Wonderings--February 10

Since yesterday my mind has circled back to that 'the thing I did.' I wrote a letter that served two purposes: support and encouragement. I had the letter proof read before I sent it to his final destination and no changes were made. The content was clear and correctly phrased and formatted. I thought that it was the least that I could do. . . but sometimes that 'least that we can do' becomes more. 

Several hours later I received some feedback from the letter that I sent. I honestly had no expectations for a response as the letter was not written to garner one. I wanted to make sure that I was available should I be needed and sought. But a response happened that supported my first conclusion. 

I received a look. An ever-so light tear. And then it was gone. I have been thinking about that moment since it happened which leads me to today's thought and led me to believe that any tiny gesture that we do to support another person will be used by God for great things. 

In 2013, author George Saunder delivered the commencement address at Syracuse University. In that address he offered these words to the students as they prepared to face their lives outside of the classroom. He said: 

"So here's something I know to be true, although it's a little corny, and I don't quite know what to do with it: What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness. Those moments when another human being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded. . . sensibly. Reservedly. Mildly."

Stepping out and being present in the life of another person is a courageous act. These gestures can be a simple and silent as writing letter. But we should never forget that our response to the struggles of their lives should mirror God's emotional response to the first sin of humanity. 

In that case God boldly came to us. God choose to leave the perfect Union of heaven and accept a mortal body that would hang on a cross one day. God did not respond gently and mildly to our need--and I do not believe that God ever will. God shows up for us. Right now. In totality. 

So as I think about my letter, yes, it was a small gesture but it was one that confronted the recipient in the place where they were. They suffer. I know this.  They are working hard and trying to adapt daily to an ever-shifting landscape. 

Small gestures are one thing, but I wonder if we could stop seeing them just as tiny things that we do and realize that they are tools that God can use to heal, restore, and support another person? 

I wonder if you have decided to care of another person in the same way? I bet God will use that caring act to help the other person in ways you do not anticipate. 

Blessings

Rev. Derek

Wonderings--February 9

I did a thing. . . 

Sometimes the most obvious thing to do, the most needed thing to do, the thing that we are called by God to do, isn't the thing that we choose to do. (Now I know that this sounds like Paul's words in Romans 7, but it is what it is). Let me explain: 

As you know, Covid has brought a great deal of suffering into our community. It has brought uncertainty and frustration in equal parts to us. What seemed solid, foundational, in our lives, became shaky and isolating. Almost overnight we found ourselves living and operating on islands. Separated from the things that we love and the people we needed. Many felt uncared for. Forgotten. Neglected. And this was not our choice. 

We still loved those around us. We cared for them. If asked, we would affirm total solidarity with them. Yet, I wonder if you know of a time recently that you have felt alone and wounded? I wonder if the solid-ness that defined your day normally was replaced by isolation? 

But remember, like I started with, "I did a thing". . . and maybe God is asking you to do the same thing in your own way to your own people? And what was that dramatic, life-altering, amazing thing that I did?. . .  I wrote a letter. That's it. I wrote a letter. 

The words of the letter were not that revelatory. I did not offer any information in the letter that was beyond my sphere of influence. No grand promises were made. No grandstanding or pontificating on the issues of the day. . . There was absolutely nothing false written in that letter. I just said what God says to each of us: 

I am here. 

Perhaps I am not the only person who needs to offer that type of presence?  For whether it is covid, an illness, the presence of grief, the impending end for someone, it does not matter. God is here. God is always here. 

But it is we who forget that word. We forget how closely God draws to us in our times of need. We get so wrapped up in what we are doing and how hard we are working that we can forget the only promise that God makes in the work: "I am with you always, even to the end."

What would happen today, if you took the chance and 'did a thing?' Who might it help? Perhaps they need you right now? 

Blessings

Rev. Derek

Wonderings--February 8

While reading the introduction to a new book (Atlas of the Heart) that I am enjoying, I came across the following survey and results that I want to share with you today. This research was conducted over five years and asked respondents to list all of the emotions that they could recognize and name as they were experiencing them. 

(Perhaps take a moment to jot your responses to that question down just to notice in yourself how you might respond. . .)

After compiling thousands of surveys three emotions stood head-and-shoulders above the rest as being common to all responses. Over five years the three emotions that people could recognize as they were experienced were: happy, sad, and angry. 

The supervisor of the survey was shocked! She wondered what it meant that the vastness of human emotions and responses could be, and was, boiled down to three emotions? Are we truly all feeling the same thing? Of all the human emotions that are accessible to us, why do we identify only as mad, sad, or happy? 

Now there is a great deal of room in this conversation to lean back and wonder about the social implication of these results, but I wonder about how the apply them theologically? How do we take the results of this survey and apply them in our lives as Christians as we seek to serve God and live faithfully in our context? 

If the author's conclusion is correct, then it seems from my perspective that you and I have a commonality with our neighbors that might normally go unrecognized. . . 

While we might recognize and accept God as the center of our lives, and even if our neighbor does not, common space is present. We may believe that the scriptures are a true and accurate representation of how God reveals Himself to us through Christ Jesus, and the person next door may disagree with us vehemently. Yet, we each know what it feels like to be happy, sad, and angry. 

We have a commonality with them, and in that commonality, language exists that can help them live faithfully in this world and find God seeking them out. But we must accept this conclusion and choose whether we are going to live into it and serve God or not. 

I wonder where this emotional commonality points you? What does it look like? And how different truly are we in the church from our brethren who do not worship with us? 

Blessings

Rev. Derek 

Wonderings--February 7

Sometimes when you take a moment, slow down, and notice, you witness something that can help shape your day. When that happens what you witness becomes a "God moment.". . . And God moments can be shared. Let me share the story with you from Sunday worship. . . 

The Sunday service was proceeding normally. Bert, our liturgist, blessed our hearts with an a-cappella opening as part of her welcome. With each line and stanza of the song that she sang, I felt my heart lifting up and a smile coming across my face. God was good and the service was a blessing. 

As we prayed for the needy of our community, God was close at hand. With each shared prayer concern, we noticed how great our God is and we know how great He could become in the lives of other people who need His touch. . . 

And then something small, something most of you didn't notice, happened.

Reagan Hall sat down at the piano to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. I imagine she took a deep breath, relaxed, and started playing. . . If you are familiar with the piece you know its pacing and sound. She was doing well. I noticed LaRayne watching proudly from the back row of the choir area, and then it happened. 

Sitting a row in front of LaRayne was Reagan's sister Katie. Head slightly cocked toward her sister, she sat silently listening with her legs crossed. But the thing you didn't see was her hand. Katie had her fist resting on top knee with her thumb sticking up. She was giving her sister, who I imagine was a bit nervous, a silent 'thumbs up' in support. 

She didn't smile. She didn't look anxious herself. Instead Katie sat there offering a tiny little gesture to her sister that said in its own way: "You got this." Indeed she did. 

Reagan finished playing and sat down. The silent "thumbs up" slid away and the service continued onward. There was no acknowledgment of that silent gesture but I imagine, as I bet you do, that it was appreciated. 

We don't always have to make a grand show of support to another person. Instead we just 'show up' and allows God to act. Nothing needed to be said. Nothing was said between the sisters. They were just there to support one another. 

I wonder if today you might be able to offer that same silent support, encouragement, and presence to another person? And I wonder how that might bless them? 

Blessings,

Rev. Derek

Wonderings--February 3

Do you ever get tempted with the idea that you are too busy for to be faithful? Too busy to practice your faith? And in that confession you become frustrated and upset with yourself and with the life that you are living?  

For many of us we believe that our faith is a private, personal matter. It's no one business by my own--well at least its between God and me. No one should worry about how I manage my faith or how I find the time to be faithful. . . 

Perhaps like me, you have had a busy couple of weeks and you find that the regular activities of the faith, those that you cherish and affirm on Sunday with the Body of Christ, aren't happening as regularly as you'd like. 

Perhaps you mean well. Perhaps you truly love God and would never confess to moving God to a distant second-seat in your life. . . But that happens from time to time. The events of the day taking priority over the devotion we need. And when it does, the response that brings us back into faithfulness feels like an impossibility. It feels like climbing Everest rather than just walking with Jesus along the path of life. 

On my way home from an appointment with Emma's guidance counselor I listened to a new podcast that I have come to appreciate. The host, in her regular gentle tone and timber, confessed that she likes to find space and time to travel to the beach which is near her home. Doing so, she says, is part of her practices of Christian faithfulness. It is part of her devotional time with the Lord that she loves. The 15 or 20 minutes it take her to get to that beach is time when she can contemplate how God is at work in her life. 

Then as she thinks about how God has been close to her this week, and notices the gentle nudges of the Holy Spirit, the two of them (She and God) can talk about how to remedy any shortcomings and grow closer together relationally. . . But this week that has not happened and she confessed this failing on the episode that I listened to. 

She said that she has been trying to get to the beach and yet cannot do it and was becoming quite discouraged and frustrated by her apparent lack of devotion to God. The things that occupied her time were meaningful and worthy, yet something did not feel right because she and God did not walk together this week as they normally did. . . I wonder if you know something that feeling? 

For a few days the host of the show said that she was irritated by this fact and began to judge herself and judge those who were keeping her away from her faithfulness-practices. But then she finally got to take the way. . . and as she took it, God and she spoke again. 

God reminded her that the busy life that she had was part of His plan. He was there. Why did she believe that God would only walk with her as she went to the beach? Why not think that God was close at hand at every interval of life? 

I wonder again if you and I might learn something from her lesson? 

Perhaps through the business of the week, through the pressure and commitments, God might be wondering where you've been? . . . Why did you think that he was only waiting to walk with you toward your own 'private beach?' Maybe God was there in the hectic-ness of life? 

Blessings

Rev. Derek

Wonderings--February 2

According to the weather app on my iPhone, today the high temperature will reach 57 degrees. While the walk to the church was cool, I was not discouraged. Sitting now in my office in a short sleeve shirt that JonMark 'passed down' to me, I sip some coffee and know that when I get home the sun will have warmed the area and it will bless my heart. 

Thinking about how it is going to be almost 60 degrees today made me remember my last conversation with JonMark. 

It was very late at night--so late that it was almost early. He said the temperature in his car registered at 1 degree and I knew that the windchill was far worse and had already chilled him to the bone as he walked to his car. He said that he was 'over it' which made my heart smile as I thought about him coming to see us one day and enjoy the warmth of South Carolina. . . family being reunited.  

And then my thoughts drifted to how Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania is supposed to received additional snow tomorrow--a lot of snow if I remember correctly. 

Once again he will have to gather his strength to press on through frigid, dangerous, weather and continue his life. He will wear an extra layer and he will thrive. . . And I know that he will do it with a smile and his gentle grace. 

But how? How will he both practically and emotionally do this? How will he practice resilience in his spirit? And how will we when the events in our days either spiral out of control or press us against an emotional wall that we cannot climb or access? 

Katherine May says: 

"By embracing winter, rather than trying to push it away, [I] have found a way to keep going."

(You can substitute the word 'winter' for anything that you'd like that you struggle with.)

By embracing the challenge, even the feelings of hopelessness that could come with it, and by taking all of that into the presence of God, we keep going. 

Covid may still live next door, and grief may bruise your soul, and hopeless feelings can abound, but so can the chance to embrace the struggle. The choice to embrace it happens because you know that as you embrace a thing  you do so with God embracing it with you. . . You are not alone and so you do not struggle, work, or weep alone. 

I wonder today what thing you could find in your life that you and God could embrace together? And I wonder what might happen when you do? 

Blessings

Rev. Derek  

Wonderings--February 1

In God's kingdom there is always the chance to offer healing and support in ways that seems unexpected and unbelievable to the rest of the community at-large. 

That support, which can take on the appearance and forgiveness and/or peace, speaks in our lives with far greater meaning than we might first believe. For much in the kingdom of God that we live into, and are called to share, has a long lasting effect on others as we live out our faith. We are not called to practice a silent, distant, faith, but a dynamic one that challenges others to follow Jesus' example. 

Majorie Thompson tells the following story from the Dakota Sioux Indians. It is a story that illustrates the communal nature and dynamics of forgiveness. She writes: 

"A young man in the tribe has been murdered, and his enraged relatives were gathered to plan revenger. The eldest male in the clan listened to them all out their aggrieved feelings and vindictive intentions, repeating to them what he heard them say. . . Finally, he spoke again to say that there was a better way--a harder but better way. He told them to go home, look over their prized possessions, and bring back the one thing they prized the most.

He said, "The gift you brig shall go to the murderer, for a tone of our sincerity and our purpose. Though he has hurt us, we shall make him. . . [a relative], in place of the one who is not here."

At the appointed time, the murderer was brought into the council tepee and given the peace pipe with these words: 

"Smoke, with these your new kinsmen seated here. For they have chosen to take you to themselves in place of the one who is not here. . . It is their desire that henceforth you shall go in and out among them without fear. By these presents which they have brought here for you, they would have you know that whatever love and compassion they had for him is now yours, forever."

Deeply moved, the slayer began to weep." 

We read this story and think that is is incredible in its reach and its welcome. We might even wonder how could we adopt a similar posture and practice in our faith journey. Yet these questions should not dissuade us from living out the posture that we read about knowing that the work will be hard each and every day. 

While God does not often ask each of us to sell all we have and give to the poor or needy, we are called to offer the level of support and welcome that this story speaks about. Knowing that this is challenging attitude to adopt, I wonder what your life and evangelism would shift if you offered a similar and personal degree of care to someone in your community? 

Blessings

Rev. Derek