A Prayer for the Christmas Season

I’ve been champing at the bit to turn on Christmas music, though so far I have resisted in part because of guilt.  Since materialism and consumerism have come to be associated with the Christmas season, I feel guilty for even liking Christmas.  But....now that we have cleared Thanksgiving Day, I have a confession to make: I love Christmas and I don’t think I should have to feel guilty about it anymore!

I love the decorations and the music.  I love the opportunity to seek out personalized and meaningful gifts for those I care about.  I love Christmas and it saddens me that this season has come to symbolize materialism.  Yet it seems that in our struggle to protect Christmas we sometimes make things worse.  Remembering “the reason for the season” becomes just another way of throwing our religion at others as if it were a weapon.  In the process we neglect the deeper meanings of Christmas.  

This time of year we all need a little celebration.  I will not deny that to my atheist friends or those of different faiths.  This holiday need not be about us against them...yet again.  

None of this clamor and fighting speaks to those for whom Christmas is a difficult time due to grief, financial hardships, loneliness, and so on.  But there is a message in Christmas that does.  It is this message that calls to my soul not just with anticipation but with impatient anticipation.  Thus, my prayer for this holiday season:

I have heard it said that people of Christian faith should be more about Easter and less about Christmas.  Easter is a powerful hope but it deals with things beyond this life.  It is a sure and certain hope but one that eludes my imagination, confounds my concrete mind.  The crucifixion is something I can wrap my mind around.  We have only to open our eyes and our hearts to the realities of the world and we recognize the darkness of Good Friday.   When the season is upon us I will dwell with great gratitude at the foot of the cross.  

But, Lord God, I want to stay for a while in Christmas where hope is something I can cradle to my chest.  I want to dwell here where music sings the promise of love, reminding me of those Mary moments in my life when it seems truth and love are about to burst forth from within and change the world.  

Let me hearken to Mary’s song and hear it as a radical claim awakening me for the sake of revolution, to grab hold of the Kingdom of God already present amongst us.  

Let me look into the face of the clearest revelation of your love and let him transform me so that when the “Slaughter of the Innocents” comes again upon this world I will stand up and say, “NO MORE.”

Let me dwell here in the incarnation of your love and let it change me so that materialism and consumerism are a distant clamor that has no claim on me.

Lord God, let me dwell here in Christmas for a while.  I know I am impatient but you understand how this holiday touches us.  Some call it sentimentality but you cradled each of us as you breathed forth the breath of life.  You know the power of that tender love.  It is life changing, not mere sentiment.

 So, let me draw out this Christmas season for a time and savor the message of love herein.  Then let me live that love with generosity and courage.  This I ask in the name of your son who is your love in human flesh, Jesus the Christ.  Amen.

Listening for a new world breathing

I had supper with a friend last Tuesday evening at her home in Wichita. As we sat and enjoyed our meal, my eyes kept wondering to a poster on her dining room wall which featured a quote by the Indian writer and social activist, Arundhati Roy. "Another world is not only possible, she's on the way and, on a quiet day, if you listen very carefully you can hear her breathe."

Last Monday, I offered the meditation at the funeral of a dear friend and parishioner, Larry Hesed. Larry was a mentor, a spiritual guide for many. He inspired a large and diverse community across the United States with humility and gentleness paired with an unwavering impulse and drive for peace and justice in this life, in this world. His was a life cut short by cancer. We already miss him very much.

Towards the end of Larry's funeral meditation, I said, "What is our calling in this life? I believe we are all given gifts, given unique abilities to work for and reveal God's reign in this world. But we're only given glimpses, now and again, that our efforts are not in vain. Thankfully, those glimpses sustain and empower."

Following this funeral, I was grumpy, emotional and tired last Tuesday. Despite my frame of mind, I was gifted with with several of these powerful glimpses.

Glimpse 1: At my mom's encouragement, I watched a 5 minute youtube video of a 12 year old girl addressing the United Nations. At the time, I didn't realize this was footage from 1992 and that this girl is now a socially engaged adult. Her name is Severn Suzuki. Twenty some years ago, she came before the U.N. as a representative for The Environmental Children's Organization (ECO) and she stood up there and boldly called all the adults in the room to task for their gross negligence as our world's leaders. Here's an excerpt from her speech,

"I'm only a child yet I know we are all part of a family, five billion strong, in fact, 30 million species strong and we all share the same air, water and soil--borders and governments will never change that.

"I'm only a child yet I know we are all in this together and should act as one single world towards one single goal...

"I'm only a child yet I know if all the money spent on war was spent on ending poverty and finding environmental answers, what a wonderful place this earth would be!

"Do not forget why you're attending these conferences, who you're doing this for - we are your own children. You are deciding what kind of world we will grow up in....My father always says, 'You are what you do, not what you say.' Well, what you do makes me cry at night. You grown ups say you love us. I challenge you, please make your actions reflect your words."

Surely 12 year old Severn was a foreshadowing of what was to come. She sounded current to me, because children today take for granted a sense of global connectedness that adults too often lack. My children, ages 7 and 9, are aware of world events. When they offer their evening prayers, my son usually includes prayers for Chile, Iraq, Afghanistan, Egypt, Turkey, Haiti, Japan, the Middle East and Joplin, Missouri. He remembers them all. He doesn't let go, like my husband and I do after a few weeks. He keeps stringing them together to form his prayer chain. My kids are keenly aware of environmental issues and are taught to recycle and compost in their rural public school in Kansas. Though as a mother I tend to see my children as exceptional, what I'm describing here is more what I sense is emerging as characteristic of our world's youngest ones, the mentality of their generation. This is great cause for hope.

"Another world is not only possible, she's on the way and, on a quiet day, if you listen very carefully you can hear her breathe."

Glimpse 2: I listened to radio coverage of the Penn State scandal last Tuesday and have continued to follow this story. I grieve for the young boys who have lost so much. Sexual abuse, abuse in all its forms, is a trademark of the old order, that ruled by the forces of chaos and violence. But I have been encouraged by the sports media.

In an emotional interview, Penn State alum and sports analyst, Matt Millen said, "But this is more than just a program, this is more than a football legacy. This is about people. And if we can't protect our kids, we as a society, are pathetic. So, that's where I stand on it...Man's inhumanity towards man is just mind-boggling."

Sports columnist, Pat Forde writes, "Joe Paterno, a man who until last week could make a claim to being the greatest coaching institution in the history of college athletics, was terminated Wednesday night with a phone call. Forty-six years as head football coach at Penn State ended when he was informed...that his services were no longer needed. Effective immediately.

"It's the way some employers would treat a middle manager, not a legend. But in the end, maybe that's heartlessly fitting - after all, Paterno abdicated his powerful role and played the part of a mid-level employee in passing the buck up the ladder when informed in 2002 that an alleged pedophile had raped a boy in the showers of his football complex. The crucial lack of leadership in a moment of dire crisis led to the end of his leadership at Penn State."

Sexual abuse is an issue I have too many personal connections to. And I have become jaded at society's response - it's tendency to cover-up the crime, deny the suffering of abuse victims, even defend the perpetrators. To have the sporting institution of this country, without equivocation, perceive the real victims in this whole mess of awfulness and to publicly take their stand only with those who were abused, I see that as an emerging sensitivity to injustice and the plight of the most vulnerable in this society.

"Another world is not only possible, she's on the way and, on a quiet day, if you listen very carefully you can hear her breathe."

Glimpse 3: This Penn State radio report was followed by an update on the situation in Syria. The government there continues to violently suppress the uprising of it's people. This is terrible, but despite the tyranny, the abuse of power, the citizenry remains steadfast. This last year we have been witness to something very new and very powerful in the history of human civilization. We call it, "The Arab Spring". Uprisings, revolutions, these aren't new. But the manner in which these particular revolutions happened were and are new in that technology has so thoroughly connected us, we can join forces and act in a way that defies political boundaries. And the ways in which the revolutionaries went about seeking change is also telling. These were grassroots efforts, largely nonviolent and leadership was broadly shared. It is commonly acknowledged that the Arab Spring gave birth to the Occupy Movement, another global phenomenon made possible in large part by our technological connectedness.

I pray that the people of Syria might continue to find the strength and resolve to make their voices heard, voices insistent on addressing the abuse of power as they lift up the call for justice.

"Another world is not only possible, she's on the way and, on a quiet day, if you listen very carefully you can hear her breathe."

Thank goodness for these glimpses on Tuesday, because on Wednesday I was plunged right back into the maelstrom of community gossip and controversy, inundated with narrow-minded opinions and the fear that keeps us so grounded to this reality.

One of Larry's favorite scripture verses was from Amos 5, "Let justice roll down like the waters and righteousness like an everflowing stream." Peter seems to answer Amos in one of last week's lectionary texts (2 Peter 3:13), "But, in accordance with his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home." This sounds great, but I'm tired of waiting. I like Jesus' vision much better. The disciples ask Jesus how to pray and Jesus says, "Pray then in this way: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven (Matthew 6:9-10)." Exactly. God's Kingdom comes and God's will is done on earth. We don't have to wait. It's already happening!

When I drove away from our church after the funeral last Monday, I was so grateful for my congregation. When I am with my church community, it is so much easier for me to believe another world is possible and that she's on her way. Some Sunday mornings, if I listen carefully, I can hear her breathe. I've been wrestling with the question, "What do we need from church?" It occurred to me this week, this is what I need. I need church to be the community that offers a glimpse of God's Kingdom being realized here and now and empowers me to go out into the week looking for more evidence and seeking out ways to be a part of that movement. My rural congregation is ever so tiny and faces seemingly insurmountable obstacles in its hope to survive. But I continue to feel driven to fight for this church, to believe in it and place my hope in who we are and who we can become, because I so often hear this new world breathing when I am in this God-infused community. This is not to be taken for granted, but is to be cherished and shared. I pray that we might all be similarly blessed with glimpses of God's Kingdom unfolding in our lives and in our experiences of church. May God's will be done...here....on earth.

"Another world in not only possible, she's on the way and, on a quiet day, if you listen very carefully you can hear her breathe." Amen.

Why the Drought Doesn't Totally Stink

by Sheri

Some positive things about the drought
1.  Dirt roads are awesome for biking now: nearly as hard as pavement but without all the traffic
2.  My hibiscus has been flowering for months!  It thinks we have moved to the tropics with all this sun.
3.  Fewer hedge balls.
4.  Fewer mosquitos.
5.  Harvest shouldn't take long.
6.  Opportunity to test how long our ponds will hold water without rain.
7.  Fewer dandelions in the yard.
8.  No muddy footprints in the house.
9.  One can get a lot of outdoor work done...as long as it doesn't involve digging...or growing things.
10.When I water my plants the smell of wet dirt is almost intoxicating.

Whew!  That stretched my optimism muscles! Optimism is important. If we assume the worst it is difficult to work for the best.

Philippians 4:8 says, "Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." 
This is not about ignoring the hardships of life. This is about finding the good in life and making that good the center of your thoughts, the focus upon which to build.  


I have never considered myself an optimist but I have been consciously enjoying the lack of mosquitos by spending more time outside.  When I water my plants, I breathe deeply the intoxicating smell of wet dirt.  Then I pray that smell will become more prevalent (as in rain).  Then I pray for those who are suffering from even more severe drought around the world and count my blessings again.   If we remove our focus from what is troubling us, we can see what is troubling our neighbor and lend a helping hand.  This is not blind optimism but optimism that sees and distributes hope.


Sometimes, if you look in the right place, even drought can look like this.

A partially opened hibiscus flower in my backyard.

Grief and Hope: Working for a Better World

by Sheri


It has been nearly 13 years since my first husband died.  I was all set to share with you a letter I wrote to him the other day.  I am totally chickening out.  It was just too personal.  
Yet I still want to share some of the thoughts because I think there is a message there that is important, maybe even crucial to our world.  


When Matt died my grief was full of longing for all the wonderful things he could have done in this world.  He was full of passion and a sense of duty and would have done a lot of good.  Part of my focus then was trying to make some of that good happen even without him.  Recently I have realized I need to change that focus.


Matt died from an accident at work.  The story is complicated and personal.  But there were things that could have been done differently and perhaps changed the outcome.  So, to  me part of what took Matt's life was just the way the world works.  Business is business and sometimes the consequences are high.


So, now I want to focus on changing the way the world works. I want to work to make the world a place that is not ruled by "business is business",  self-interest, and self-protection. 


Really the results are not much different.  Some of the good Matt would have done accomplishes the same thing.    But the difference to me is huge.  It is the difference between clinging to a future which can never be and stretching for a future that is a sure and certain hope.  


Many die from the "the way the world works".  Some die from hunger and poverty, as those who have much take even more until there is not enough to go around.  Some die from disease caused by pollutants that we put into our environment in our search for ever more stuff.  Some die from wars and violence, as those who have much fearfully protect it and those who do not lash out in anger.  Recently I have come to realize that many die from diseases, accidents, and even natural disasters that could possibly have been prevented or cured or protected against if so many resources and brilliant minds were not being directed towards war machines and the selling of more stuff.


Grief is such a helpless feeling.  There is nothing to do to bring a loved one back.  Matt is gone.  No cliche will change that.  But those of us burdened with grief, (and, Lord, we are many), do not have to be burdened also with helplessness.  We can rise up and change the world.  We can live our lives working for change, moving toward a day when the only grief that is prevalent in this world will be saying goodbye to one who has lived a long and fruitful life.  I can just hear you all saying, "Like that could ever happen."  It is funny to be writing this in connection with Matt.  He would have probably said that too.  


But, it is imperative that we are hopeful.  If we give in to despair we look at the world and say, "Forget it, this is as good as it gets."  I will not accept that.  We can do better.  I will hope.  As hard as I grieved for Matt, I will hope that much harder.  With hope, change will happen.


I know I cannot single handedly change the world.  I am not planning some huge self-sacrificing gesture in that interest.  But, when I make decisions in my life I will try to choose what changes the focus away from "business is business".  The wonderful thing is, in honoring Matt in this way I also make a better, safer future for the family I have now.  And I have a great help mate in doing that with a husband who is committed to teaching young people.  


Clearly I will need help beyond my wonderful husband.  Human beings cannot change the world on their own.  But, I will let that "sure and certain hope" work on you as is appropriate for your life.  Matt had a faith that tended toward irreverence and skepticism, especially regarding the institutional church.  He knew that saying "Jesus... Jesus... Jesus" didn't necessarily mean you were talking about Jesus at all.  So, it seems appropriate that I leave it at that.  

Where has our hope gone?

by Lynn



Author Brian McClaren relates a cool story about one Argentinean family's efforts to help an impoverished, indigenous community in the southern mountains of Argentina. The family partners with the community to address their greatest concern, their need of a school to educate their children. This family provides the architect, rounds up volunteers to help build and together they accomplish their goal.
McLaren writes, "But a question wouldn't let go of my attention: 'Why, I asked her, 'didn't the people try to build a school before?' My experience in many slums and depressed areas in the previous months had brought this question into focus. In so many cases, thousands, millions of people scraped by day after day. Often, they sank into alcoholism or turned on one another in violence and crime. If they had only organized themselves and combined efforts, they could have made a profound difference.
"This paralysis, this complacency, this self-sabotaging behavior were not just problems of slums, I had come to realize: they also were typical of my own country, of the so-called civilized world in general, and its failures to address our critical global crises--politically, environmentally, economically, socially, spiritually. What holds us back? Why do we continue to persist in ways of living that are so complacent, so pathetically counterproductive, so obviously suicidal?"
So McClaren posed his question to his Argentinean friend. "What held the indigenous people back?" Without hesitation, she replied, "The people had no hope."
When Jesus starts his ministry, he goes to the equivalent of his hometown church and reads from the book of Isaiah, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." Jesus concludes saying, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." Today!! Not at some distant point in the future. Not in the age to come. Today. Now. God's Kingdom is here! And if we believe this, there's a whole blueprint in the gospels on how to frame our life and it's really got nothing to do with how societies have chosen to structure life for the last 2,000 years.
But do we believe this? Do we believe a better world, a better life is possible, right now, within our grasp? Do we? I don't think so. I don't think we really believe this at all.
Certainly I don't see much evidence the church believes it's own message. If it did, we'd have a very different church in North America today. What we have now and what we have mostly always had are churches that have chosen to accommodate society. I'm speaking in large generalizations here, but the facts are deeply disturbing. For generation upon generation we have lived with societies that allow a select few to have an enormous amount of wealth and power while the ever increasing majority has not enough. And so often the church has identified itself with the powerful minority. Our whole system of civilization keeps reproducing these same results. And the church, that body that is supposed to get in there and have at this system from within, has, in the end, done very little. So my conclusion is we have a church that at worst, likes the domination system and at best, has no hope for changing it. Neither of those responses have anything to do with following Christ, being a Christian.
I have some serious reservations about the traditional structure of the church. Our structure has sucked a lot of life right out of the equation and there must be life in order for there to be hope. Why do we confine church to a few hours one morning a week? This boxes church in, limiting it to a strictly defined place and time. Even more concerning is the role of the pastor. Churches have come to rely far too much on the pastor to chart the course for the congregation and so the church isn't invested in the nature and essence of church as it needs to be. Therefore for most, church is simply the structure provided for the pastor to work with. If you have a good pastor, the structure performs well enough. If you have a bad pastor, things go south fast. And if you have no pastor, well, you have no church. Furthermore, there's something troubling about church spending most of its financial resources on its pastor(s) and its building. And yes, as a pastor who makes her living pastoring, I realize I'm shooting myself in the foot here!
Do we believe Jesus' teaching and example were realistic for this time and place or is it all just pie in the sky? You see how one leads to hope and the other smacks right into resignation and complacency? I have much greater hopes for the church. Church is to be that place that encourages, inspires, motivates and loves us enough to challenge us to live better lives. Church is to witness to hope through an active faith in this world. Church is to be a manifestation of God's Kingdom made visible here and now. If our structure, if this Christendom relic we've inherited, has become an obstacle, stealing our hope away, then it's time for a reboot.
This indigenous community in Argentina, they did something really interesting with their completed school. They gave it to the Argentinean government. They wanted their school to be a public school. And the government didn't quite know what to do with this and had to be persuaded to accept it.
McLaren writes, "Why was it so important to the indigenous people for the school to be a public, government-funded school? Because if the government was responsible for the school, it would, in effect, finally be recognizing that this little indigenous community exists and is part of the society. By owning the school, the government would be acknowledging that this little village was not just a village of 'poor Indians'--it was a village of genuine Argentinean citizens. In this way, the people of the village showed how great their hope really was: not just that their children could be educated, but that their nation could be changed as well, converted from its racism and exclusion, and they would be given a place of respect and value in it."
Hope reborn. Faith moving mountains. A church with enduring hope, real hope, will move mountains. Do we dare believe in all God has promised to do with and through us? That's the question. What's our answer?

(Everything Must Change, by Brain McLaren, 2007)

Frame of Mind

What do you see in this picture?

a) Uggh.  More dirty dishes to clean.
b) Yippee! Someone's been baking!
c) @#$%#! There goes my diet!

For those of you who answered "a", put down the dish cloth , set aside the broom, and take a deep breath.  Relax.  For those who answered "c", remember cyber-food has no calories.  For those who answered "b", good for you!  Way to have a positive frame of mind!  Or maybe you're just hungry.

But, seriously, how we look at life makes a difference.  A few weeks ago I posted a blog about the work of peace-making and some of you responded with some trepidation or despair that you could not possibly find the time to do more work.  Sometimes I don't realize how things sound until you respond.  I really wasn't intending to burden anyone with more things they should be doing.  I guess I was really thinking more about a frame of mind.  If we believe that peace is possible, if we believe there can be creative responses to age old problems, if we hold these things in our hearts and our minds then we will be changed.  When we change our frame of mind or our hearts then we will be open to it when opportunity comes for us to help work for peace and justice.  We will be open to hearing God's call when God calls us to action or prayer or generosity.  We might even rethink how we interact with other people in our lives
         or how we teach our children
                                         or how we vote.

The news is full of stories of woe.  The problems seem so big it is easy to become cynical.  It is crucially important to keep hope alive.  We can make a difference.  Good things and amazing transformations can happen.  I am not sure that I realized how all the negativity was affecting me until I read this article: http://www.worldvisionacts.org/victory_against_hunger  I was so energized by reading that the generosity of the past has radically reduced the suffering of today in at least this one case.  Being swamped with bad news, as we often are, can make us feel like it doesn't really make any difference what we do.  When hope is alive we can and will make a difference.

I am not talking here about close your eyes to the dark, sunshiny optimism.  The realities of the world are indeed harsh, very harsh.  But they are not without hope.  We need not feel defeated by despair.  We can look to the parts of this mess that indicate that someone is baking up some good and do what we can to support those parts of the world.  It will... it does make a difference.