Dear Mr. President - Christmas 2018

Christmas 2018

Dear Mr. President,

It is the day after Christmas 2018. It sounds like you were somewhat lonely this holiday. I guess when you shut down the government right before a big day like Christmas, you have to stay in town instead of going off to play golf. Pity.

Yes, I pity you. You must be the loneliest man in the world, besides your two buddies – Kim and Vlad. Men who play the risky games you play don’t have friends. Staff and family members play your demanding game of flattery and obeisance. You isolate and are isolated.

As for our once-was-great-now-not-so-much country, you have wreaked one devastation upon another due to your revenge on Barack Obama, a President who brought greatness to the next level.

You make ridiculous promises you cannot keep. A promise is just air to you. No substance.

You have enraged our allies and friends. You have given secrets away to our enemies.

We’ve discovered (already knew) Russia elected you. Fake election. Fake President.

You have done all you can to destroy the environment.

You have tried to snatch reproductive rights, human rights, and healthcare from the people of our country.

You have the blood of dead children on your hands. Children held at our southern border. Those stains cannot be removed, no matter how many times you scrub.

You are a fool who listens to fools. You make policy based on crazy-talk by people of no morals and skeletal characters.   

But enough about you.

On Christmas Eve, my family and I worshiped. We heard the Christmas story. We sang Carols. I preached a sermon using white and black cloths. I won’t go into it here. We lit candles, and in the darkness of our sanctuary, we each held a flickering light as we sang Silent Night, Holy Night to the gentle music of a guitar.

And it was holy. And for a moment we had the opportunity to be at the coarse, dirty manger which held a helpless babe. The one who came to this earth to save us all.

It was a poignant reminder that we have someone more powerful than any earthly leader who has decided we are creatures worth saving. Even in the midst of our messes, unbelief, anger, fear, and pain, we still have hope.

We have a tiny flicker of light that won’t be overcome by darkness.

Our hope will outlast your hate.

Our hope will outlast your revenge.

Our hope will make the change you can’t begin grasp.

Our hope will make known your secrets and darkness deeds.

For light exposes everything that lives in darkness. That’s the purpose of light.

When many people each held a tiny light, a sanctuary glowed with warmth. 

I believe you will be gone from power soon, as well as those of your ilk. All the cowards and takers. All those who towed a party-line and tossed the most vulnerable of our society overboard. You will all unravel, as evil does. Sadly, you will leave chaos in your wake.

Humankind was created free. We each have choices we can make, for good or ill. We can reject God altogether, but he never rejects us. Some people don’t believe that either. Pity.

I pity those like you who live and work in darkness.

Light overcomes darkness. We will overcome. We will clean up your mess. We will shine with justice and righteousness and goodness.

Christmas Eve is a beautiful evening and makes us feel warm and cozy inside.

In reality, it was a night when a cosmic and violent revolution began.

God decided to risk everything one holy night to redeem all that was wrong with creation. I wouldn’t bet against him. God keeps promises.

A dear friend of mine wrote me a sonnet this past year. In it he gave me a name: Relentless Dove. It’s the most powerful and moving name I have ever received. My husband had our talented wood-working neighbor put this lovely name on amber wood with a dove in the center. My husband gave it to me privately yesterday morning and I cried at the beauty of it. I don’t feel I deserve such a name or work of art. It is hanging next to my desk. I will see it every day over and over and over again.  

In closing, here’s to 2019. After two years of your petulance and tantrums and destruction, we will carry the light into a better year. We will wait you out. And when you’re gone, there will be rejoicing and celebration, but also much work to do. The work of love, compassion and reparation.

With absolute sincerity,

Relentless Dove

Wait with Hope - Becky's Story

First Sunday of Advent

“Wait with Hope – Becky’s Story”

I think we’ve all heard the saying, “Hope is not a strategy.”

But what is left when we do not know which direction to go? For a lot of things in life we can “plan the work, then work the plan.” (That’s one of my husband’s favorite sayings.)

How do we plan the work of the end times? It’s not our work to do, and to be honest we couldn’t do it anyway. It’s God’s plan. It’s God’s work.

We just make the tea.

Our passages today come as promises from the prophet Jeremiah and Jesus.

Jeremiah, imprisoned at the time, is speaking to the Israelites who are watching and waiting for a Messiah. The prophet tells the people that God will keep all the promises made to the houses of Israel and Judah. They will return from captivity in Babylon and a “righteous Branch” will spring up for David. And there will be safety and salvation.

While Jeremiah is promising light in the darkness, Jesus is promising a time of darkness before the light of his power and glory in his second coming.

In advent, we wait for the second coming of Christ.

Every generation has had prophets and speakers of doom. Every generation has seen nation rise against nation. Distress and the roaring of the seas have brought fear and foreboding to the people of earth.

We live in that today.

It is not worth preaching advent if we pretend we are not living in scary times. There is ugliness assaulting us every day. The worst of humanity doing the worst to humanity. (I’m not being political this week, but you can read my thoughts!)

It is out of our control. We can not plan the work, then work the plan because so much of what happens leaves us in despair. We grasp but we cannot hold.

If I asked you a time in your life when you had to wait for something, good or bad, I know we could fill a book with the stories in this sanctuary today.

For me, there is one powerful story when our family was in darkness waiting for the light.

Doug and I have a blended, extended family. He brought two adult children and I brought four not-quite-adults into our marriage. We were not the Brady Bunch.

But last year, 2017, our family came together around my stepdaughter, Becky.

Becky’s story…

Becky’s wedding. After going through a divorce, Becky found a brand, new, true love when she met John. A perfect match. They were married in January of 2017. They created their own blended, extended family. Becky has two children and John has three. It was a wonderful wedding and a truly joyous occasion.

One month after the wedding, Becky was diagnosed with breast cancer. The glow of the wedding dimmed. This was not right. This was not fair. We were all shocked and scared.

Becky had surgery and needed time to heal from that before beginning chemotherapy. 

We watched and waited and waited some more. It was a helpless kind of waiting. There was no plan. No work. Except for everything Becky had to go through. None of us could take her disease from her, it was hers alone.  

Treatments began. Becky began her chemotherapy and every Thursday she and John went in together. John was Becky’s supporter and protector. A chivalrous man if there ever was one.

Doug and I felt more of helplessness that comes with watching a child suffer. We tried to figure out what to do to let Becky know we were praying for her. We wanted her to know how much we loved her.

We fully understood that it was not Becky’s responsibility to relieve our fears and anxieties about her cancer. She didn’t need more phone calls asking her how she felt. She didn’t need uninvited visits from people who just wanted to look at her. She didn’t need more food brought to her front door.

So, we decided to send a white rose every Thursday to be delivered when she returned from chemo. Every Thursday chemotherapy, a rose, and a word.

Words:

Perseverance

Peace

Strength

Expectation

Confidence

Courage

Steadfast faith

Assurance

Optimism

Anticipation

Hallelujah! The Final Rose!

Every Wednesday I ordered the rose for Thursday. After the first two or three orders for a single white rose and a word, the young woman at the florist asked me who I was ordering them for. Who was “Becky?”

I told her about Becky and how we hoped a rose and a word would cheer and comfort her after her treatments. She was very sympathetic and then shared with me that her mother had just completed chemotherapy for breast cancer. She told me some of the things Becky might want to be aware of as her chemo progressed. She was very compassionate.

Within a couple of days, I received an email from the young woman at the florist. She had told her boss about Becky. About the cancer, the chemo, and the single white rose being delivered every Thursday. Her boss was moved and said that on Becky’s last day of chemo, the flower shop would send one dozen white roses to Becky as a gift and a celebration for finishing the twelve weeks of chemo.

Doug and I were moved beyond words. We were witnessing HOPE being shared by strangers. We were witnessing HOPE that could be spread with care and generosity.

 One dozen white roses on the last day of chemo.

The very first rose we sent to Becky was the white rose of HOPE.

Pain and despair and illness and world affairs have the power to numb us to the good news of Jesus Christ. But we will not let ourselves be numbed by the creeping darkness.

We feel pain and fear and joy because we pay attention. We watch and listen and cry and rejoice. When we pay attention to our world, we pay attention to God’s activity in the world. When we pay attention, we know how to be more generous, more forgiving, more loving, more aware of the needs of those around us.

Becky has been cancer free for over a year. Our blended, extended family continues to rejoice. And this includes the people at the florist, who somehow became part of this whole light-shining-through-the-darkness story. A young woman who paid attention and asked a question. “Who is Becky?”

I say again, Becky’s husband, John, was and is a tower of compassion, strength, humor and support. John and Becky are a dynamic couple. Their love is fun to watch.

Maybe… hope is a strategy. Because our hope is so intricately entwined with our faith. We believe in a God who keeps promises. We are alert, with our heads held high. We pay attention to the signs, not just the signs of our time, but the signs of our lives. It’s the way we know spring will come again when we see the first tiny flower poking up from the snow. Hope is the strategy, and faith is the work.

We have hope knowing the God of creation is also the God of salvation. No evil or ugliness on this earth, or in any person, can dim the light of righteousness.

Jeremiah talks about a “branch of righteousness.” That was the hope he gave to the Israelites.

But I think more of hope in this way, “Low how a rose e’er blooming, from tender stem hath sprung.”

Because I believe hope comes from a tender and tentative place. To hope takes gentle courage. To hope means seeing light where there may not be light. Yet.

We will wait in this advent season, not just with hope. But expectant hope. We will see the light that shines through the thickest darkness. We will watch with our heads high and our hearts open.

For the true rose of hope.

Amen.

Not from Here

Because I don’t draw a line between my religion and politics…

Christ the King Sunday

“Not from Here”

John 18:33-37

No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love. For love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.

Nelson Mandela

With our current political climate, you may ask why the title of this sermon isn’t, “Testify to the Truth” Instead of “Not from Here.” I recently read someone’s concern that our country is being desensitized by the lies our President tells on a daily basis. A fear that we are worn down or worn out by the barrage of falsehoods and fantastical fiction that emanate from a man who fears the truth which is chasing after him each and every second. Truth that will catch him in the end.

“The truth shall set you free,” Jesus said. The truth will set us free. Truth will set our country free.

In our Gospel today, Jesus is on trial. He has done nothing wrong except bring truth and hope and redemption to a very broken world. The Jewish leaders are threatened. They are afraid of the one who says their laws and their ways of conducting life and law are done. There is a new King in town. The Messiah they won’t accept.

I don’t have a problem with the language of “king.” Some people don’t like the male language. Obviously, all the kings we have ever known are males. There have been good human kings and disastrous human kings. It would be foolish to compare Jesus Christ to an earthly king. He is the perfect King from the halls of heaven. We can’t begin to comprehend what this means. We only have imperfect words and images.  

He is the Shepherd King. The forgiving King. The King of the heavens and earth. The Servant King. The King of Glory. The King of ultimate love. The King of salvation.

The King who knows a sheep from a goat.

Jesus is not the Messiah anticipated by the forever watching and waiting Israelites. He is not riding in on his trusty steed to turn the Roman Empire upside down. He is turning the entire way of life upside down. “Blessed are you if you are poor, mourning, hungering for righteousness, meek, persecuted…”

Jesus the King of Kings and Lord of Lords is healing the ones who bleed, who are sightless, who are voiceless, who are hopeless.

Jesus Christ the King of Kings and Lord of Lords speaks the truth to power. Tells those who are cheating the poor out of their pittance that they have to go! Those in the synagogue who wield power over the powerless will soon find themselves out of a job.

Because Jesus Christ is the King of the World, there is no singular group of people he came to save. He came for everyone. He is the King of every nation and every tribe. Every race, color, and religion.

Right now, there is a caravan of people seeking hope in our land that has plenty of room and plenty of promise. At least we used to.

Jesus Christ, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords is walking in the midst of the caravan from Central America. He is walking with the young men who grow weary. He is walking with the mothers who can’t carry their babies another step. He is walking with the old, the infirm, the sick, the fearful, the desperate.

There are those in this country who did not need a feast three days ago. They have more food than necessary but won’t share a bite with the starving. There are those who believe their bank accounts will protect them from everything, even death. Yet, they won’t share a dime with the poor. There are those who spew hatred, lies, threats, violence, and other vileness. They won’t lift a finger to help someone in need.

They certainly cannot claim to know Jesus Christ. They have no clue who he is or what he stands for. Everything they do and say is anti-Christ.

In our Gospel Jesus is on trial. He has done nothing but change the world for good. Pilate is unaware of who he is talking to. He only knows what the Pharisees and leaders have told him. Pilate has to decide whether he should let this innocent man go or keep the Jews from unrest by killing Jesus.

“So, you are a king?” Pilate asks.

“You say that I am a king…but as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”

No, his kingdom is not from here. The kingdom of Jesus Christ is the place where there are no more wars or rumor of wars. Where there is no more suffering. Where there is no hunger or thirst. Where there is no hatred, racism, or bigotry because we are all one race, the human race. The kingdom of Jesus Christ is where love is learned and lived because it “comes more naturally to the human heart.”

How surprised some people might be when they get to heaven and find themselves serving those they have ridiculed, attacked, or derided on this earth.

Because the Kingdom of God is not from here. Not from this place where a man, the leader of our country, is so full of insecurity, small intellect, and zero empathy. A man with a bloated body and an ugly little soul. A man who would have a mother and child killed on the border or a young man beaten, or a baby caged like an animal. A man who doesn’t care if men of color are shot down in the streets of our cities. A man who wants to take away human rights – keeping people from being who they really are. A man intent on destroying climate and creation. Stealing from the poor and sowing hatred. No, these things are not Kingdom Living. These things are the lashings of hell.

When there is a president who is so anti-Jesus Christ, there is only one hope until he is taken away.

We are. We are the hope in the name of Jesus Christ. We are the ones who will teach love to those who have been taught to hate. We are the ones who share the food, the money, the time, the conversation, the love of the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords. We are the ones who follow in his footsteps, we carry his glory and grace to the world, we tell the stories of the Kingdom of the Good Man. Where there is no more pain, or tears, or despair, or prejudice, or bigotry, or cruelty. Our lives must be lived in doing all the good we can until that day when we are welcomed into the Kingdom-not-from-here.

But the Kingdom-not-from-here is actually HERE now. The Kingdom into which we have been saved. He saved us even though he was falsely accused, horribly beaten, and crucified on a cross. A King who rose from the dead.

A King who can tell the difference between a sheep and a goat.

He is the King of Glory. His Kingdom is here. His Kingdom is now. It is where we dwell. Right here. There is much work to do. There are people to feed. People to welcome. People to find homes for. People to protect. There is healing to share and love to teach. There is so much to bring in the name of the King.

Amen.

For Her - For those who have endured sexual abuse

For Her

When I can tell my story without tear or ache,

In prose that ceases my heart to break,

Is it not my road to trod,

To find the one who has lost her God?

I see her beneath the waterfall

Where tears pour down her injured soul.

The tear-stained one is sadly dressed,

I slowly sit by her and rest.

My dear one, do you want to tell

The story of your piece of hell?

For I have all the time it takes

To listen to you as your heart breaks.

We’ll gather each and every piece,

We'll stitch them back, we will not cease.

Forgiveness you do not need to seek,

For nothing wrong did you do or speak.

I see the garment of shame you wear,

It does not fit your frame, my dear.

Whoever said it was your dress,

Told a lie, caused your duress.

We will fling it far from here,

Your brand new dress will hold no fear.

For you will wear your lovely worth,

No guilt, no stain, just your rebirth.

But for now, we will sit awhile,

For I have come this many a mile,

To listen and to wipe your tears,

To help you bid goodbye to fears.

To invite you when your faith returns,

Come near the fire that ever burns.

The fire removes the chill in bones,

Returns light to eyes where it has not shone.

When in worth and dignity you are dressed,

I’ll watch you rise from your sad rest.

And walk the road where you must trod,

To find another who has lost her God.

Planning the Funeral

For those who lost children and other loved ones this week, following the mass shooting in Thousand Oaks, CA. 

Planning the Funeral

Tell me about your daughter.

What?

So that we can remember her well. So, her funeral will do her justice. I’d like to know about her.

How much time do you have?

I have all the time in the world. I do.

She lived eighteen years. I have so many stories. Like the morning she was born, and I first saw her little face through my own tears.

Like your tears today.

No. These tears are nothing like those tears.

I’m sorry. Tell me more.

She won best costume when she was in preschool. She was an angel. I used so much glitter on that costume! Her halo was made of tinsel from the Christmas decorations. I wrapped it around wire and put it on the top of her head. It bobbed back and forth when she laughed.

So sweet. What else?

She played the flute. She was good, too! She practiced every night when she was in high school. But she could only get second chair in the orchestra. She tried so hard. The flute makes a pretty sound. It can be so gentle. Maybe heaven sounds like flutes. I missed hearing her play when she went to college.

Is there a hymn or song you would like to sing or have played at the funeral? Something she would have liked?

We sang Amazing Grace at my father’s funeral. She played her flute for the last verse, no organ, just her flute. You know the verse, “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun…” There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

I’m sure. That’s beautiful hymn. I’ll put it in the service. What else?

I think her brother might like to say something. They were very close. He was protective of his baby sister. He'd do anything for her.

Is there a scripture passage that meant something to her? Maybe a poem?

Let me think.  

She sounds like a wonderful girl. She was obviously very loved.

She was loved. Everyone who met her loved her. You know, she began a fundraiser for a boy in her school who had leukemia. She started it all by herself. All the money went to his hospital bills.

She had a big heart.

Yes. She did. But her heart stopped with the bullet. The gunman stopped her heart. When he shot her. Without a beating heart, you die.

I’m so sorry. This is such a tragedy.

Some people say we need more guns. I say, no more guns. Bullets stop hearts and steal children.

Yes.

Psalm 23.

What?

Psalm 23. I know everyone has that at their funeral. But I need to know she’s with someone who’s taking care of her. I need to know she’s safe. The Shepherd, right? It’s about the Shepherd who leads people and walks with people and protects them. He would be especially careful with children. Right?

Yes.

So, she’s with the Shepherd now.

Yes.

But she was my lamb.

Yes. Yes, she was. Are there other stories?

What? Oh, no. No more stories. 

But I have all the time in the world. I do.

No more stories.

But I would like to remember her well. You want that too, don't you?

I don't want to remember her! I want to know her. I want to see her graduate. I want to dance at her wedding. I want to see her children. I want to watch her twist her hair with her fingers while she talks on the phone. I want to watch her live!

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Anyway...there’s not that much to tell.

Why not?

She was only eighteen. Her life hadn’t even begun. It seems like yesterday when I put the sparkly wings on her back and set the halo on her head. You know, when she was in preschool.

There was glitter everywhere. And as she laughed the halo bobbed back and forth, back and forth. 

The tinsel danced.

It sparkled in the light.

They Walk

They Walk

They walk forward with hope.

They walk away from pain and fear.

Horrors that haunt their dreams – they must escape.

Corrupt governments. Gangs of cruelty. Drug traffickers.

Children are not immune. They have been, and will be, tortured in front of their parents.

Some walk with holes in their hearts, loved ones lost.

Some walk with holes in their shoes. Or no shoes.

Some walk with their own scars.

With plastic bags holding all they own, they walk.

With children on their shoulders, they walk.

Thousands of people walk for thousands of miles. With hope. With relief to be leaving the horror and fear.

They are overwhelmingly Christian. They are Catholic and Protestant.

They are leaving their churches but taking their faith.

They pray to the God I pray to.

They sing the hymns I sing.

They want the safety I take for granted every day.

I wonder how heavy a baby feels in her mother’s arms mile after mile after mile.

They are out of their country and away from their fears. They are away from corruption.

But they are walking to my country and I have great fears for them.

Because we have a cruel fool for a President. We have corruption everywhere. There is not a lot of hope for anyone who is walking here. The President is a maniacal liar and gleefully uses “the least these” for campaign-rally fuel.

His followers walk around in hate-filled ignorance.

Our Secretary of Homeland Security says there are no plans to shoot immigrants. Yet.

The military is on the way to the border. The military. Because moms and dads and children are so threatening.

Children are not immune. They have been, and will be, tortured in front of their parents. We lock babies in cages in my country. We rip them out of their mothers’ arms in my country. We lock children in refugee camps in my country. We separate families in my country. Innocent families.

So, there will be new horrors. New nightmares. New scars.

Who will hear their prayers? Who will wipe their tears? Where will they find safety? Who will help them sing again?

My country is going to have a vote soon. The majority of people in my country want different leadership and a sensible government. We want all people to be treated with honor and respect. We want a government that helps other governments who are troubled so that people don’t need to flee. 

We want a government that cares for “the least of these” here, and everywhere. We want a government that is colorblind, inclusive, supportive, and thoughtful.

I can rampage all I want. But my feet aren’t worn out from walking thousands of miles. My possessions would not fit in a plastic bag. I have an overabundance of “stuff.” I can pray and sing and live without fearing for my life.

Most of all, I can vote.

And I will. 

I will vote for the desperate and hopeful immigrants.

Because they walk.


"We will walk with each other, we will walk side by side. 
We will walk with each other, we will walk side by side.

And we'll guard each one's dignity, and save each one's pride.
And they'll know we are Christians by our love, by our love.
Ant they'll know we are Christians by our love."

Letter to the President. For "the least of these."

Dear Mr. President,

You are not dear to me, I’m just being polite.

It’s a good attempt on your part to try and change the narrative right now, days before the midterm elections.

Instead of paying attention to the mutilation and death of journalist, Jamal Khashoggi, at the hands of the Saudi Crown Prince’s henchmen, you would like us to focus on a group of immigrants who are coming from Central America looking for safety within our borders.

It’s your ridiculous message of hate and fear. But we don’t buy it. We know the people travelling toward our country are mothers, fathers, children, and grandparents. They have seen loved ones be tortured and killed. Perhaps, they have experienced some of that torture themselves.

They are trying to protect their children. Which any of us would do if we lived in a country with brutal leaders who cared nothing for their people. We would flee with babes in arms to give our children a chance at life.

We are not afraid of the people coming here who need safety and who love their families. They are guilty of nothing.

We are not afraid of “The Other” because we believe we are all one in God’s eyes.

We welcome the stranger and the foreigner because that’s what Jesus did over and over and over again.

You said we can’t presume the Saudi Crown Prince to be guilty of Khashoggi’s death before a thorough investigation.

You said we couldn’t presume Brett Kavanaugh to be guilty before he was investigated.

And yet, you have presumed each immigrant walking toward our country to be guilty. GUILTY. You haven’t met one of them. You know nothing about them. Yet, they are all guilty.

That’s why two-year-old’s and five-year-old’s go to court all alone, once you’ve had them ripped away from their parents.

You strangled the investigation of Kavanaugh. We now have an abuser on the Supreme Court.

You’re doing the same thing regarding the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia. Because you are personally making a tidy sum of money from that country and your crooked deals.

You think you are winning. You think you can decide how to fix the game. How to rig the election with your Russian lover, Putin. You can proclaim the innocence of the guilty and the guilt of the innocent.

Your followers are blind. Your followers are unable to think clearly for themselves. I marvel at their inability to see how you have taken this country hostage and how they will inevitably go down with you. I do not wish that for them.

But the majority of us see you for the fool you are. You are unintelligent and thoughtless. You are cruel to the most vulnerable of society. You are a laughing stock and embarrassment to our country and the world.

Jesus Christ blessed the children, restored health to the ill, fed the hungry, sat with the outcasts of society and gave them hope. His love had no limits. His grace had no boundary. His kindness held the oppressors of the downtrodden accountable, and his anger was unleashed on the money changers who stole from the poor. Jesus Christ. The Savior of the World.

“Love kindness, do justice, walk humbly with God.” 

Even your “Christian” supporters spew hateful language and condemn brothers and sisters who are different.   

Your chaos won’t last. Your godlessness will not stand. Your greed will leave you in poverty.

We will not allow hate to run and ruin this country.

Our attention will not be diverted.

You are not almighty, but God is. And as it says on the money you love so much:

“In God We Trust.”

And I certainly do.

Sincerely,

Pastor Barb