Come Thou Fount

Lately, I've been in love with the song "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing." I go through phases in the hymnal where I hear a song and for a time, it's like the Spirit sang that particular hymn just for me. For a while, that song was "Blessed Assurance" and there was something beautiful to me about the phrase "This is my story." Lately, the song that the Spirit has been singing most to me is "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing."

"Come, thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above;
praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it, mount of God's unchanging love!"

I have to admit, my spiritual life has been feeling a bit of a dry spell. Actually, I suppose it's more like a drought. My prayers feel hollow, as though I'm saying the words but they're hitting the air and immediately shattering due to a lack of substance, like a clay pigeon on a shooting range. I keep praying, though, because I believe that even hollow words breaking into a thousand pieces of broken glass against the air's canopy are better than no words at all.

Maybe the problem is that I'm trying to use words.

It's hard for me not to use words. I am a writer by trade. Oh I know my paycheck and the Presbyterian board of pensions say I'm a pastor, but really I'm a writer. My congregation doesn't know this (well, the ones who read this blog will know this now), but I've actually written quite a few books. I've never published any of them, but they exist in the annals of my cyberspace harddrives and there they sit until something tickles my fancy to pull one of them out and pick at it. They're never quite done. One draft turns into a dozen more drafts, and this inability to let a book go and actually reach it out to a publisher or an agent just keeps me writing more and more drafts. Words are my safeguard, they are my sustinence. I write because I breathe and I can keep breathing because I write. Letting a book go means I can no longer pick at it and it's hard to relinquish that kind of control over my child.

And yet despite all of this love for words and language, it strikes me that perhaps words are what have been weighing me down the most. It's possible that God requires us to speak less and listen more (imagine that, right?). Or, because we lock our spirituality into one and only one medium, our spiritual life goes into a drought because it engages only one part of our being. When I was in seminary, I took a prayer and pastoral care class and we did an exercise one day where we prayed by sound. We stood in a circle facing away from each other and we closed our eyes. The professor instructed us to make the sounds that our spirit was feeling and offer that sound up to God. Some people started humming or singing, others just let out these moans like dying walruses (I seem to recall falling into the latter of the two). Praying through sound was a different experience from praying with words. The professor impressed upon us that God doesn't need our words; He only requests our entire being and our words are only one part of our being.

This week I spent some time in northern Indiana at a pastor's retreat and we took some time in our closing worship to pray with color. One of the leaders read the scripture passage and while she read, we drew pictures on the back of our bulletins. The colors, the scribbles, the depth of the lines expressed what was going on in our souls, or even what wasn't going on in our souls. When words fail us, perhaps it is a reminder from God that our words are just one part of our being and God wants ALL of us.

"Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love; Here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above."

Where are you feeling those dry spells in your spiritual journey right now? If you are like me, perhaps you are needing to try offering up a different part of your being to God. Maybe your words are shallow and hollow and the sound of breaking glass is a reminder that our hearts say a great deal more than our words.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

My "duh" Moment

Remember when we were kids and we learned how to say "Duh!"? Some of us became better than others at getting the eye roll down pat, too.
Well tonight, at age 27 1/2 at exactly 9:44 p.m. CST, I had a "Duh!" moment.
Yesterday I preached a sermon on Hebrews 4:12-16 and the big impetus of my sermon was that the word of God is a living and active partner in our quest towards faithful living. My argument was that we cannot use scripture as a weapon (as many do), the Bible is not a magic 8 ball (I read an excerpt from Augusten Burrough's "Running with Scissors; see "Bible Dipping") and we cannot get "Bible" on Sunday morning alone and call it good. I mentioned that the Bible is there to instruct us and encourage us (see Romans 15) and this was my illustration to illustrate my point:
There's a PBS show on called "Super Why" and it's about these kids who take their life questions to the books for answers. If they have a problem, they consult a children's story and the characters in the book help instruct and encourage the kids in the show to answer their own questions. The background on why I know this (which I didn't include in my sermon) is because I frequently have a "date night" with an honorary sister who has two kids, 4 and 2, who absolutely love "Super Why" and even have most of the songs memorized. With them, I've caught a few episodes.
Now, I have to be honest: I was not a fan when I first watched it. Why? Because they messed up the story of "The Little Red Hen." And by messed up, I mean they used the power of words to change the story so that Little Red Hen actually gets her friends to help her in the end. I was an English major and that makes me kind of a literary snob. I don't like it when people take liberalities with classic stories. So, in the Super Why version of the story, Little Red Hen gets her friends to help her. How? She tells them WHY she needs their help (so she can bake corn bread to feed all her hungry chicks). Suddenly, Little Red Riding Hood knows what she needs to do in order to get her friends to help her pick apples: she needs to tell them WHY.
My point of sharing this with the congregation in my sermon was to illustrate how we, too, can take our questions and our problems to scripture and see examples of people who may not look or live just like us, but they have the same questions and problems as we do: "How do we live as God's children in a broken world?" The Bible is there to encourage and instruct us, so we can use it as a guide. My father has an acronym that he uses: "Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth" (B.I.B.L.E.). So true!
Well, now the moment you've been waiting for: my "duh" moment. Tonight I got a free E-book from a Lutheran seminary called "Renew 52" and it's a collection of advice from 50+ leaders 50 years old or younger on how to stimulate and renew a congregation. How do you get a congregation excited about ministry? How do you stimulate volunteers?
The first essay, on leadership, is called "Into the Vision" by Sara Hayden. And Sara's advice to stimulate volunteers and encourage renewal, is, low and behold tell them why.
I laughed a little. I actually startled my cat, who was curled up so nicely at the foot of my bed and proceeded to give me the stink eye because I disturbed him.
"My idea for churches seeking renewal is to start wiht the 'why', the big reason for which the church exists. Every ministry and detail of the church should flow from and come back to that." Sara Hayden is a wise lady.
How often do we ask for things to get done in the church without telling people why? Those of you with toddlers might be sick of the "why" question.
"Go pick up your toys."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"Why?"
::facepalm::
Of course, those with teenagers, friends, adult children, and parents might be tire of the "why" question, too. But consider the "why" question in church.
"Why should I volunteer to teach Sunday school?"
Not just beacuse someone asked you to or "guilted you" into doing it. Volunteer to teach Sunday school because your name came up as someone who could bring a lot of gifts and energy to a group of kids who are hungry to learn about their faith. We believe very strongly in our church vision that we encourage all of our brothers and sisters in Christ, and what better way to reach out to our brothers and sisters than reach out when they are young? You have a chance to be part of something awesome!
See the difference?
The "why" is important. It's a good reminder of what we're doing here as a church in the first place. We're not here just to bring in people and expand our building. We're here to encourage people, share the good news of Jesus Christ, and find new ways to worship God. Everything we do should glorify God. That's the "why."
Once we have the "why" we can move on to the "how."

Here's to having "duh" moments at every stage of life!

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

ps: I feel like I should clarify: my "duh" moment was not so much that I've never thought about telling people "why" before. It was just really interesting how connected Super Why was to my sermon and then to this essay on telling the congregation "why." I didn't want it to sound like this was a totally new revelation to me. :)

Dedicated to L and Q G-J

Two Kinds of Wisdom: Iago vs. Christ

            Earlier this week I reread Shakespeare’s tragedy, Othello, because I had the rap song from the Reduced Shakespeare Company on Othello stuck in my head. Besides, I was waiting for the cable company to come and fix my cable so I had three hours to spend gorging myself on Shakespeare (incidentally, the cable guy never showed up, but that’s another tirade altogether).

            Othello is an interesting play. It’s about a general named Othello who runs off with a nobleman’s daughter, Desdemona. The nobleman is miffed because he can’t imagine that his pure daughter would go off and marry a soldier without permission. You just didn’t do stuff like that in polite society, especially since Othello is a Moor (a black person) and Desdemona is white. Othello and Desdemona are in love, though, but like all the lovers in Shakespeare’s tragedies, they are doomed from the start.

            But it’s not Othello I really want to talk about. It’s Iago. Iago is not happy with the Moor of Venice. Actually, he hates him. Really hates him. Hates him to the point where he is willing to go to any lengths to get rid of him. Part of the reason Iago hates Othello is that despite all of Iago’s great qualities and credentials, Othello makes Michael Cassio his lieutenant. Iago is left to be Othello’s ancient, which means he is an advisor. Iago is not happy with Cassio’s promotion. What literary critics have said about Iago is that of all Shakespeare’s villains, Iago is probably the most sinister because he maintains his reputation of integrity while spilling poisonous words into everyone else’s ear. All of these terrible things happen to the people in the play because of Iago’s words, but Iago doesn’t have to lift a finger to do the dirty work.

            Iago is the embodiment of what the passage I’m preaching on this Sunday is warning against. In the epistle of James, the author talks about how it is our cravings that cause disputes among us. He says in James 4:1-2, “Those conflicts and disputes among you, where do they come from? Do they not come from your cravings that are at war within you? You want something and do not have it, so you commit murder. And you covet something and you cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts.” Iago wants something: he wants Cassio’s position. The irony of Othello is that it is jealousy that drives jealousy: Shakespeare’s green-eyed monster is what leads Othello to strangle Desdemona, but it is Iago’s jealousy that leads him to use jealousy as Othello’s downfall to begin with. Iago murders his pawn Rodrigo, Othello murders Desdemona, Iago then murders his own wife, Emilia, and the list goes on. In a very literal sense, Iago shows what James means when he says, “You want something and you cannot have it, so you commit murder.”

            How often our ambitions and our envy lead us to say and do things we might not otherwise do.

            It’s ironic that Iago’s position is an ancient. An ancient was someone who was wise and filled with knowledge. It’s Iago’s reputation for his integrity and wisdom that wins him a place at Othello’s side as his advisor. I don’t think it can be argued that Iago is wise; he’s certainly cunning, or crafty. The serpent in Eden was “crafty” or “wise.” James tells us that there are two different kinds of wisdom: wisdom that comes from above and earthly wisdom. Wisdom from above, James said in 3:17 is, “first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy, and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.” Iago is clearly not willing to yield, and he is certainly not filled with mercy. Iago is embodies the second kind of wisdom: “Such wisdom does not come from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, devlish. For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will be disorder and wickedness of every kind.” In short, there will be chaos. And to coin a phrase from The Dark Knight, Iago is an agent of Chaos.

            Christ is our example of the kind of wisdom we are to strive for. When we put others first, realizing that we are all made in the likeness of God and all equal at the level of existence; when we are willing to yield and realize that just because we disagree doesn’t make me right and you wrong; when we realize that everything we say and do is to be said and done in the name of Jesus Christ, we finally embody the kind of wisdom that God calls us to strive towards. Christ yielded; he stood before the religious leaders and let them take him to the cross. Christ came peaceably, using his words to teach and preach the message of salvation. Christ was gentle and full of mercy, reaching out his hands to embrace the widow, the orphan, the sick, and the lame.

        
           My sermon on Sunday is going to focus on another theme that this scripture passage in James 3 and 4 brings up, but it’s interesting how clearly I can see theology peeping through things like Shakespeare. I’ve always been fascinated by Christ and culture studies, and after seeing Iago through the lens of this passage in James, I’m doubly convinced that you can find Christ even in Shakespeare. All we have to do is look J

A Brief History of Pentecost

During the Children's Moment in worship this morning, I gave a brief history of Pentecost and it was requested of me that I try to make that available in writing. I'm hoping this doesn't read too much like a wikipedia page, but here's the brief history of Pentecost as I explained to the kids this morning in worship:

Once a year, we put a bunch of red stuff in our sanctuary. We wear red to church. It made sense to wear red this weekend because Memorial Day is tomorrow, but we also wear red for a different reason (a reason that doesn't always line up with Memorial Day). Today is Pentecost! How many of you know what Pentecost is?

One of my four-year-olds said, "It's like having a birthday!"

That's a perfect answer! It is like having a birthday. We call Pentecost the birthday of the church. But it wasn't always celebrated as the birthday of the church. Pentecost actually started in the Old Testament with a guy named Moses.

The kids had a hard time saying who Moses was, which honestly made me a little worried. So I very briefly talked about how Pharaoh had God's people in slavery and wasn't very nice to them, so God told Moses to go and tell Pharaoh to let the people go. The kids sort of remembered that story and I could see some of the adults nodded, so I started to feel a little better.

Not much. But a little.

So Moses led the people out of Egypt on Passover. Fifty days later, Moses went up on Mt. Sinai and God gave him ten of something. I asked the kids if they remembered what God gave Moses ten of.

"The Ten Commandments!"

Now I felt a little more better (that's a terribly grammatically incorrect statement, but you get my point).

Fifty days after the exodus out of Egypt, God gave Moses the Ten Commandments, rules for how to live in relationship with God and in relationship with each other. Pentecost means, "Fifty Days."

So fast-forward to the New Testament. Every year, people would celebrate the passover and pentecost by making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem where the temple was. Pentecost was a day to celebrate God giving his people the Torah. People would decorate with green things, like flowers and fruit, and they would eat dairy products (I don't know why. I need to ask a Jewish friend what the signficance of dairy is). But in today's world, people eat dairy and some people even build a big cake to represent how big Mt. Sinai was. Now how many people like cake? How many people want ice cream with their cake, especially when it's 96 degrees outside like it is today?

Yeah. Me too. (as I point out that I'm wearing a robe in the sanctuary and I'm HOT)

Jewish kids today still celebrate pentecost as the giving of the law from God to the people. Some people even celebrate graduations on pentecost because learning the Torah is a really big deal. Like, a REALLY big deal.

So a group of disciples and a whole lot of other people who had traveled to Jerusalem to celebrate the giving of the law, or Pentecost, or the "Festival of Weeks" as it was also called, were all gathered together in the synagogue. They were worshipping and singing and it was 50 days after the passover. Suddenly there was this wind in the synagogue and everyone wondered what was going on. Suddenly, in the midst of this wind, tongues of fire appeared on people's shoulders. How many of you have ever had tongues of fire on your shoulders? Yeah, me either. Imagine how crazy that would be! Imagine how scared or confused you might be. The people in the synagogue were scared and confused and they wondered what the heck was happening. The disciples were speaking and everyone could understand them in their native tongue!

What does that mean? Well, remember people were there from all over the known world. If you came to Jerusalem from Italy, you heard the disciples speaking Italian! If you came from France (I know this time line is wrong, but bear with me), you heard the disciples speaking in French! Everyone heard their own language so they understood. They thought the disciples were crazy, and a lot of them said so out loud!

But then Peter got up. Remember who Peter was? He was one of Jesus' disciples. He got up and he said the people weren't crazy, but God had sent His Holy Spirit among them. He reminded the people that Jesus loved them and wanted His Spirit to dwell inside of them so they could go out and tell everyone about Jesus. And that's what we celebrate in Pentecost today. Fifty days after Easter Sunday, we celebrate God's Holy Spirit dwelling among us and we remember to tell everyone how much Jesus loves us and loves them, too. Pentecost reminds us that we are a new creation. Jesus loves us so much, that He sent His Spirit to stay with us and guide us and take care of us. So let's say a prayer.

Dear Lord, thank you for sending us your Spirit to live inside of us and teach us which way to go. Help us to be a new creation as we celebrate the birthday of your church. Happy birthday, church! We love you. Amen.

So that was my children's moment this morning, my brief history of Pentecost. It's not comprehensive, but it's a good reminder of how connected we really are to our Jewish roots. It certainly makes me want to keep learning about the grandfather of our Christian faith. It's good to remember that we come from some place and Christianity didn't just pop out of nowhere. I hope this encourages you, too, to learn more about the roots of your faith. May you feel the Holy Spirit dwelling within you this day of Pentecost and always.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

This week in worship we are celebrating "Older Adult Week." The point of the worship service is to celebrate all the ways that God blesses us through the ministries of the elderly in the church and calls us to remember that the needs of the elderly are just as important as the needs of youth and younger families. According to one resource, the average age of a member in the PC (USA) is 61 (it was 58 in 2001). And with advances in modern medicine, the average age keeps climbing because people are living longer and let's face it: we are not a church of rocking chair-bound seniors. This is a really cool thing, because it means that my church is full of seniors who are active and constantly out and about. They joke that retirement means very little to them because they are just as busy if not busier than they were when they were still working.
The challenge for me to be doing a service celebrating seniors is that I am shall we say age challenged? I'm 27. Obviously talking about aging isn't my strong suit. The challenge is to celebrate seniors without sounding patronizing. I'm very conscious of what it sounds like to be patronized, so I'm going to do my best to avoid that. But as the pastor of a church that is, I would guess, at least 85% people who are over the age of 65, celebrating seniors is something that I feel called to do this year.
In the process of planning the service, I have been thinking a lot about my grandparents. I was very blessed to have all of my grandparents active in my life until I was 21. My paternal grandfather died April 2006 and my paternal grandmother died in 2008; both of my maternal grandparents are still living. All four of my grandparents were extremely active in my upbringing. Because they are all local to where I lived with my parents, my siblings and I never spent a day in day care.
My biblical passage this week is a passage in Romans in which Paul is lifting up Abraham as the epitome of a man of faith. It got me thinking about how the seniors in the church (as well as in the family) are models for the younger generations, even though younger generations don't always appreciate what seniors have to offer. But in many ways, the younger generations are looking to their elders to see what church means to them, who Christ is to them, and what a life of discipleship looks like for them.
So I asked myself what I learned from my grandparents and I'm a person who loves lists, so I compiled a list. It's by no means a comprehensive list, but I wanted to share it with you as a way to celebrate my grandparents and all that they have given me over the course of the last 27 years.

1) Charades is a great game to play when it's raining.
2) Is there really anything more fun than going through a car wash?
3) If you set the cushions of a couch up just right and put a sheet over them, you can make a terribly awesome fort.
4) A basement can easily become a rollar skating rink.
5) Volunteering is a great way to spend retirement.
6) Always keep dog treats handy.
7) Anytime you can support a family member by attending a special event (dance recital, piano recital, grandparents day, whatever), DO IT.
8) Be involved in the church and offer to teach what you know whenever you can.
9) Always say your prayers before bedtime.
10) Wave a newspaper in front of the smoke detector when making toast or the smoke detector will inevitably go off.
11) Take pictures of everything. Twice.
12) Have parties and invite your family and friends. And always have black olives handy.
13) The imagination is a thing to be prized and nurtured.
14) Keep your bread in the microwave.
15) A note will get you out of your grandfather's "Family art class."
16) Sit together as a family whenever you can.
17) Do not call during 7 and 8 p.m. during the week as this is when Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy are on tv.
18) Play the lottery.
19) Tell stories.
20) Always always always take every opportunity to love whenever you can.

May you truly feel blessed by the seniors in your life and take every opportunity that you can to thank them and love them.

Peace,
Pastor Becki

In memory of Nick and Jennie Weltmann and in Honor of Donald and Flora Homer.

A Small Victory!

I don't like talking about this subject, but I'm going to do it anyway because I'm extremely proud of myself for doing what I did today.
What did I do today, you ask?
I walked 3.28 miles. According to mapmywalk, which is the only way I know how many miles I walked for sure. 3.28. That's huge for me. It's been...well, well over what it should be since I walked that far. It was exhausting. But I did it! My legs hurt a lot right now. But I did it! I even have a cramp in my stomach and lower back. But I did it! Why did I do it?
The usual reason.
But I did something new today. Usually when I walk I make sure I take backroads because I have this scenario that plays in my head. Someone who knows me drives by, sees me walking, and thinks to themself, "Yeah, girl, you BETTER walk. Geeze, ease off on the chai tea, why don't chya." I'm sure people aren't think that, but there's this irrational voice in my head judging me for them. Mostly I think people aren't paying attention to me. At least, I like to think people are more focused on the road than they are on the parts of me that jiggle when I walk.
I hate admitting that to you readers that this is what I think about when I'm walking, but it's true.
So today here's what I did that was new: I PURPOSELY walked on the busiest street in town. No kidding. I started with the backroad and then, for those of you who know the town, I walked from the light over by Michael's restaurant straight down the highway back to my apartment by Kroger's. 3.28 miles, half of which was done in the view of everyone and their mother.
Oh
My
Goodness.
But I did it.
And I'm totally tooting my own horn because not only is this a huge deal for me, but I feel a certain humbleness before God because I know I didn't have the strength to do that on my own. I'm SOOO out of shape (and fear not, by the time I got to Hillcrest Golf Course, I was pretty sure I was going to throw up). But I did it because God wants me to take better care of this body that He's given me. So that's what I'm going to do.
I'm reading a book called Made to Crave by Lysa Terkeurst and it's about learning how to ajdust our mentality so that we're craving God, not food. She talked in one chapter about how she was running and just heard God calling her to run farther and so she ended up running 8.6 miles. I'm no where near ready to take 8.6 of anything (nor am I in any position to run), but she said the first thing she did when she got home was look up Psalm 8.6 in honor of her 8.6 miles. And she found a verse that spoke to her about how God spoke to her during that run. So I got home and looked up Psalm 3:28 and realized there's no such verse. So instead I looked up Psalm 32.8 and here's what it says:

⁸ I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.

Yeah, I wanted to stop and take a break at the coffee house on my way back to the apartment (and then call a friend to come pick me up). But I didn't. I kept going because I had something to prove to myself: that if I put my mind to it, if I trust in God's willingness to help, I can totally do this. I'm not saying its going to be easy. I know there will be a lot more tears and angry fist-shaking at the dessert tray in my favorite restaurant before this is over. But I know that God is going to help me.

So you are all witnesses: I'm taking a stand here and now to work on letting my comfort come in God; not in food. Like Lysa says, I'm made for more than this and like Psalm 32 says, God's going to keep a loving eye on me as I go.

He's going to keep a loving eye on you, too, in whatever your journey entails. In whatever you might be battling -- whether it's a weight problem, financial concerns, a rocky relationship, or health problems -- God is going to keep a loving eye on you. There will be tears and there will be fist-shaking at no one in particular. But we will, with God's help, make it happen :-D

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

Ash Wednesday Meditation

Delivered by Rev. Rebecca Weltmann, Ash Wednesday 2012                

           

            When I was a little kid, I loved the movie “Wizard of Oz.” I don’t remember this, but my father will tell you that when I was really little, I would make him go outside with me and we would walk around the backyard singing “Follow the Yellow Brick Road” over and over again. A few years ago, I discovered I also love the book series by L. Frank Baum. I want to read you an excerpt from the second book, “The Land of Oz.” To give you just a brief synopsis of what’s going on, the Scarecrow has been ousted from his throne in a political revolt – well, as political as it can be in the Land of Oz – and he, along with others are being kept prisoner in the castle. He sits and thinks, using those brains that the wizard gave him and he remembers that the wizard escaped Oz in a hot air balloon, so they decide what they have to do is create something that will carry them out of the castle by flight. They have this powder of life that will allow whatever they create to carry them. So, here is an excerpt from “The Land of Oz.”

            “Then let us search through the palace,” continued the Tin Woodman, “and carry all the material we can find to the roof, where I will begin my work.”

            “First, however,” said the Pumpkinhead, “I beg you will release me from this horse, and make me another leg to walk with. For in my present condition I am of no use to myself or to anyone else.”

            So the Tin Woodman knocked a mahogany centre-table to pieces with his axe and fitted one of the legs, which was beautifully carved, on to the body of Jack Pumpkinhead, who was very proud of the acquisition.

            “It seems strange,” said he, as he watched the Tin Woodman work, “that my left leg should be the most elegant and substantial part of me.”

            “That proves that you are unusual,” returned the Scarecrow, “and I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed.”

            “Spoken like a philosopher!” cried the Woggle-Bug as he assisted the Tin Woodman to set Jack upon his feet.

            “How do you feel now?” asked Tim, watching the Pumpkinhead stump around to try his new leg.

            “As good as new,” answered Jack joyfully, “and quite ready to assist you all to escape.”

            “Then let us get to work,” said the Scarecrow in a business-like tone.

            So, glad to be doing anything that might lead to the end of their captivity, the friends separated to wander over the palace in search of fitting material to use in the construction of their aerial machine.[1]

            I love that line, “I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones.” The Scarecrow was always by far my most favorite character in the Oz series. But growing up, I was always sort of different from the other kids my age, so with that in my background I appreciate the kudos for the unusual people. As human beings, we are a little bit like Jack Pumpkinhead, woven together in what might seem like an arbitrary fashion. But piece by piece we are put together. Sometimes, like the Pumpkinhead, our parts wear out and we need replacements, and sometimes there are parts of us that look a little more fashionable than other parts. But all of those things combined are the things that make us what we are. Unusual is one word for it. Fearfully and wonderfully made is another.

            Ash Wednesday is the beginning of the season of Lent. Whether we are anointed with ashes from the palms of last year or healing oil, it’s a season when we remember that we are all sinners and in need of God’s grace. It’s a day when many Christians focus their attention on fasting, praying, and almsgiving. In Lent we realize how totally dependent we as human beings are on the love of our Lord Jesus Christ.

            But how unusual that love is! How unusual is grace that God wants to be in relationship with us, a messy, less than perfect species. Traditionally Ash Wednesday is a day of mourning for our sin and the sin of all humanity before God, but I think we also need to take time to celebrate the fact that despite all those things that make us messy, rebellious, and resentful – we were worth dying for. The grace of God is an unusual thing. We don’t deserve it. We can’t earn it. A lot of times we don’t even recognize it and there are certainly times when we forget to extend grace to others. But through Jesus Christ, God gives us His grace freely and because of the love of Christ we have hope for the future. That is something to celebrate.

            And yet we still want to be mindful of how dependent on God’s grace we really are. We can do nothing apart from our Lord and Savior.

---

[1]               Baum, L. Frank The Land of Oz (Octopus Books Limited: Great Britain, 1979) pgs. 378-9.

The Transfiguration

Begin this blog entry by reading Mark 4:2-9

Tomorrow is Transfiguration Sunday, that transitional Sunday between the season of Epiphany and the Lenten season. I've been somewhat preoccupied with putting things together for our weekly Lenten study that starts up soon, so I thought it might be a nice break to step aside from Lent and think about something else. Since it's on the liturgical calendar and in the lectionary this week, it's no wonder that the story of the Transfiguration popped into my head.

It's a unique little story about how the disciples saw Jesus transfigured on the mountain top and they saw, standing next to him, Moses and Elijah (not to be confused with Elisha, who comes later). I wonder what the disciples must have been thinking when they saw Jesus the Christ with Moses (representing the law) and Elijah (representing the prophets and the prophesy that Elijah would return to mark the appearance of the Messiah).

We know what Peter was thinking.

"DUDE!!!! That was WICKED AWESOME!!!!"

Okay, he probably didn't say dude. Or wicked. Or awesome. But he was struck with awe and he did immediately suggest that they build homes for Moses and Elijah. Beyond that, Peter, like the other disciples, was rendered speechless by fear. Or awe. Or both. At any rate, scripture reports that he "did not know what he was saying."

Have you ever seen something so awesome happen that you just start talking without even knowing what you're saying? You ramble or babble because the only thing you can think to do is move your lips and make sound come out, even if it's incoherent sound. I'm trying to remember if I've ever had a moment where I was so awe-struck that I just started to babble. I'm not sure I can recall that ever happening to me.

It did, however, happen to the disciples as they witnessed the transfiguration. The word "transfigure" means to change appearance, as if to be glorified or exalted. In witnessing the transfiguration of Jesus Christ on that mountain top, the disciples witness Jesus, perhaps for the first time, as both fully human and fully divine. It's not that this is the moment that Jesus becomes God. It's the moment where the disciples catch a glimpse of Christ's divinity. We celebrate it as a liturgical holiday because it's a good reminder for us, too, that Jesus was both fully human and fully divine. We remember this especially as we go into Lent because it is only as a human being that Jesus could die on the cross and it is only as God that Christ could take away the stain of our sins and offer us His perfect grace. Transfiguration Sunday is a reminder of something truly beautiful and something truly awesome.

I have a new awe for this story. I've heard  it so many times that I can't even begin to tell you when I first learned about it (though I suspect I remember the story better from worship than from Sunday school), but for some reason this story has hit me in a new way this year. I keep thinking about the disciples and what must have been going through their minds when they witnessed this incredible thing. What a gift Christ has gievn them, to see a glimpse of His divinity!

...And what a responsibility.

What does it mean for us, as readers, to stand alongside the disciples and witness the Transfiguration? Do you witness this with awe and perhaps a little fear? Or are you, like the disciples, terrified beyond the capacity to speak clearly? Are you indifferent? Or are you wondering what drugs someone slipped into your drink?

As you hear the story read in worship tomorrow or as you read the story to yourself now that I've encouraged you to do so, may you hear it with new ears, see it with new eyes, and stand in awe of the glory of Jesus Christ as we go into this season of Lent together.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

Fare thee well, facebook.

Lately I've been feeling over-saturated by media. I've been really happy to keep the television off and not go on the computer as much at night. I'm hungry for a technology sabbath.

So this morning I deleted my personal facebook account. I was maintaining two accounts: a personal account and my professional account. Today I deactivated the personal account. Why am I friends with all these people that I never talk to? Why do I feel guilty un-friending them? The people I really need to talk to or keep up with are either a) on my professional account or b) in my phone so we text message each other or actually call each other. So I deleted my personal facebook account.

And it actually felt kind of liberating.

Yesterday I did something else bold. I organized my office. I emptied the closet and rearranged all my books according to subject. And it felt liberating.

I've been thinking a lot about this concept of "liberation." Liberation is a pretty big biblical theme (just look at Exodus). What does it mean for us to be liberated in our own time?

For me, liberation means trying to neutralize those things in my life that feel like weights on my shoulders. At the onset, they don't seem like big things. Is having two facebook accounts really a big thing? Is having a messy closet hidden by a door really a big thing? Not really. They are what they are. But if I can subtract and divide those things that drive me just a little bit crazy, it makes a huge difference. And really, who doesn't want to delete those things in their life that add stress?

In his letter to the Colossians, Paul says, "Let the peace that Christ gives control your thinking, because you were all called together in one body to have peace. Always be thankful." How beautiful it is to think that we were called to have peace. In a world where it seems like we're constantly seeking liberation from something -- from facebook, from financial stress, from family arguments, from questionable tv programs, from unfortunate friend drama, from the burdens of past hurts...fill in the blank -- it seems so wonderful to think that we're actually called to peace. I want peace. I want serenity. I take comfort in the fact that I can find those things in Christ and in Christ, I can do all things.

What does liberation mean for you? What are those things in your life that you might need liberation from? How can you ask Christ to help you neutralize those things?

May the peace of Christ envelop you.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

Week of Prayer for Christian Unity

I've been thinking a lot about church membership lately for some reason. When I was ordained, the pastor who gave my charge and the congregation's charge pointed out to everyone that my home church was the only church I had ever -- or would ever -- be a member of. In the Presbyterian Church (USA), once a pastor is ordained, that pastor becomes a member of Presbytery. Presbytery is my church; I am no longer a member of any one particular church. That hit me in a strange way when the pastor doing my charge said that and for some reason I've been thinking about that a lot lately. It probably has something to do with my congregation's focus on how we increase on our membership.

People have very different views on church membership. Some think the obvious thing to do when you start attending a church is to become a member. Others believe that membership is just a way for the church to get new leaders and new pledge cards.

Which, I have to admit, is probably partly true.

There are different reasons for becoming a church member, and several pros and cons to church membership that I'm not going into here. What I'm really interested in this week is the importance of membership not in the particular church, but in the body of Christ.

As a church, we are just one part of the body of Christ. Even the Presbyterian church as a denomination is just one part of the body of Christ. Our brothers and sisters in Christ of every time and every place -regardless of denomination - are a part of that body.

I noticed when I led a new member's class that one of the first things I focused on was what makes the Presbyterian church stand out from other churches. When you come right down to it, the things that are really different are how we do communion, when we do baptism, and how we conduct our church's polity. In retrospect, I kind of wish I'd started that conversation differently. Instead of beginning with where we are different, I wish I had started with where we are the same. We are the same in our belief in Jesus Christ. We are the same in our belief in God's amazing love for us. We are the same in our belief that the power of the Holy Spirit dwells within us and empowers us to live in the grace of God. That's the heart of the week of prayer for Christian unity.

I asked an older member of my church once why she was still Presbyterian. She answered with a smile, "Find me a church where I agree with absolutely every single theological point." Point taken. There really isn't the "perfect denomination." She's totally right.

Our Book of Order reminds us that "Unity is God's gift to the Church in Jesus Christ" and that "Division into different denominations obscures but does not destroy unity in Christ." We talk about how we as a church are to strive towards diminishing that obstruction of unity. How is it that we actually do that? In Washington, Illinois, we have a very active ministerial board. That ministerial board is a gathering open to all the clergy in our community. While not every clergymember in town is active on the board, we are represented by a wealth of ecclesial traditions. At our meetings, we don't talk about what makes us different. Actually, we actively avoid that. We talk about how we as a board can offer pastoral support to each other as well as to the community around us. We hold several events throughout the year, including a community prayer service, a Good Friday service, and Thanksgiving service. We also participate in the Mayor's Prayer Breakfast in the fall. I feel so blessed to be a community where the ministerial board is dedicated to striving towards minimizing the ways in which having different denominations obscures the unity of Christ.

I take comfort in the fact that being part of one denomination or another doesn't mean we are destroying the unity because there are things about being Presbyterian that I certainly don't want to give up. I feel strongly that God has called me to minister in the Reformed tradition.

So this week I'm praying for unity among the entire body of Christ, regardless of what denomination you subscribe to. I'm also praying for unity within the Presbyterian denomination itself. Lord knows we need those kinds of prayers right now. I hope that as you think about how God is calling you in your walk of faith, you think about how you are helping to strive towards minimalizing the obstruction of unity in Christ. How does your church support Christian unity? How do YOU?

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

Praying for Each Other

I have to say, I'm rather embarassed to note that the last time I posted on this blog was in November. I really do have the best of intentions to update this reguarly. Life, as you might have guessed, happens and the Advent season is especially crazy for pastors.

We did something new this year for Advent that I wanted to share with you because it really went over much better than I thought it would. I've heard of "Stations of the Cross" as a spiritual journey we undertake during the Lent season and I was looking for something comparable for Advent. I really wasn't finding what I was looking for, so I decided to make something up and I entitled it "Stations of the Manger." Each classroom downstairs had a different station. Each station had a scripture passage, a devotion, and a prayer practice. Each person went through the stations as individuals instead of as groups. I put up a sign by the door that said, 'Quiet please, prayer in progress' and encouraged people to go through each station at their own pace. Most people took about an hour to get through all five stations. What was really interesting for me was that I didn't see anything actually happening. I stayed up by the front door at a table handing out instructions and maps outlining where each station was and the whole event kind of ran itself. The only way I knew what was actually going on downstairs was the feedback I received from people after the event. Most people were grateful to have something the week before Christmas that actually forced them to slow down, take a deep breath, and encounter Christ in Advent. I even had to make more photocopies of things, something I've never had to do before. The "Stations of the Manger" was truly a testiment to what a powerful experience engaging in prayer can be for people.

Among the changes to the Presbyterian Book of Order is change to the ordination/installation vows. The eighth question for those being ordained or installed as ruling elders, deacons, teaching elders, or certified Christian educators is this: "Will you pray for and seek to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination and love?" (bold print notes the new language). There is something profound, I think, about our leaders taking a vow to pray for the people they serve. We are asking the congregation to trust the decisions this group of people make. It makes sense to hope that they are not making decisions in a vaccuum; it makes sense to hope that decision makers in the church are making decisions based on the direction they hear God calling us as a congregation, not just making decisions based on their own agendas (which does, unfortunately, happen occassionally in church politics). Reminding our leaders to be praying for the people they serve reminds us as a congregation that church politics is not just about the politics; it's also about people serving, encouraging, and praying for other people.

The other side of the coin is that not only should congregations expect their leaders to be praying for them, but leaders should expect their congregations to pray for them, as well. During installation and ordination services, congregations take a vow to agree to "pray for them, to encourage them, to respect their decisions, and to follow as they guide us, serving Jesus Christ, who alone is Head of the Church." As pastor, I hope that my congregation prays for me. Lord knows we pastors need prayer!

This coming Sunday my congregation will be ordaining and installing new officers to the offices of ruling elders (session) and deacons. As we hear the candidates make their vows to pray for us and as we vow that we will pray for them in return, I truly hope we take that vow seriously. As a congregation, we agree to trust each other. Officers trust that congregations will do what they can to make sure our congregation continues to thrive and congregations trust the officers will make decisions that paint a clear picture of God's call for our church.

I deeply encourage you, whether you are an officer of the church, a member (whether a member on roles or a visiting member) of a church, or even someone not connected with the church at all to keep your leaders in your thoughts. I hope this also includes our secular leaders who, Lord knows, also need our prayers. If we keep each other in prayer, I suspect we will quickly feel the evidence of so many hands keeping us uplifted. And if you are praying for someone in particular, I encourage you to tell that person you pray for him or her. Your leaders will appreciate knowing that they are in your prayers and congregations will appreciate knowing that their leaders are keeping them in prayer as well.

Yours in Christ (and keeping you in prayer),
Pastor Becki

Intentionality of Wholistic Living

"Intentionality of wholistic living means being all of who I am and the best of who I can be at church, home, and work." -- John C. Maxwell, Life@Work

One of my goals this year has been to pray more. I know that probably sounds funny coming from a pastor, but since becomming a pastor I've been noticing that one of the areas in which I struggle is my prayer life. It's not that I don't pray, or don't know how to pray because I do and I do. But I don't pray often, and I struggle with praying out loud in front of my congregation.

My congregation members reading this are either a) flinching because they've thought maybe my prayers of the people could use some improving or b) flinching because I openly admit that I struggle with prayer. Or maybe there's a c) and they're just glad to hear that even pastors struggle with prayer. Hopefully it's a little bit of C mixed with either A or B.

I digress.

So one of my goals this year has been to pray more. I got a book on prayers and it's just simple, simple prayers for every day beauties and it reads more like a book of Christian poetry than Christian prayers (though I'm a firm believer that poetry can be prayer and visa versa). Today was one of those days where I was reminded of the power of prayer and how awesome this God we worship really is.

This has been an interesting week. It's involved trying to figure out how to adopt a cat that I've been taking care of in an apartment that doesn't allow pets and getting stressed out about trying to clean through the clutter that has accumulated in said apartment. I stopped yesterday to pray about it. I especially prayed about this cat (whom today I named Jael). I admit I prayed for God to help me find a way to adopt her, but I also prayed for God to take care of her because she deserves better than being stuck outside all winter. Jael is a large, short-haired black cat who was abandoned around my apartment building and she goes from apartment to apartment on the bottom level. We take care of her, give her food and water, and I've even been letting her sleep in my apartment because it's been getting really cold out. The cold is what had me worried. Winter is not kind, especially for a cat that seems to be okay outside but is definitely amazing around people. She's a great cat, and I've gotten pretty attached to her. So I decided I want to keep her, but I need to find someone to look after her until June when I can move out of the apartment.

Yesterday afternoon I put a message on facebook hoping someone had such a someone in mind. By last night, I had a response from the daughter of my executive presbyter who said she'd be happy to take Jael until June and it would be a good trial run to see what having a pet is like. I am SO EXCITED. Truly an answer to prayer!

Jael spent the night with me last night and we had no heat. It made for an incredibly cold night. This morning I attended a Mayor's Prayer Breakfast in town, and on my way I dropped off my pet rodents at my church office where they could have heat and not be around when my landlord comes to check on the furnace (of course, leaving the church I managed to fall down a flight of four stairs and twist my ankle, and this was 6 a.m., so you can imagine what my mood was like after not having heat and now I've fallen down a flight of stairs).

"Dear God," I said, "please give me patience and strength to make this through this morning. Help me to praise you even when I'm super cranky." I might have added an expletive accidentally. When I got home, I had to call my landlord about the heat. Not only was my landlord IN THE BUILDING when I called, but he was there WITH A MAINTENANCE GUY. I had heat by 10 a.m.

It was one of those moments where I just felt humbled. Leave it to God to interrupt a bad day with something amazing. In my case, it was amazing timing. Not only was I super relieved that the gerbils and guinea pig were already out of the apartment since my landlord was coming right over, but my landlord was literally a flight of stairs away from me. God has this amazing ability to know what we need and take care of us, and I think I'm going to add a line to my prayers asking God to help me remember that God takes care of what we need.

I feel really blessed today, and I don't say that to brag. Or maybe I am. I'm bragging about God. God is so awesome and so amazing and so good to us, even on those days where we have to get up at 5 a.m. after 3 hours of sleep in a caccoon because we're so cold. Thank God for God! Makes me think differently about prayer. I still wrestle with prayer and how I pray, but I've been trying to remember to pray about that, too. God is so good to us, and my prayer for you is that you are able to see God in the world around you and may that brighten your day whether your day is filled with stress or joy.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

Off the Map

I apologize for my complete neglect of this blog to those who actually do faithfully follow what I write. I had an experience recently that took me "off the map" figuratively and then "off the map" literally that have made me actually realize how nice it is to get unplugged. Thus, I've been "off the blogging map" as well.

The figurative experience: I recently visited a friend of mine living in Iowa (I was attending a Board of Pensions conference at the seminary in Dubuque) and for those three days, I did not have any internet access. I was able to check email in the church where my friend works, but while I was in the actual 8-hour conference and in my friend's apartment, I was internet-less. And it made me realize (or reminded me, I guess) how NICE it is to just get away from the computer for a while. Since then I've felt much less tied to the computer and my tv. On Sundays, I give myself a "technology sabbath" which includes turning off the television and the computer for the entire day unless it is absolutely necessary for work. I've been reading, doing sudoku puzzles, sitting outside, and catching up on some quilting. It's been NICE to be unplugged.

The literal experience: This week I attended a new pastor's retreat that my local synod sponsors and we were at a camp grounds with, again, no technology. My cell phone worked, but I was without computer and television for three days. Instead of trying to figure out how I might check my email, I decided to use my free time on Tuesday afternoon to go for a walk. I teamed up with another pastor at the retreat and together we explored the grounds of the camp. We stopped first at the welcome center to get a map, and we picked a destination. We ended up walking in circles several times before we finally decided the only way to really get to our destination (a place called David's Tower) was to ignore the map and just follow the treeline. It wasn't really a great map to begin with, and even when we got to the tower we were still not really at the tower but rather at the base of another big hill with a sign saying "David's Tower." It took us a few minutes to figure out that we could juuuuuust make out the outline of the tower up on top of the big hill, but we elected to forgo climbing yet another hill as we had already been wandering around for over an hour.

And the hill leading back into the camp was monstrous. My thighs are still sore. It's a good kind of sore, you know? The kind where you're like, "It hurts, but the hurt means I did something productive with my body rather than just laying around."

Sometimes we get off the map and it's a good thing. It's good to get off the map and take a technology sabbath as a way to remind ourselves that the world around us isn't totally plugged in. We're incredibly reliant (myself included) on our technology, for better or worse. And when our computers crash or our phones fall out of the hoodie pockets into the toilet and suffer irreversible water damage, it's almost like our world is coming to an end for just that brief moment in time. Getting unplugged once in a while, taking that technology sabbath, reminds us that just because we're in the digital age doesn't mean we have to spend every single nanosecond of the day being digital. Write a card, for goodness sake, instead of an email.

Or actually write in a journal instead of an online blog. Yes, I see the irony here.

Sometimes we get off the map and it's not a good thing. When my fellow pastor and I were wandering around off the map looking for this tower, we didn't have much chance of being lost. The camp is not so big that we couldn't eventually run into the property line by the fence or the river or the highway. We were going to find a border that would tell us at least we were on the camp.

Plus he had a satalite on his phone that could get us back to our lodge if we needed it.

God creates a map for our lives and there are times when following the map is hard. Sometimes (some of us more often than others, perhaps) we think we have a better way of going. I'm one of those people who plugs in my GPS and actually tells the GPS, "No, I'm not going you're way. I'm going this way. You'll just have to reprogram and still get me there safely." God's map doesn't work like a GPS. When we try to reprogram it on our own, we get into trouble. When we allow the Spirit to move us and direct us to where God is calling us to go, it makes our lives so much simpler.

I know, I know you're cringing. It's hard to trust the spirit and those of you who really know me are thinking, "You're one to talk!" because I have the hardest time letting God do the driving in my life. I'm a control freak; I admit that freely. But I also know that those times when I am able to pray about it and spend some time doing spiritual discernment and hand things over to God...life really is much more simple.

And I like simple.

It's good to stay on the map. Sometimes we get off the trail and need a little help navigating our way back to the path that God calls us to, but for the most part, it's good to stay on the map. God gets us where we need to go when we trust in Him that made us. God is so good and we have been blessed in so many ways. My prayer for you is that you are able to spend some time praying and discerning where God is calling you and my second prayer is that you are able to go where God sends you.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

Stick to the Code

So what do I do at 3:30 in the morning when my nose is so stuffy that it's got me wide awake?
I update my blog, apparently.

As I was laying here thinking how annoying allergies are, I was thinking about a new members class that I taught last night. We got into a discussion about church government and someone asked the question, "Why do we have a higher government if the individual church is able to make up its own rules?" That's not precisely verbatim, but that's the gist of what he was asking. I'm not sure how clearly I answered his question beyond saying that our task as a church is to interpret how our Presbyterian polity informs our decisions, always rooted both in scripture and in Jesus Christ. Sometimes that does mean we do things differently from other churches, but our Book of Order gives us a framework as a church. Almost like boundaries.

After the meeting, and in the recent wee hours of the morning, I've been thinking more about my response and what it truly means for us as a church to have "higher government" (If you are not aware how the PCUSA government works, there are levels over goverment much like the national government. Church sessions are subject to Presbyteries, who are subject to synods, who are subject to the General Assembly). Having levels of government means that decisions are not made in a vaccuum; the session, for example, keeps detailed meeting minutes and submits them for approval to the regional presbyteries every year. The presbytery signs off on those minutes or points out places where the church might have "strayed" from our polity. If there is a discrepency, we hope that it's an easy fix. Otherwise, the church is subject to the rules of discipline as found in the Book of Order if the discrepency is severe enough and unable to be remedied.

Likewise, presbytery proceedings are subject to the approval of the synod. One presbytery operates differently from another presbytery, but both presbyteries' interpretation of polity are subject to approval by the synod, who is subject to approval of the General Assembly. In this way, there is a system of checks and balances that help us do things "decently and in order."

Churches will usually interpret the rules as they apply to their individual situations. Ours is a polity that allows us to make those choices. Like the pirate code in Disney's, "Pirates of the Caribbean," our polity is a "guideline" open to interpretation. Now you might ask why have a code if it's is just subject to interpretation. We might, in fact, ask the same thing about scripture. After all, with all the translations out there isn't scripture always left us up to interpretation, too? And don't people interpret scripture to fit their own agenda?

Sometimes.

Despite the challenges facing the unity of the church, our polity is a way to maintain unity. While our interpretations of the Book of Order may occassionally differ from our brothers and sisters within the denomination, we are all essentially rooted in the same thing: Christ. Jesus Christ is the head of the church, giving the church her future, her hope, her authority, and her very life. Jesus Christ is (or ought to be) the center of all that we do and how we interpret our polity should be in line with how we believe Christ is calling us as a church. What I really appreciate about being Presbyterian is this sense that no decisions are made without a proper checks and balance system. Sometimes we make fun at the phrase "decently and in order" and it's earned us nicknames like "the frozen chosen." In reality, though, decently and in order means that decisions are group efforts, always subject to the rule of Jesus Christ.

As hard as it sometimes is to sit through Presbytery meetings and as frustrating as I've been at the General Assembly, it is all there for a specific purpose; that purpose allows us to work towards maintaining our unity even in those times when we disagree.

God is so good and God has done such great things within the church. I know in my heart that the church has the potential to live up to the standards that God sets for her and it is my hope and prayer that we continue to strive towards remaining unified in Jesus Christ despite those things -- and God knows there are plenty of things -- that might otherwise tear us apart.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

Reflections

I turned 16 in April 2001. In September 2001, I started my junior year of high school. I was sitting in creative writing class when a plane struck the first tower. I was in marine biology, fourth period, when the principal came on the intercom to tell us exactly what was going on. And even at that point, we didn't know much.

I've been hearing so many stories this week. It's hard no to hear them; every time you turn on the TV, the news is covering a different angle of 9/11. Some news programs even had former anchors as guest speakers on the news to talk about what it was like covering the news that day. I for one am actually grateful I was still in high school and not yet even interested in being a reporter (I was a reporter fresh out of college before I started seminary). I'm not sure I would have the stamina reporters needed that week to cover the news. Now, ten years later, it seems in some ways we are reliving the horrors of that day. The stories reopen old wounds and shed light on wounds that never closed to begin with. We mourned that day and in many ways, we are still mourning today as we reflect on where we've been and how far we've come since that day.

I think we've learned a number of things since that day. Even through recession, questionable politics, and fear of the vast unknown future, we've come a long way as a nation. And I'm not just talking about learning to have tighter security at air ports. I'm talking about how we've learned to come together as one people. My hope and prayer going into a new election season is that we remember what it is to be ONE PEOPLE, regardless of creed or lack of creed and regardless of all those other hot-button issues that separate us. Whenever the political nature of our nation threatens to tear us asunder, my hope and prayer is that we as ONE PEOPLE are able to tap into that sense of unity and the strength of the bond we all shared that day. I believe people are inherently good and I believe people have the capacity to be good even if there is darkness is our nature.

But above all, I hope we celebrate with purpose. And when I say celebrate with purpose, I mean I hope we are honest about what we're rejoicing in today. I've seen too many Facebooks today thanking God that Osama Bin Laden "finally got what was coming to him" and condemning him to burn in Hell. In my blog entry today, I want to be very clear about what I believe regarding these thoughts.

My disclaimer: These are my opinions. I base my opinions on how I've come to experience God in the world. I'm not speaking on behalf of the church or on the behalf of Christianity.

I preached a sermon today called, "Rejoicing in God" and I took great care to talk about 9/11 without actually talking about 9/11. The gist of my sermon was this: We do not rejoice in death; we rejoice in God. I do not celebrate that death came to people that cause terror and inflicted great pain. I rejoice in the fact that in the midst of it all, God remained faithful to God's people. God continued to act on our behalf by carrying us through and keeping us unified. As I remember 9/11 today, I'm celebrating the very fact that God acts. God always acts, and God will always act.

So I say to you today: do not rejoice in death. Do not rejoice that people "got what was coming to them" because they committed acts of terrorism against our country. Celebrate that despite those acts of terrorism, our spirit as the American people stayed strong. Regardless of the state of the American political system and the murky state of the American economy, we continue to be ONE PEOPLE. ONE NATION under God INDIVISIBLE. Let us never forget that word "indivisible."

Praise God for being a God who stays with us and acts through us and let it be our prayer as Christians to stand with our brothers and sisters of every time and place and may God help us to love, accept, and protect one another as we practice mutual forbearance.

To God -- and to God alone -- be the glory.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

A Constant Reminder

According to a news article on http://www.nj.com/, the last time a hurricane actually made landfall in New Jersey was in 1944 -- and at that point, the naming system for storms wasn't even in place. It's obviously well before my time. It's something well even before my parent's time. As I've watched the news and followed Hurricane Irene, I'm reminded of just how powerful Mother Nature can be.

Many are without power, and many will come home after being evacuated to find a plethora of damage on their property. What I'm grateful, for, is how far we've come in terms of learning how to be prepared for storms.

Former Fox news talkshow host and radio personality Glen Beck called the storm Irene a blessing. He said: "If you’ve waited, this hurricane is a blessing. It is a blessing. It is God reminding you – as was the earthquake last week – it’s God reminding you you’re not in control. Things can happen. Be prepared and be someone who can help others so when disaster strikes, God forbid, you’re not panicking."

When I first read what Beck said, I was immediately thrown back to when Pat Robertson said the earthquake in Haiti was God's way of bringing judgment to that people. And at first, I was sort of angry. I was thinking of all the people on the East Coast being evacuated from their homes and thinking, "Geeze, Beck, go see the Wizard and get a heart, would ya?" (Queen of Insults, I know). Then I thought about it some more and I realized I actually partially agree with Beck. But not entirely.

I don't see Hurricane Irene as a "blessing from God." I see her as a reminder that God is in control, yes, and I see her as a reminder that weather is not always 100% predictable and we ought to mirror our preparation as the ants and not as the grasshopper. Irene is not a blessing; but blessing can come out of her. I think that's an incredibly important distinction. I agree with Beck insofaras hopefully these natural diasters remind us to be prepared so we're ready when -- I doubt anymore it's 'if' -- disaster comes.

Blessing can come through something as frightening and devastating as a natural disaster. Hopefully it reminds us how grateful we ought to be for our loved ones and and how temporary the material stuff on this earth is. Anything man-made can, inevitably, be destroyed. Even the things deemed "indestructible" have a weakness at the end of days. But God's creation manages to get through it all and God gives us the strength we need to carry on. Hopefully the blessing through the storm is that we do learn how to be prepared for disasters because I know this is the first time in my memory at least -- and I'm 26 years old -- that the East Coast that far north has had to really think about disaster preparation. Hopefully we keep learning and keep getting better about facing natural disasters with faith instead of just fear (not saying the fear won't be there, but I'm hopeful it's accompanied by prayer and faith).

At any rate, I'm still watching Irene. As of this morning, she was leaning into New York. So many places are underwater, and I'm still praying for my family in New Jersey because even when the storm passes, the residual effects -- power outages, floods, etc. -- will still be there. Here's hoping we've learned a thing or two since Katrina and are better prepared in the days of clean up ahead.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

Redeeming Facebook's Name

http://www.cnn.com/2011/OPINION/08/17/rushkoff.flash.mobs/index.html?hpt=hp_c1

I've said it before: I'm not really a fan of social media. I use social media like Facebook because I can keep in touch with people this way. But I also think social media, while it makes the world smaller and keeping in touch easier, has done a great deal to add to the array of things compromising our ability to function face to face in the world.

I mean, seriously: You can even order a pizza online these days.

I've been reading and watching the new regarding the question of whether or not government should have more ability to regulate social media. Is social media promoting anararchy?

Probably not. Anarchy is perhaps too strong a word. Maybe it's promoting the idea that it's easy to put groups together for a common experience. Whether that experience is positive or negative is an end which is determined by the action of the users. I don't believe social media is flawed; I believe humanity is flawed. And granted positivity and negativity are adjectives that become interchangeable depending on which side of the line you're standing. People using social media to get together to form a mob would probably say their reasons are legit. Some parts of society would agree. The victims and parts of society at large would disagree.

At this point, I'm not interested in trying to determine whether or not right and wrong really matter. The fact that some will say that an event is positive while another group describes the same event as negative is really neither here nor there; it's just the way it is. I'm not even really interested in whether or not we can play the blame game where some say, "I blame parents" others say, "I blame social media" and others say, "If you're going to blame anyone, blame the government."

Here's what I say: at some point, whose fault it is ceases to be important. Whether you think social media is evil, necessary or otherwise, the fact is that it's there and it's up to us to decide how we use it. As churches, we strive to use social media to promote our churches and stay in touch with our congregation. As people, we use social media for largely the same purpose. It's good to stay in touch and it's good to have a means to invite a large number of people to your birthday party at the same time. I used my Facebook account to invite all of my friends to attend my ordination and not only did it save me money on invitations, but it reached a group of people I don't even actually have addresses for. A lot of people came to my ordination because they heard about it through Facebook.

In the interest of putting my cards on the table, I think the government regulating social media is dangerous because in the world where privacy and terrorism co-exist (to some degree), it's hard to know where to draw the line. I take security seriously, but I also take my privacy seriously.

Then again, we might ask, "Well, if you're putting it on the internet, you're not really concerned about privacy, are you?"

Yes, actually, I am. I put stuff out there for a specific group of people. Not government officials trying to check if I'm into something that the government might classify as treasonous (I'm not, by the way, in case you were wondering).

Alas, I digress.

You use a peeler or a knife to peel an apple. You wouldn't use a hammer to peel an apple. Social media is a tool, and like any other tool, it's up to people who use it to deterine how it's used. I hope that when people ask why social media is letting people find new ways to run rampant in the streets, we respond by figuring out what programs are missing to help nurture the young people that make decisions to do something violent. As a church, what can we do to offer programs that help nurture young people (because that seems to be the demographic of the people not only using social media, but also the demographic of people engaging in the violence) so that they have a positive outlet to plug their energy into? Move beyond the question of funding, and let's start figuring out better ways to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination, and love.

Wishing You Peace,
Pastor Becki

Trust vs. Faith

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1ILPl5FQaM

Trust is hard.
Just ask Mowgi.

In preparation for my sermon this week, I've been spending some time this week thinking about the relationship between faith and trust. It's hard to have trust if you don't have faith. Likewise, I don't think you can have faith unless you first have a sense of trust. If we trust in someone, we have faith in him. If we have faith in someone, we trust them. Seems like the words are interchangeable.

Mostly.

But not entirely.

Take Luke 16, for example. A business owner tells his accountant that he's bad at his job and going to lose said job. The accountant works out a plan to get himself on people "Good Guy" list by cutting their debt that they owe the master. The idea is that when the master gets him out of the job, the accountant will have made friends. In other words, he figures out a way to "take care of himself" in a way that the business owner actually praises him.

And then Luke says this: ¹⁰ “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. ¹¹ So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? ¹² And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?"

Trust is a process. Trust is something you earn. Trust is something you work up to. Trust is something easily broken.

Faith, to me, involves a process, but the kind of faith that Christ talks about isn't a process in and of itself. Faith is, according to Hebrews, confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not see. Faith doesn't need to prove itself. Faith is what we have inherently. It takes cultivation to deepen our faith (I like the word deepen rather than strengthen, by the way), but God doesn't earn our faith and we don't earn God's faith. We trust in God because we have faith in who God is; we don't have faith in God because we trust Him.

Trust is hard. Most of us can point to experiences in our lives that have involved a burning of some sort. I have several that come to the top of my head almost immediately. Trust is tough. And once trust between two people has been broken, it's often very difficult to rebuild that trust. Trust is a process.

Faith isn't really easier, even though it's inherent. I remember people telling me that faith makes things possible, not easy. I have those times when this seems silly: why can't faith make things easy, too? Why stop at simply possible?

To quote Tom Hanks in "League of their Own": "It's supposed to be hard. If it was easy, everyone could do it."

I think God wants everyone to have faith. I think God wants everyone to be able to, without reservation, put our hope and trust in our Creator. God says in Ezekiel 18, "Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign LORD. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?" So why is it so hard to have faith? Why is it so hard to have trust? Why, when we step out of the boat and onto the water, do we take a few steps and then sink? (Matthew 14).

Simply put: we sink because we're human. Seriously. I'm not just being coy. We sink because we're human. We sink because we have doubts. We sink because even those with what we might call the "deepest" faith struggle with their identities in God. The important part, though, is that we keep getting out of the boat. My favorite part of the story of Peter walking on the water in the storm with Christ is that at least Peter got out of the boat. What about those other disciples watching who just sat in the boat? What do you think they were thinking when they saw Peter take those steps? Do you think they even noticed, or were they so focused on the fact that the storm was battering their boat so badly that they were in danger of sinking?

Jesus rebukes Peter for not having enough faith to stay on the waves, but I don't think Jesus means it in anger or in disappointment. I think he means it to be a teaching moment. Our faith is what gives us the ability to walk on the water. Our fear -- our human nature -- is what makes us sink.

I've been listening to a lot of music by the band "Brand New" this week, and I discovered from their album, "God and the Devil Raging Inside of Me" the song "Jesus Christ." The song is, for lack of a better word, a prayer. At one point in the song, the singer says, "At the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands" and another line that I like is, "I'm scared that I'll get scared and I swear I'll try and nail you back up." We all doubt. We all have reservations, even when we think our faith is deeper than it's ever been. It's okay to be honest with ourselves (and with God) that we've had thoughts of turning and running instead of trust in God. I think God expects that. I think God understands that. I also think that God waits for us with his open arms, waiting to welcome back all of us prodigals into His embrace.

Faith and trust are hard. Trust is something we earn and learn to do. Faith is something we already have that we learn to acknowledge and see God working through. One is a process itself. The other calls for a process.

Getting out of the boat isn't easy. It's scary. Maybe even terrifying. But you get out of the boat to get on the water because it's on the water that we encounter Jesus. And Jesus waits for us on those waves in the midst of the storm. We can take those steps; we can walk on the water with Jesus, but only if we get out of the boat first. My hope and prayer for you this week is that you are able to discern how God is calling you through the storms in your lives, whatever your storm might be. I hope you are able to trust God, recognizing that faith makes trust possible.

Not easy. Possible.

Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki

PS: incidentally, if you're looking for a great read on Matthew 14, I recommend John Ortbergs, "If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat." It's a great book for an adult study and an easy read on how we identify what our boat is and how we learn to step out of it to the water where Jesus is.

Speaking Christian

Some thoughts after reading CNN's belief blog: http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2011/07/31/do-you-speak-christian/

First, my disclaimer: I do occassionally drift through CNN's belief blog to read what other people are saying about religion. What I've learned not to do is read the comments because this blog has become a breeding ground for angry athiests. The belief blog is not a good forum for actual intelligent religiously-themed conversation. So I'm not advocating this blog: I'm merely presenting some of my thoughts on the issue of "speaking Christian."

It's an interesting point: that people who use "Christian terms" like rapture, born again, saved, salvation, justified, redeemed, etc. may not actually understand what they're saying. And I like the phrase at the end, "spiritual snobbery."

But the article got me thinking. Do I speak Christian?

I hope not. I know that probably sounds weird, coming from a pastor, but I hope you'll understand why I say "I hope not" by the time you're done reading this blog entry. So stay with me :)

A pastor friend and mentor of mine talked about the question of being saved once. He was being examined by his Presbytery pending his ordination and they asked him if he was saved and he said he didn't know. His point was that God knows and we don't, and this is true for good reason. We're not supposed to know if we're saved. If we have to worry about it, we're missing God's promise in election (a theological topic for another blog at another time). I've never said to anyone that I'm saved. At least I don't think I have. I'm pretty sure I haven't. I do remember being on a bus once and overhearing a conversation between two men in which one asked the other, "Are you saved?"

And I remember being uncomfortable. I don't remember how the other guy answered, but I remember the question. And I remember people asking me at one point or another, "Are you saved?" My answer is, "Jesus died for me because He loves me" because quite frankly, that's what really matters to me. Whether I'm saved or not is Jesus' business.

I try not to "speak Christian" for various reasons. One, I think it makes people uncomfortable. I do have a lot of non-Christian friends and once and a while I hear things like, "It's so cool that your a pastor." To some of my friends, I'm a novelty, which is weird to say, but I really am the closest they've ever come to interacting with a pastor. I try to speak the same to everyone. Obviously I talk to my congregation a little bit different from how I talk to my friends. But for the most part (and my friends and people in my congregation can attest to this), I try to speak in the same voice whether I'm at a church potluck or a Fourth of July party with my best friends.

Two, I don't see the real point to speaking Christian. My hope is that actions speak louder than words. My hope is that people see the way I live my life and how my interpersonal relations function and are able to see God working through me. Too often, language gets in the way of the Good News of the Gospel.

At the risk of ruffling feathers, the truth is that I actually flinch inside when someone talks about "when they were saved." I don't believe there is a moment where someone is actually saved. I believe the moment a person was saved was when Jesus died and was resurrected from the dead all because of how much He loves us. The moment people are talking about when they talk about being saved is the moment they first felt Christ really come alive in their own lives. It's not really being saved; it's being awakened. It's being renewed. I believe there is a difference.

What really stood out to me in the Belief Blog was this idea of using a "Christian vocabulary" and not knowing (or forgetting) what the words really mean. What does it mean to be justified? What does it mean to be saved or baptized or in communion with Christ and each other? What does any of it really mean? Religion is easy; theology is hard. I'm a pastor and there are still some theological terms that I'm not super comfortable with, and I think that's par for the course. If we pastors understood all of the theological terms we come across, there would be no room for learning. There always has to be room for learning. That's how we continue to stay real about our faith and how we believe.

We talk a lot about how we talk about our faith in contemporary times. How open should we be around our faith? I think the blog is right when it states that we are bilingual; we speak "social human being" and "religious human being." How can we marry the two so that our life outside of the church is not separated from our life inside of the church? How can we talk about our faith in a way that is accessible not just to the listeners, but to us as well?

A good place to start is with a self-assessment. What do you believe? If it helps, find out if your denomination has creeds or basic statements of faith. If you're Presbyterian, check out our Book of Confessions. That's a great place to go to find out what we believe and to what theology we subscribe. It might even help to write your own statement of faith. Put into words exactly what you believe.

Now think about what you've written (or read). What stands out to you? What aspects of that are more difficult than others? Are there things there that seem easy? Confusing? What words sound overly religious to you?

Read scripture and really think about your own theology. Is your theology rooted in scripture? Theology, by definition, ought to be rooted in scripture.

If we're going to talk about our faith, we have to be able to talk about why we believe certain things. We can't just say "It's in the Bible" or "because that's in the creed we say every Sunday." There has to be an aspect of it that you own.

I believe that God has a plan for me because scripture has a long history of people God taught to make lemonade from lemons. I believe that God has a plan for me because Christ died for me on the cross because he loves me, and why would he do that if he didn't have something awesome in mind for me? I believe that God has a plan for me because as a descendant of Abraham, I am a part of that covenant promise to be blessed to be a blessing others.

Speaking Christian becomes a dangerous thing when we use it to push theology that is not rooted in anything. Learning about our faith and learning why we believe in certain things is how we root our theology. Theology is hard; it doesn't have to be impossible.

I encourage you to write your own statement of faith and really get in touch with what you believe. Do your homework and root your beliefs in scripture. Talk to your pastor or seminary professors or other people in your church about certain concepts that you might be stuck on. Get away from "speaking Christian" and this concept of being "bilingual" and instead, focus on what it means to speak from your heart no matter what you're saying.

Wishing you peace,
Pastor Becki