people in even greater danger of persecution, torture, or death. Moreover, he knew that some were advising Christians to accommodate themselves to Emperor worship, to go along with their bodies, doing what must needs be done, without really agreeing in their hearts, minds and souls. John saw this as the pathway to destruction of the soul and of the faith. He truly needed to counsel his troubled congregations, but not in direct and clear language.
It was in this situation, troubled, praying, searching for a way, that John had a vision, a vision of a great battle between good and evil, a vision built out of the Jewish history of Babylonian captivity and, as well, out of religious imagery that had come to Jewish people out of a religion that flourished in the area we now call Iran. Good and evil, order and chaos, light and dark, divinity and matter, these were represented in two forces, God and Satan, engaged in a great cosmic battle for dominance. The battle has raged around us, he saw, but good—God, Christ—has won, and the troubles we are in the midst of are only the death throes of the mighty dragon of evil, thrashing about as it dies. Christ has fought the battle with death and has won, John told his people, and we need only stay faithful to that conviction. We, oppressed, persecuted, we need not defeat evil. Indeed, we can’t defeat evil. But God can, and has. What we are called to do is to live our lives in faithfulness to that knowledge, to refuse, even in the midst of chaos and danger, to compromise our devotion to God. Those who turn to ways of accommodation, to cowardice, to idolatry of different kinds, they are the ones who will not enter into God’s realm, which is coming, coming very soon, even as the serpent is thrashing about in the final stages of death.
Do you hear the comfort and guidance the vision could give to a community wrestling with how to respond to an emperor who demanded worship and had the power to destroy those who would not worship him? Do you hear the call to courage—he has already lost, he just doesn’t know it yet. Be faithful, stay strong in your convictions, know that you will live on with the Lord.
And, how will it be, in that realm of God? There will be no death, no night, no hunger nor thirst. God will live amongst the people, who will live directly in God’s light. All the nations will be led by God; all the kings will honor God’s will; the leaves of the tree of life will heal the nations, all of them. Do you hear the echoes of the Genesis story of human failure and exile from Eden? The tree of life will now be the source of healing and people and nations will return to a condition where God can walk among them, can live in the midst of them.
And the city of God will be built of common stones, stones made beautiful by the cutting and polishing, but stones nonetheless. Stones, the common instrument of violence and death, stones would adorn the walls of the City of God. It brings to mind another scripture, from Isaiah, which promises that swords will be molded into plowshares, spears to pruning hooks. This is a vision of a peace to come, a peace that will come because it is the will and action of God, a peace that will transform the tools of war and violence into implements of peace and plenty and safe shelter.
Today is Mother’s Day, the day when we Americans place the most phone calls of the year, a day when we buy flowers and maybe take mothers out to dinner or send a card. Do you know that this honoring of mothers is a far cry from the intention of the day, as set forth by Julia Ward Howe?
Julie Ward Howe wrote the song, The Battle Hymn of the Republic, in 1861. She was an opponent of slavery who had visited a Union camp, early in the Civil War, and took up the challenge to write a song to inspire the soldiers with “uplifting” lyrics. Her original lyrics were these:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.
He is trampling out the wine press, where the grapes of wrath are stored,
He hath loosed the fateful lightnings of his terrible swift sword,
His truth is marching on.
I have seen him in the watchfires of an hundred circling camps
They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps,
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.
I have read a burning Gospel writ in fiery rows of steel,
As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal,
Let the hero born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Our God is marching on.
He has sounded out the trumpet that shall never call retreat,
He has waked the earth's dull sorrow with a high ecstatic beat,
Oh! be swift my soul to answer him, be jubilant my feet!
Our God is marching on.
In the whiteness of the lilies he was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that shines out on you and me,
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
Our God is marching on.
He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He is wisdom to the mighty, he is succour to the brave,
So the world shall be his footstool, and the soul of Time his slave,
Our God is marching on.
In the next decade, Julia Ward Howe came to a different point of view. War, she determined, and fighting, were not making the world better, or safer. Sickened by the carnage of the Civil War and its aftermath, she became an activist for a peaceful and just society for all. In 1870, she issued a call for a “Mother’s Day” and issued this proclamation:
Arise then, women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts! Whether your baptism be or water or of tears! Say firmly: “We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands w will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.”
From the voice of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own. It says, “Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.” Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession. As men have forsaken the plough and anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest counsel. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient and the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.
So now the question comes to us. How will we honor the energy and practice of mothering? How will we keep faith with the idea that God has not left it to us to fight the evil dragons of our time—God calls us to a more faithful witness, that we can reshape the world through love. I read an interesting statistic this week. In the past 6000 years of human history, there have been over 27,000 recorded wars. War does not bring peace, or justice, or health for growing children. It is time for a new approach.
I came across a sweet little book, The Great Silent Grandmother Gathering, a story for anyone who thinks she can’t save the world, by Sharon Mehdi. It’s a short story, perhaps foolish, but I want to share it. Call it a grandmother’s prerogative. [read story]
Today at 1pm, I will stand quietly near the bell tower for 5 minutes, thinking about how I might begin to live peacefully. I invite you to join me if you wish.
This year, I have a grandson, a sweet little boy named Drew. In 18 years, he will be old enough to be drafted or recruited to go to war. Oh, God, I hope there will be no war that wants his dear life. And so, today, I ask you, in his name and in the name of every child you love, in the name of every mother and father whose heart will be broken if we do not act, let us find a way to use our beautiful stones to build the City of God, to put an end to war.
Show (0) - Add comments: |
|
Last Updated ( Monday, 11 June 2007 )
|
|
|
PENTECOST NOW! AN INVITATION TO NEW LIFE |
|
Written by scott
|
|
Sunday, 10 June 2007 |
PENTECOST NOW! AN INVITATION TO NEW LIFE
May, 2007
Beloved,
We want to tell you about our coming to new life through our Lenten Study Group! Together we caught a glimpse of the fellowship that is ours when we can take off our masks with each other, and be known for who we really are. For six weeks, a group of us -- self-chosen by responding to the invitation to a Lenten study, practiced reading, writing, eating, sharing -- and becoming increasingly real with each other. Each week, we gathered together and formed a circle of strength and protection. Within this circle, we bore witness to our own and each other's journeys of faith. We engaged our voices, our hands, our eyes and our ears in the delicate work of emerging from exile.
We write this so that we may not forget the details of these moments, and so that others too can make their way through the wilderness, and come home. First, let us say clearly what this deeper level learning experience was NOT: it was not judgmental; it was not only about "God stuff;" it was not pressuring; and not about "fixing it for the other person." What it was: a time of togetherness, a time of getting to know more about each other, about the messy details of our lives. We laughed at funny things that were said or maybe something someone did. Sometimes it was hard to put into words the questions that came up from the inside.
At first some of us were uneasy and fearful, but this was dispersed by the acceptance and openness that came into being among us as we each shared our personal place of growth, pain, burdens and joy. It was a great relief to share, get tears, and speak when we were ready. We told and heard things from each other that we never expected to tell or hear. There was an atmosphere of trust and acceptance that we all could partake in, if only we would take the risk of being real.
One of the images that came from the study was that we all sit beside our own pool of tears. Day to day, we cover it over as best we can -- so that others can't see it or experience it. We put on a game face and try to appear as if nothing is wrong. As we talked about our own pools of tears, we came to the conclusion that if we could combine them there would be enough breadth and depth so we could swim together -- experience each other's pain but also experience each other’s joy.
Won't you take the risk to jump in the pool?
The jump is about becoming real: seeing ourselves in each other -- even in the most painful moments. To do this we've had to face our own habits of judgment, and come to sit more comfortably alongside our own pool of tears. We had to take the chance to expose some of our tender spots, some of the parts that maybe we're not very proud of. The process of doing this brought us closer not only to each other, but to all God's people who toil and groan in their daily struggle to survive.
We found that the way "the other half" struggles to survive is not that different from the way we do... and in fact, sometimes it might be more honest. To survive, all people must come together to share real pain, real life, real feelings, upholding each other by being together regularly, and knowing the value of spiritual time. We need to re-learn how to pray for one another, how to feel each other's pain -- how to be community. In this group we caught a glimpse of that. Each of us is God's beloved; God loves us each for who and what we are, now. Wow! God loves every human and feels the pain of each one of us -- and desires to let people feel and know this love. We are God’s hands, touching the ones God has brought into our lives.
This is God's will in our lives -- to dare to listen deeply enough to each other so that we might be changed by what we hear. But instead of such listening, our culture has sought affluence, sacrificing true joy and peace with our Maker and with ourselves. We have given up on the discipline of bearing one another's burdens. We have been "seduced" by our dark sides into believing worldly riches will give us happiness. We are all now broken because of these choices.
We wonder, and we ask you now: could our congregation dare to come out of this exile, and into the awaiting fellowship? Could we live as a people who trust this much in God and in each other, who see each other as beloved, who find Christ in the recovering alcoholic as well as the recovering social game player? Could we become a community that offers that deep welcome which is the way of authentic love?
Could we use the 12 steps for recovering from our own addictions, including more subtle ones like an addiction to things? We must throw off the shackles of materialism, let go of the emptiness / deceitfulness of worldly riches, and realize our own true riches in Christ. For some, we may need to practice "voluntary simplicity" so we can see what we've truly lost. What would it take to begin this process of recovery, to truly enjoy God's creation? We long to live honestly, justly and peacefully.
Could we give up our preconceived ideas and notions about what it means to be a Christian, and simply act as Christ did -- loving and touching those he met? Let the Spirit lead us, teaching us to trust that Christ will be present in our open encounters with those we meet, feeding and strengthening us so that we can grow in true love of the world.
Could we give testimony a primary place, or add testimony time to worship? In testifying to each other, we can come to respect and therefore hear more deeply our fellow church members. We can learn about our own paths while watching others model their way of honesty and deep spiritual growth. This process brings joy and the ability to share the real world with each other.
Could we do these things? Oh, we hope so! We long for this new life at University Park UMC. It has helped us understand anew who we could be as God's people.
We cannot solve each other's problems, nor should we have to. Our duties to one another are to be there, to be present to and for one another. We lift our problem up to God to do with as he/she/it sees fit. God -- Theo/Thea, all-Divine -- can receive our problems; whereas we, mortal beings, being human and imperfect, can't fix them alone. But together we can continually bear one another's burdens up to God. We are imperfect alone; we are a little more perfect with one another; and we are closer still to perfection with God!!
We pursue this perfection in obedient response to the call of God's great Spirit, spilling over and among us with abundance and urgency. Salvation, we believe, is simply the vigilant practicing of these concepts in community. Through risk-taking, honoring and acceptance, and "getting through uncomfortable," we've come a long way! And we have a good road ahead. Taste and see how gracious the Lord is, how tasty and beautiful. This is the reality -- embodied, earthy, tear-filled, joyful and pained -- that is the journey of faith.
Show (0) - Add comments: |
|
Last Updated ( Monday, 11 June 2007 )
|
|
| | << Start < Previous 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Next > End >>
| | Results 51 - 60 of 212 |
|
|
|
Blog
