A PLACE FOR SPIRITUALITY, ART AND COMMUNITY
I feel like a kid on a fresh-snow Christmas morning … it’s my first snow day here in my new home of Portland, and my son’s 19th birthday. Life is good.
Sending out a visual of beauty and hope. May Love walk by you today … and may she stay awhile.
Peace out for now.
It’s been awhile, so I thought I’d offer a word. Here we are on the verge of one of my favorite holidays, at least it has been the last couple of decades. My dear son, John, was born 19 years ago tomorrow, so Valentine’s Day has taken on special meaning for me ever since. The world could stand to celebrate Love, too; I mean it IS what makes the world go around!
Of course not everyone agrees. Maybe in theory we all do, but some of our behavior doesn’t quite match up. At least that’s what I’m noticing lately. To be fair, we’re all under a tremendous amount of stress these days. World politics, environmental concerns, war and general unrest among people and populations … and what about the price of eggs?!
I had a mentor once that reminded me to be careful about the shoes I wear each day. “Dancing shoes or combat boots, Lisa … you decide.” I don’t think his message was personal, but maybe it was. Or, maybe he just noticed the ridiculous number of pairs I own. I showed a colleague my shoe closet the other day and she smartly asked if I wear them all. “Of course not, I replied, … but aren’t they fabulous?” I’m quite sure she was less than impressed, and maybe even a little concerned. But if owning too many shoes is my worst vice, well, then I think I’m doing okay.
In truth, dancing is a lot more fun than hand-to-hand combat. Not that I’d know, thanks be to God. I do like kickboxing though and I think I need to do more of it to ward off the stress of being a human being on planet Earth in 2025. Will you join me? Kickboxing or dancing or something that doesn’t involve taking your frustration out on your fellow humans, animals, or any other sentient beings. Thanks for considering.
Peace out for now, my friends.
This is the longest, darkest night of the year. I don’t know how this night is showing up for you, but for me, I have things to celebrate, and things to grieve. Grief comes first … unfortunately it always does. Hard things first … “get them out of the way, before they get in your way,” I say. My griefs this day are many, if I sit long enough for them to all filter in. The one I am willing to share tonight is about the death of a Dear One on my life path. Eric was the Music Director of the first church I ever served in a pastoral role. He was a Gentle Giant, which is NOT to say that he was a big man with a shrinking violet exterior … no, he was bigger than life … a big presence in body, spirit, mind, emotion, voice and behavior, BUT he had a very tender, sweet heart. Quite a deadly combination for a young Pastor; but it worked, as he could’ve been my very own father and so we had the funny, odd, and blessed relationship that works, when it works. Which, for Eric and me generally did. I loved him, dearly. I just learned yesterday that he is no longer on this Earth. A poor shame for us all … for sure.
My favorite (sharable) story about Eric was when, upon my departure as Pastoral Intern from our small San Francisco-based church, be presented me with a parting gift … a small match-box car, a Mustang convertible, that he had painted red with nail polish (because he could not acquire one in time to give me on my appointed last day of service). This thoughtful and funny action made me cry in front of everyone (and I don’t cry easily, people).
See, you don’t even need the back story to get this … right?! What a gem the world has lost this week. Then again, he’s holding court in heaven with Jesus, God, the Holy Spirit, and every other demi-God behind the veiled curtain, so we’re all going to be okay, Okay?!
As God would have it, one of my blessings this week is that I hired a new Music Director (at a different church, in a different city … my fourth or fifth church depending on how you count them), and this is fabulous news indeed. Ben’s a young man, 35-ish years old, a great age-foil to dear Eric who was probably solidly into his eighties when he died this week. So, young Ben has lots of time to become as awesome as his predecessor. I’ll pray for him … it’s a tall task.
I’m lighting a Yule Log tonight to celebrate this Winter Solstice evening. The Light is coming back, people. Praise be to God. Hold tight, my friends. Life is good, God is good, and we will ALL be okay. More than okay. I’m praying …
Peace Out for now.
Rev. Robechek
Based on Isaiah 40:1-11;
Preached at Tualatin Presbyterian Church on December 8, 2024
This time of year is interesting … lovely and challenging …
paradoxical in the way life often is.
In our day to day lives, this season is a time in which parties,
gift buying, decorating, preparing and sending Christmas cards,
can have us spinning so fast that we can hardly catch up with ourselves.
The notion of sitting around waiting,
which is what the Church invites us to do during the season of Advent,
seems utterly absurd.
In the church, however, we do wait.
There is of course great anticipation in this season
that leads up to the birth of the Christ child,
and yet really the focus in these weeks of December
is to be attentive to our experience of waiting.
Franciscan friar and author Richard Rohr says that
“All Christian history lives out a deliberate emptiness.
Perfect fullness is always yet to come.
“Come, Lord Jesus” is your Advent prayer.
Living in this way, with an understanding that we await fulfillment,
leaves the field of life wide open
and especially open to grace and a future created by God
rather than by us.”
So, what does a future created by God look like?
Isaiah proclaims that we are to be comforted.
That punishment for our sins has ended.
Now is a time of restoration and renewal.
God promises to speak tenderly to us.
Our shortcomings will be forgiven, and we will be repaired two-fold.
The prophet Isaiah tells us that God will feed his flock like a shepherd,
God will gather us, like little lambs and cradle us,
gently leading us home.
Waiting with the assurance that God is active in our lives,
and capable and desiring of setting all things right in our world
can make waiting easier.
And yet waiting in this way does not mean
we are invited to take a passive,
“Oh, God will take care of it all,” stance.
God is holding us and all of our lives, to be sure,
but we have an important, engaged role to play.
Isaiah tells us that our part in all this is to prepare the way,
to make straight the path for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up
and every mountain and hill be made low …
we are invited to make a smooth highway
for God to come straight away.
The call here is for some major road construction.
We’re not talking minor repairs,
like filling in the potholes and repairing curbs,
but rather a serious personal transformation of the landscape of our lives.
This is not always a joyful, easy experience.
I came across a story
about the evangelist Billy Graham and his wife Ruth
being on a long road trip in which they encountered
a good deal of major road construction –
one lane roads, major detours, and long waits.
Probably this is foreign to most of you.
At the end of it all they saw a road sign, which read:
“End of construction. Thanks for your patience.”
Ruth apparently quipped,
“That’s what I’d like written on my tombstone!
… end of construction … thanks for your patience!”
Besides her humor, there’s a lot of grace in that statement.
I don’t know about you, but I am seldom patient
when it comes to enduring major construction on the roads,
and even less so when the construction is on me personally.
If readying ourselves for God to move in and through us easily
means filling in our valleys and flattening our high places,
then clearly, we are in for a lifetime of work.
This being the case, we might take heed of a quote a ran across
attributed to an Arizona physician Dr. Michael McGriffy who said,
“Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape.”
The life waiting for us is not necessarily the life that we see ahead of us.
Sometimes what comes by surprise is a huge blessing …
so amazing we could never have imagined it.
Other times the surprise is anything but gift-worthy,
making us question how God could allow this thing to happen.
Either way, as Joseph Campbell says,
“we must be willing to get rid of the life we planned,
so as to have the life waiting for us.”
A little story from my own life to illuminate this.
When I was 25 years old, I had the opportunity to move from Columbus, Ohio to Seattle, Washington.
I would be joining a small insurance brokerage firm
where I would be the apprentice to a man with a lifetime of experience
helping companies of all sizes select and acquire
the best benefit plans for their employees.
Excited with this opportunity,
… well probably more with a new life in a new city …
but anyway, I packed all my worldly possessions and headed west.
Concurrent with this trip,
I decided to make another big transition in my life.
I decided to return to Church,
after nearly a decade of having walked away from ‘organized religion.’
You see, I was an extremely idealistic teen
and as such was deeply turned off by the dichotomy I found
in churches … the sometimes vast difference between
what people said they believed and what they did instead.
On the first Sunday in town, I went to Queen Anne Presbyterian,
a small neighborhood church in the part of town where I had landed.
As you good church people would expect,
I met some very nice people there and
had a sweet first experience back into the fold.
Which was a huge blessing to me, not just for that one Sunday,
But because it introduced me to people that helped me through
yet another big transition in my life.
Later that first month in Seattle, my boss,
the man I had moved across country to go work for and learn from,
informed me that he was leaving our small firm
to be the Director of Human Resources for our largest client.
This left me without a job.
Stunned and feeling quite alone in this new city,
I surprised myself by calling the pastor at QAPC.
Over the course of several weeks and multiple conversations,
Jeff and I discussed what God might be calling me to do at this juncture.
After getting to know me a bit, he asked me a question
that hit me like a two-by-four:
“Lisa, have you ever thought about going into the ministry?”
I laughed in his face.
Hard.
Because, No! I had never considered that.
Remember, I had left the church for a decade.
Once we got over this kerfuffle,
I asked him what prompted such an outlandish suggestion.
He said, “well, you seem to have a heart for helping people, Lisa.
I notice that you’re very attentive in your interactions with others,
and you clearly have faith …
I mean you moved across the country all by yourself,
knowing no one here ahead of time.”
Now this was a very kind assessment,
but if Jeff had been a social worker or a therapist or a doctor,
it’s quite possible that I wouldn’t be standing before you today …
I would have become some other type of professional, maybe?
God certainly does move in mysterious ways.
Maybe it’s just me, but making my way through life
sometimes feels like driving at night in the fog.
We can only see as far as our headlights reach,
but as you’ve undoubtedly heard and experienced,
we CAN make the whole trip that way.”
I wonder if we can find peace in this?
If I can stay present in the moment
and trust that God is laying out the whole trip,
a deep abiding peace comes over me.
This usually catches me completely off guard.
This kind of peace is never manufactured by me,
but only received through God’s grace.
These moments may be few and far between,
but we can encourage our capacity for experiencing peace.
And this does not mean that we must permanently step outside
the hustle and bustle of this time of year.
Experiencing peace does not require us to be in a place
with no noise, trouble, or hard work.
True peace is to be amid these things and still be calm in your heart.
And Isaiah, in this passage that starts with
“Comfort, O Comfort, my people”
is inviting us to trust in the One who can do this for us.
This Sunday, we celebrate the coming
of the birth of the Prince of Peace.
If we had lived before this event,
the life waiting for us would have been unimaginable.
How could the Prince of Peace, the Almighty King
be born as a vulnerable infant in a lowly manger?
If we didn’t know the story,
would we have stopped to recognize God’s gift?
God doesn’t sky write (at least not typically in my experience),
but God does set a blazing star alight.
As in the one that shone brightly over the place
where our savior was born.
Are we calm enough, attentive enough to notice it
and then follow the stirrings in our hearts?
Similarly, can we trust these words of Isaiah,
that God sends us comfort, peace, a nurturing presence,
constancy of Word …
even as we do not see clear evidence of this playing out in our world?
I came across a quote I like (attributed to Edward Hays),
“Advent is a winter training camp for those who desire peace.”
A winter-time training camp would seem to be notorious
for hard conditions and thus require a tremendous commitment
to doing the work.
In the midst of all this,
can we remain open to the life waiting for us,
trusting the Prince of Peace who has come and will come again?
May it be so …
Amen.
Offered at Tualatin Presbyterian Church on December 1, 2024 (First Sunday of Advent)
So today I’m offering a brief reflection on the creche –
the scene we place before us during Advent to remind us
who is coming into our world, yet again – the Christ child.
The way we display it is often cute or tender –
I mean look at those little sheep?
Sometimes we even have a live baby we place in the manger –
which is really cool because that child can grow up
and put “played Baby Jesus” on their resume someday –
and who wouldn’t want to hire that person?
But let’s really take a look at the creche –
what it truly depicts if we’re being honest.
Our Savior was born to an unwed teenage mother
who’d been riding a donkey in the cold
led by a man who wasn’t, at least not officially, his dad.
Furthermore, said dad, or maybe it was mom,
forgot to make reservations ahead of time
so when they reached their destination
there was no room for them in the Inn.
Now maybe it was the Innkeeper’s fault –
it’s possible they guy overbooked himself,
… but being a decent human being,
and seeing a very pregnant young woman,
he shuffled his animals out of the way
so the blessed couple could rest for a while
out of the harsh night-time elements.
Now you don’t think the animals liked that very much, do you?
Animals generally don’t like it when a human baby comes into the mix.
I mean they’re first fiddle, or were, you know?
And then the adult humans have the audacity to place this ‘thing’
in their manger, their food trough?!
“What do you want us to do … eat the blessed child or what?!”
Alright, I hope your start in life was a little smoother than this.
For most of you it probably was.
But if you’ve lived long enough,
you may have had a Christmas like this one.
Probably it showed up a little different.
Probably there were no smelly animals,
maybe no unanticipated baby, or poorly planned road trip,
but undoubtedly, if you’ve lived through much life at all,
you’ve had a Christmas that didn’t quite live up to your expectations.
If this is so – and maybe especially if you’re currently
experiencing one of those occasions,
please take heart and know that you’re not alone.
It happened to the best of us, as in Jesus Christ
… and he lived through it.
What I’d like to point out, as a means of offering some hope,
is that there were a lot of miracles happening in this story we just read.
Obviously, the birth of the Christ Child, but all around him as well.
Like that Mother Mary said: “Let it be”
when she was told she was going to have a baby …
and for the life of her she probably couldn’t figure out
how that happened?!
And Joseph said “Yes” too.
I don’t think he knew how they’d gotten themselves
into this predicament either …
but nonetheless he agreed to take this pregnant young woman
all the way to Bethlehem and register them with the authorities
as husband and wife.
The miracles keep coming.
In angels who appear in the heavenly sky;
on earth as shepherds watching over sheep;
and even in domesticated animals (slightly domesticated)
who don’t eat the blessed child and thus give him
at least a small head’s start in this crazy world of ours.
That’s a lot of Good News!
Your personal world has a lot of good news as well.
If it’s easy for you to see that – fantastic.
Embrace it with thanksgiving and joy.
Appreciate it. Really notice it. Savor it.
If you are not seeing the blessings around you …
maybe because there truly aren’t very many this year,
then quiet yourself, dig deep within,
and ask the sweet Baby Jesus to show you the way,
to light your way so that you can at least
find a little bread for the next few steps of your journey.
Most of you know that I drove a 26-foot rental truck
full of all my worldly belongings
from San Francisco to Portland last week.
It was a journey.
I could regale you with stories for hours,
but this isn’t the ‘Lisa Show’ – thanks be to God.
I will tell you one, as a means of illustration:
When I filled the truck with gas for the first time,
I had trouble getting the gas to flow
so I went in and spoke with a woman
who was working inside the truck stop.
She was happy to come take a look,
and of course had no trouble getting it to work.
I smiled at her and said,
“See, I guess I just needed to call in an expert.”
She smiled broadly, blew the tip of her finger
(with her hand making the symbol of a gun),
and with a great flourish put it back in it’s fake holster on her hip.
We shared a great laugh.
I loved this so much that while I stood in the cold pumping my gas,
I decided to go buy a coffee from her to thank her one last time
(this says an extra lot as there was a good national brand coffee shop right next door).
She continued her good-naturedness by poking fun
at how much hair spray she’d put on that morning
and so the fun between us continued.
As I left to start the rest of my journey north,
I felt such a sweet sense of gratitude for the presence of angels on earth.
There are so many of them, … so many of us.
I invite you to take notice of this as much as you can.
Offer a simple kindness and they will appear in such a vast multitude.
This is a simple way to lift your spirits, while lifting others …
and even if it only holds its magic for a few moments,
it will still have been completely worth your efforts.
You know who holds us in the midst of all of this, don’t you?!
A little baby boy, who was blessed enough that
his mom said yes and
his dad said yes and
even the animals said, okay we won’t eat him.
That’s some good news indeed.
May this Advent season start off for each of you
with blessing upon blessing.
And just remember … if you’re not feeling it this year …
ask the little guy, ask the Christ Child for some help seeing His Way.
Amen.
Based on Daniel 12:1-3, Psalm 16, and Mark 13:1-8; Preached at Tualatin Presbyterian Church on November 17, 2024
I am amazed at how often the Common Lectionary,
the calendar I generally use to focus my sermon and worship planning,
offers the most fitting scripture passages week after week,
and today we have no departure from that.
Maybe this is because the Bible is so rich,
so all-encompassing that it knows how to meet us wherever we are
… that no matter the week or the circumstances,
our Good Book will speak to us. Always.
It’s quite impressive, really.
I do wish on this particular occasion,
when some here are still reeling over our country’s election results
and others are personally grieving the loss of loved ones, or their health and wellbeing,
I do wish our scripture selections were a bit more comforting today.
Did you notice all the apocalyptic themes in what we just heard?
And, who needs anything to feel more ominous or heavy at the moment.
Now maybe this doesn’t resonate with you.
I hope you feel safe, secure and hopeful, … if not about worldly events,
then at least about your personal Thanksgiving plans.
Thanksgiving is one of the most beautiful holidays,
in my humble opinion …
I mean what’s not to like about a celebration
involving gratitude, friends, and food.
Beyond that, I love that I don’t have any particular
professional obligations on Thanksgiving … and furthermore,
our capitalistic society hasn’t co-opted the day too very much.
The exceptions are few …
I don’t know how many of you drove by it on your way here,
but there’s a huge balloon turkey in someone’s lawn a block or so away.
Have you seen it?
It’s one of the few tangible advertisements I’ve seen for Thanksgiving Day.
The only other reminders I notice are long grocery lists
and earmarked pages of cookbooks on everyone’s kitchen counters.
Anyway, back to scripture and
the dire messages at hand in today’s readings.
As is always the case, there IS Good News to be found here,
… we just might have to dig a little deeper to find it.
And, … as I did last week, we aren’t going to the Good News straight away.
First, I’m going to drag us through the mud …
well, … the gospel of Mark is going to …
we’re just going along for the ride.
Mark’s story today has Jesus hanging out with his disciples
who are impressed with the Temple,
the building in front of them, and how large it is.
The disciples in this chapter sound a bit (to me) like kids
who are enamored with a shiny toy on the shelf at a store.
“Look, Mom, look at how big this Lego set is
and look at how big the pieces are …
(not little so you’ll step on them when they get caught in the shag carpet)
… couldn’t we have this one?”
Jesus undercuts their perceptions straight away.
“You think that is going to fit the bill, huh?
You think this will make you happy for more than a rainy afternoon?
You think you can pin your happiness, safety or security
on this big Lego set (or this impressive Temple)?
I wouldn’t recommend that.”
Now, we don’t quite know whether Peter, James, John and Andrew
accepted Jesus’ pronouncement immediately.
It’s possible we’re missing some conversation they had
between verses two and three in Mark’s gospel.
It’s possible the disciples didn’t ascribe to Jesus’ lesson right off the bat.
I mean towering buildings are not supposed to crumble to the ground.
The biblical disciples didn’t live through 9/11
in the United States of America,
and maybe they’d never seen such a thing happen.
So, they might’ve resisted Jesus’ statement initially.
But what they say next, … what IS mentioned here in this gospel
seems to imply that they’ve embraced Jesus’ proclamation
… and, feeling the danger inherent therein …
have begun to ask for the particulars.
“Okay, Jesus … when is this going to happen exactly?
When are these big stones going to be thrown down?”
I love Jesus, and he’s rather cagey … have you ever noticed?
He doesn’t answer their question directly.
Now, … maybe he doesn’t know the answer.
Maybe when he agreed to come into the world as a human being
he had to relinquish his divine all-knowingness.
Maybe he really didn’t know how to answer them.
I’m not sure if other parents here can relate to this,
but when my son John was a boy, even when he was just a toddler,
he would stump me with his questions constantly.
So, I got very good at saying:
“I don’t know, John. We’ll have to look it up.”
I shouldn’t complement myself from the pulpit,
but in my way of thinking this was usually a truly brilliant answer,
because it taught him that
It also got me off the hook, because until he got significantly older,
he didn’t remember or didn’t care to do the research
… so I didn’t have to either.
Anyway, back to Jesus.
Jesus doesn’t answer his disciples’ question directly either.
Unlike the glib mom that I maybe was at times,
Jesus warns his littles to not be led astray by someone presenting
as though they have all the answers.
I don’t know if Jesus would want to be held up next to a mother,
and this one in particular,
but he certainly was a Teacher, which mothers are as well.
… and he wisely didn’t want to leave his students exposed and vulnerable,
so he told them to beware.
“Don’t be led astray.
And, this can happen very easily, my dear ones.
Use care not to be dupped.”
Now, as if this isn’t enough of a warning,
Jesus goes on to state clearly (and I quote)
“nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.
There will be earthquakes and famines …
and this is but the beginning of the birth pangs.”
Oh, dear Jesus! Where’s the Good News?
Can you relate?
Do any of you feel personally fearful hearing Jesus’ warning?
Maybe especially in light of world events?
The larger ones, or your personal circumstances?
Wouldn’t you prefer that your Lord and Savior offer some assurances
that IF in fact all this IS to happen,
that at least you personally and your nearest and dearest
will survive all the mayhem he predicts?
I know that’s what I want.
There’s a movie I can’t remember the title of,
but I do remember a line out of the main character’s mouth.
He says, “I have faith, I just want some proof to back it up!”
So, where can we go for help?
Especially if Jesus himself is delivering some frightening predictions?
Our OT reading from Daniel tells us that someone named Michael,
a great prince and protector of people shall arise.
Who’s he? Who’s this Michael?
You remember my pat response, right?
“I don’t know … we’ll have to look that up.”
Maybe you expect me to do that for you, huh?
Well, true to form, I didn’t do a whole lot of research about this,
but it appears he was some sort of a patron saint …
maybe an archangel the people could call on
when they needed other worldly help.
In the children’s message,
I called on them to remember some of their helpers,
just as I invited everyone gathered here to do a few weeks ago.
A few of my helpers’ names are radiating from this heart,
and if I had sat with the task longer,
which would have been easy to do,
there wouldn’t be enough space on this small banner to list them all.
Not even close.
And while I’ve made it known that I love a good many of you,
even as I’ve just started to get to know you,
not one of your names is on this masterpiece.
I did that intentionally,
because I won’t risk leaving anyone out and because
I don’t want you studying it for your placement on the heart.
You are there, trust me … even if your name isn’t yet.
Where do we find our hope?
When I read Psalm 16, the phrase “the path of life” stood out to me.
That’s what Jesus holds out to us, always …
even when he must warn us of the possible pitfalls on our way.
I would argue that we start where we are.
Maybe some of you recognize the path
on the front cover of today’s bulletin?
I took it while walking in Little Wood Rose park behind this church.
I don’t know how it is for each of you when you start a new job,
a new life, but generally one’s plate is pretty full.
How blessed am I that in 2 minutes flat I can be out the door
and walking amongst lush green trees
with solid brown dirt under my feet.
This grounds me.
And I can hear God speaking in these quiet moments.
Coaxing me to remember that I am not alone.
I have never been alone.
We are not forsaken.
We have a God whose name is Love …
and that God will see us through every tight turn,
every scary adventure, if we but listen and follow.
Take time to listen to whatever might center you on your journey …
maybe remember the saints who came before you,
and the ones who still walk with you.
And know that God shines through us all.
Amen.
Sermon preached at Tualatin Presbyterian Church, November 10, 2024
Just a few weeks ago, I said goodbye to a church that I really loved.
Truth be told, I said goodbye to five church homes a few weeks ago.
Rather than explain exactly how this could be so,
let’s just say I’m a ‘church junkie’ and leave it at that.
While I come with deep gratitude and joy to serve Tualatin Presbyterian Church,
I also come to you as someone who has endured much sadness in my life,
including some very recent and big upsets.
Not unlike a lot of us gathered here this morning …
Anyway (back to my story), in one of those worshipping communities,
the minister offered a simple, public blessing at the end of the service.
My colleague Rev Heather, and the community gathered at St. John’s,
knew I was moving away from the San Francisco Bay Area
and would not worship with them much going forward,
so Heather kindly offered a ‘charge and blessing’ for me personally.
Right at that moment (while I was slightly everyone’s focal point),
my cell phone called out ‘GPS Lost’ (Global Positioning System LOST).
As a professional worship leader,
I obviously know the importance of turning off my phone
when I enter a place of worship (and I know that I had done that).
Needless to say, my phone didn’t agree with me.
It was startling and slightly embarrassing, but I chose to laugh it off,
as did most everyone in the room, I think.
I figure these digital devices are part of our world
and so maybe they too need a voice.
Maybe God even speaks through them?
As I was leaving worship my other colleague at St. John’s,
Rev. Chris said to me,
“Lisa, ‘GPS Lost’ will preach!
I don’t know if you’re going to use it, but I am!”
I laughed and assured him that I most definitely would.
Being a woman of my word, here I am.
Walking out of church to my car that day, I thought ahead …
knowing I would be preaching my very first sermon as your pastor
just five days after a contentious and divided national election
here in America.
While I wasn’t yet aware of the lectionary scripture passages for today,
nor exactly how our election would go specifically,
I thought GPS Lost was a good opening story.
At the time, I thought I knew …
(somewhat) what was going to happen this past week,
not the particulars of course, but I thought I knew.
I didn’t … and GPS Lost does still preach.
Approximately half of Americans, and countless people the world over
feel that their GPS, their Global Positioning System is Lost.
I would contend that people on both sides
of the election results feel this way:
most Harris supporters feel lost that they didn’t win and
many Trump supporters feel lost by our country’s
traditional form of government
and in this state of lostness voted their candidate into office,
a man who tells us that he will challenge and maybe change
much of our historic ways of governing.
People on both ‘sides’ have views on the best way to proceed,
and yet I think every last one of us, if we are honest with ourselves,
must admit that the path forward,
the one that will play out,
is truly unclear.
Going back to my opening story,
even when we think we know how something is going to go,
we aren’t always right, clearly.
I suppose you’ve heard the phrase, “Make plans, and watch God laugh.”
If you come to church today feeling lost, please take heart,
because you have come to a place
where you have a chance to be found.
Now, I won’t and we (those gathered here in person) won’t,
solve your lostness, but we will point to the One who will.
As in God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit.
So, please take heart.
If you feel lost, I hope and pray you’ll feel at least a little more found
by the end of this service.
Our Scripture readings today are fascinatingly appropriate.
I’m amazed at how often that happens, but it very often does.
At first glance they are not comforting stories, at least not on the surface.
So if you unready feel uncomfortable, I ask you to please hang in with me
because it’s going to get a little more uncomfortable before it gets better.
I promise, I’ll do my best to leave us on a hopeful, but honest, ending note.
Now, traditionally, in the way I was taught to preach,
a minister focuses on one text out of the four offered
in the Common Lectionary,
a calendar that walks us through the major themes
and stories of the Christian Bible.
Today, I am not going to do that,
because each of the passages you just heard deserves some air-time.
This means we won’t dig very deep into any one of them,
but we will peel an outer layer or two of the onion on each.
In the first reading, we hear from the book of Ruth in our Hebrew Bible,
what we Christians call the Old Testament.
In it we hear a snippet of a story about Ruth, Naomi and Boaz.
There is so very much in this story that I would like to unpack,
but I am going to be very succinct here and just point out
that this story is about two vulnerable women who chose
to remain faithful to each other in the midst of considerable duress.
They found a way to work within a system in which they had virtually no power
by binding themselves to a man who can, and in fact does,
choose to come along side of them.
The result of this is that Obed,
the grandfather of the great King David is born.
One commentator I read this week said:
“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers,
for thereby some have entertained the great-grandmother of a king.”
In the second reading, we hear from the Psalmist, who proclaims
“Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord guards the city, the guard keeps watch in vain.”
I’m going to let that first verse of Psalm 127 speak for itself.
It is a word of tremendous hope, because what it says is God is in charge.
If we believe God loves us and wants what is best for us, always and in all ways,
then this is truly good news indeed.
Nothing other than the hand of God will build the house or keep the city
… at least in the end.
The third scripture passage we hear is from the Gospel of Mark.
This gospel overarchingly seeks to provide a theological record
of Jesus as a mighty miracle worker.
In today’s particular story, Jesus is found teaching his disciples,
about what it means to give sacrificially.
In it we meet the poor widow who gave to the treasury two mites
(the equivalent of one penny), which was all that she had.
Mind you, her contribution didn’t touch the much larger gifts given by wealthier members of the gathered congregation,
but Jesus still lifts her up as the most generous.
I would contend that Jesus did this for a few reasons:
1. Jesus always notices the poor … be it poor monetarily, poor in spirit (i.e. the grieving widow), poor in social location which was and unfortunately still is women and the disenfranchised of every ilk.
2. Jesus always illuminates things hard for us to see or hear or know straight away. He uncovers things for us. We humans might see two little coins and think, what is that? That won’t pay the bills. It’s a nice gesture and all, but that won’t solve the financial needs of much. And Jesus says, look again. Do you know who She is? Do you know what She has? Giving all she has, while not much by the world’s standards, is A LOT. Do not, humans, look down on her for her seemingly modest giving.
3. Jesus upends our world … pointing out that the last shall be first.
Now, there are a few additional things I need to unpack further about this story,
particularly because after worship today, all members of this church
are going to be given a pledge card for 2025
asking each of you to proclaim what monies you plan to contribute
to this church starting January 1, 2025.
Next Sunday, we will ceremoniously dedicate these cards in worship.
An important side note, if you can’t quite prayerfully consider what you wish to contribute to the ministry of this church by next Sunday,
we’ll still accept your pledge in the weeks following 😉
Because I referenced this Markian gospel passage in my stewardship letter to you,
I need to be sure that I help illuminate a few things,
which may still not be apparent about this story, The Widow’s Mite.
Jesus is not necessarily saying that the widow is doing the right thing.
He is definitely lifting her up as a positive example,
but not because he wants her to be in this position,
at least insofar as her financial contribution may leave her further destitute
That would be the antithesis of who Jesus is.
He is never about the widow being further diminished
by the worldly powers that be.
Jesus is simply making an observation.
While her two mites (or one penny) may seem small and insignificant,
she is giving her all.
That is what he is lifting up.
And, he is placing that alongside of the fact that those who appear to be giving much more
are not giving their all.
They are giving only a portion of what they have.
They are not giving sacrificially.
They are giving out of their comfort,
and, if we attach this action with the story that precedes it,
some of them feel lofty about tossing those big dollars
into the kitty in an ostentatious way.
They like the accolades they receive, because we all like to feel big and important.
This doesn’t make them ‘bad people.’
Jesus is emphatically saying I don’t care about that sort of thing (their posturing).
So, where’s the Good News?
It’s possible that the ‘widows’ here in my midst feel taken advantage of
and the ‘wealthy’ feel ashamed.
That’s not a good way to go home today.
We already have enough pain in our lives.
Well, here it is … here’s the Good News.
Jesus loves and forgives and welcomes new behavior from all of us.
Whether we give sacrificially or comfortably out of our abundance.
He is (as he always will) inviting us to see what we couldn’t see before.
He is (as he always will) inviting us to straighten out this messy human world
and its broken systems so that rampant oppression will cease to exist.
He is (as he always will) saying open your eyes, my people.
Open your ears, my people.
Open your mind, my people.
Open your heart, my people.
I love you.
Do better by one another and you will experience what it looks like to have MY LOVE REIGN
and be lived out here on Earth.
May it be so. Amen.
It may not appear so on this day, if you and I are like-minded. But Love does always win.
Always. Always. Always.
I have seen it so many times, in so many ways. From the hospital beds of the dying, from kitchen tables full of the grieving, from court rooms where justice was not served (yes, even then), from church fellowship halls with only a few tired disciples struggling to find the energy to go on. And on and on it goes. LOVE STILL WINS.
And it will today. Because if you and I are like-minded, like-hearted, you … yes, YOU reading this message …. will go out and share love. To the person beside you. At the grocery store. While pumping gas into your car. As you walk your dog. When you stop to park your bike. You will offer it with softness and kindness. You will love mercy and kindness and walk humbly with your God. Because you know that God is Love Incarnate. God’s Light will light yours. We aren’t the Little Match Girl whose light has (temporarily) blown out . God’s light is eternal and outlasts everything.
Be the light. And watch LOVE rise up!
Peace and grace to you this day.
Preached at Two Rock Valley Presbyterian and Tomales Presbyterian, September 1, 2024; Based on Song of Solomon 2:8-13 and James 1:17-27
Song of Solomon 2:8-13 (NRSV) – Springtime Rhapsody
8 The voice of my beloved! Look, he comes, leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills. 9 My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look, there he stands behind our wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice. 10 My beloved speaks and says to me: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away, 11 for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. 12 The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. 13 The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
James 1:17-27 (The Message) – Act on what you hear.
16-18 So, my very dear friends, don’t get thrown off course. Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light. There is nothing deceitful in God, nothing two-faced, nothing fickle. He brought us to life using the true Word, showing us off as the crown of all his creatures.
19-21 Post this at all the intersections, dear friends: Lead with your ears, follow up with your tongue, and let anger straggle along in the rear. God’s righteousness doesn’t grow from human anger. So throw all spoiled virtue and cancerous evil in the garbage. In simple humility, let our gardener, God, landscape you with the Word, making a salvation-garden of your life.
22-24 Don’t fool yourself into thinking that you are a listener when you are anything but, letting the Word go in one ear and out the other. Act on what you hear! Those who hear and don’t act are like those who glance in the mirror, walk away, and two minutes later have no idea who they are, or what they look like. 25 But whoever catches a glimpse of the revealed counsel of God — the free life! — even out of the corner of his eye, and sticks with it, is no distracted scatterbrain, but a man or woman of action. That person will find delight and affirmation in the action.
26-27 Anyone who sets himself up as “religious” by talking a good game is self-deceived. This kind of religion is hot air, and only hot air. Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight, and guard against corruption from the godless world.
Hold on, my very dear friends.
Please.
Don’t get thrown off course.
These are words from the book of James, and God, of course.
And it’s good counsel.
The reading Mary just recited comes from a book of the Bible we don’t often read …
the Song of Solomon.
It’s a curious pick for this week, but it does show up in the Revised Common Lectionary,
the prescribed calendar for walking through the major stories and themes of the Bible.
I find it a curious pick though, as maybe you did, for a couple of reasons.
The first is that it’s talking about Springtime, and, news-flash we’re headed into fall.
The text reads: “for now the winter is past and the rain is over and gone.”
I had a brief conversation with the grocery store clerk yesterday
and while we were both thrilled that fall is on the way,
she expressed some trepidation about the rains that will follow
shortly after the glorious days of fall color amid the sunshine.
Now, Song of Solomon does right itself somewhat
when it states that “the time of singing has come.”
That does align with our day. Amen?!
The Author must’ve known about Gary and his jazz band!!
We are so fortunate here, and at our Sister-Church, to have the gift of amazing music.
EVERY Sunday!
It’s a Good thing … “a Godly thing” to quote Alice Virginia (a dear faith mother of mine).
Thank you, Gary, Diane, Margaret, David, the Men’s Trio, our Choirs, and Handbell Ensemble.
I’ve surely forgotten to thank someone here,
and assuming so, chalk it up to a tired Lisa and the fact
that we have so many musicians in our midst that it’s hard to count them all.
But back to our Scripture.
The other thing that is a bit odd about the reading selection from the Song of Solomon
is that it speaks of romantic love.
This is not something we hear a lot about in the Bible, at least not so directly.
But here it is … just hear the last line again: Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
I remember when I was in seminary being thrilled to find this passage …
I suppose I’d heard it before, but I went looking for it, or something like it.
I was at a ceramic painting party, it was a bridal shower for a friend,
and as I recall I selected a platter or a large bowl to make for her.
Becca was marrying one of my dearest friends in seminary
and I knew that she and Scott needed some Scripture on their wedding gift
(I mean, but of course, they were seminarians!)
so I went searching for something appropriate. And here it was.
I wonder if they still have my master-piece?
They’ve got two nearly fully grown kids now, so I suspect it’s stashed away in the attic
along with their kiddos hand molded animal figurines and other family heirlooms 😉
Anyway, it’s a tad unusual to hear of romantic love in the Bible, but it’s in there.
Some people think the Bible is a bit bland, a bit esoteric, a bit obscure and irrelevant,
but I’m here to tell you it’s the most amazing Love Story that was ever written.
I mean I’m supposed to say that as a minister, but truly, IT IS!
I’m looking at a group of people whom I know and love and some of you
are in long, long marriages … what’s the longest 62, 64, 75 years … holy smokes!
Well those are long time periods, but do they compare to nearly 1,000 pages of writing
in the Old Testament or the stories of 14 generations of people?
That’s God’s Love Story for humanity, and that my friends is some tenacity.
Most of us would’ve gotten thoroughly worn out by that kind of sordid love affair.
But not God.
We humans are an ornery bunch, not prone to coming alongside even Divine Love so readily
and so God has to jump into our world in the life of Jesus Christ to win us over.
Which is why the biblical passage I just read from the book of James is a great companion
to the reading from Song of Solomon.
It implores us to ACT on what we HEAR.
And, it counsels us strongly on curbing any anger we may experience,
(which frankly if you or I were God in the scenario I just recounted,
you know 1,000 pages and 14 generations,
we might need to squelch a little ire).
I came across a quote attributed to Thomas Jefferson, which is sage advice:
“When angry, count to 10 before you speak. If very angry, count to 100.”
None of you have probably ever been that mad,
but just in case you find yourself in those shoes at some point, it’s decent counsel,
and exquisitely aligned with our text from the book of James.
When I remember to heed this message, my life goes more smoothly.
And a confession (which some of you already know):
sometimes I need to count a good bit past 100.
I walked away from a potential argument the other day for more than an hour,
which if I did my math correctly means counting to approximately 3,600.
The other thing I find that can be helpful in these situations is the use of humor.
Some of you know that I am currently living with an older adoptive ‘auntie’ named Barbara
… well, when she does something she wishes she hadn’t, say drop something on the floor,
she quips, “and for my next trick …” I just adore that, and it always makes us smile.
But back to the good counsel of Acting on what we Hear.
I love the way Eugene Peterson translates it …
“Lead with your ears, … THEN follow up with your tongue …”
Listen first. Listen to understand. Listen to let the other person’s story sit within you.
Until you’ve done that, there is no room for talking.
How would you know what to say?
Why would we think that anything we have to say will land well with the other,
especially if we’re in an argument, if we haven’t first listened well?
Again, listen here my very dear friends, the Bible does not disappoint!
In addition to being the world’s greatest Love Story
it imparts very wise counsel for our sometimes very ordinary lives!
I learned something new about the book of James at our session meeting this past week
(thank you, Kip!).
Kip once did some studies with a Muslim man who shared with him that the book of James
is the only book in the Christian Bible that is friendly toward,
or at least not offensive to people of other faiths.
I may have that slightly wrong,
but the overarching idea is that there is some interfaith openness here,
which is a beautiful thing in my way of thinking.
As many of you know, I’ve spent much of my career in positions
where an interfaith dialogue is a requirement,
and I find this rich and wonderful.
And, as a Christian minister, I LOVE that our Good Book welcomes that.
But the thing that the book of James (attributed to the writings of Jesus’ very own brother)
is probably most well-known for is the notion that, as the phrase goes:
‘Faith without works is dead.’
Some people find this very helpful,
especially, I suspect, those of us that appreciate a little practical advice.
Act on what you Hear, as we’ve already summed up today’s lesson,
is a good thing to remember.
Then again, the notion of Faith without Works flies in the face
of our very deep Christian understanding that you can’t earn God’s love,
and so working your tail off for it is a bit of a fool’s errand.
This is yet another demonstration of how rich and wonderful the Bible truly is.
It reminds us that we are so beloved that God would chase us
through hundreds of pages, recounting story after story!
Clearly, we (as a whole lot of us anyway) don’t appear to try to earn our salvation very well,
so it’s a darn good thing that we don’t have to.
That said, it doesn’t hurt when we participate in a congenial fashion. Does it?
I had a beautiful experience yesterday …
I stopped at a tea house to work on my sermon and stumbled upon a couple
who were trying to help a Monarch butterfly escape it’s entrapment inside.
The tenderness of the gesture drew me in …
it took us awhile, but we eventually got the task done.
This is a sweet example of acting on one’s faith …
living consistently with doing good by another and acting with patient perseverance.
This whole experience was made all the sweeter when after the blessed release
we were able to applaud each other for caring enough and making the time to help.
Eugene Peterson’s translation of the book of James refers to a person
who glances in a mirror but then immediately forgets what they look like.
This can be easy to do amidst the hustle and bustle of life.
Basic mirrors, even if we happen to be in front of one, don’t see our souls …
which are so much deeper, so much more interesting, and eternal.
To see with this depth, we sometimes need to be the Christ mirror for each other and say:
“when I see you, I see compassion, bravery, humor, creativity, loyalty, forgiveness,
endurance, wisdom, abundance and yes, okay, sometimes anger and self-willed deafness,
but even then, I see the potential in you that God sees.”
May we do so for each other.
Amen.
Blog post on August 15, 2024, the Day of the Assumption of Mary
If you haven’t heard of today’s holiday, the Assumption of Mary, you’re not alone. This Protestant Pastor hadn’t either. Luckily, I have a Catholic friend who lives in Paris and has the day off of work, so she told me all about it. On Aug. 15, Catholics around the world mark the solemnity of the Assumption of Mary, commemorating the end of her earthly life and assumption into heaven. Sounds like a good thing to celebrate … I mean that amazing woman didn’t have the easiest life on earth, ya know. Besides, when don’t the Parisian’s get a national holiday … especially after hosting an amazing Olympic Games?! God is good … just like I always tell you.
I am happy to report that ‘All Is Well’ in the World. Now, if all isn’t well in your world (notice the lower case ‘w’), then just wait a few minutes and to quote my dear ancient friend Julian of Norwich (from her tome, Revelations of Divine Love) ‘all shall be well, all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.’
It’s all a matter of perspective, I suppose. From where I sit (today at least), Life looks pretty good. I’m gazing on the beautiful Lake Tahoe, with it’s blue/green waves lapping on the shore beneath me. There are a few white caps, but for the most part it is serene and lovely, ringed with mountain ranges, which have been surrounding this beautiful body of water for ‘forever-and-a-day’ (a very scientific word coined by me personally, in my less than scientific view of the world).
Then again, I spoke with both of my parents this afternoon … they are young (mid-seventies), but it sounds like things really go south as we age. Dad claims that ‘Spam Risk’ is his best friend (or at least that’s who he gets the most phone calls from); and Mom failed the computer test her bank set up to see if she’s Human (apparently not … Lord, God Almighty … that’s a bitter pill for both of us). As for me, my one and only child arrived in Kansas to start college. I’m not there with him today, but I sent Toto to scope things out for me. I haven’t heard back yet … small black dogs aren’t always the most reliable informants. I’m just saying.
But how about you? I hope things are ‘Woefully Wonderful.’ Rumor has it, you could use a good day. My best advice … follow these little ducks … Huddle Up, my peeps! Life is always best when you’ve got your posse surrounding you.
Keep the Faith. Peace out for now.
Preached at Two Rock Valley and Tomales Presbyterian Church – July 21, 2024 – Based on Psalm 23 and Ephesians 2:11-22
Many years ago, I served as a deacon in my home church.
This was before I decided to go to seminary,
when I was still in the business world.
Having made that decision, I was attending one of my last deacon meetings
when the following happened.
A group of nearly 40 deacons sitting in a large circle,
spent close to 20 minutes discussing the type and size of disposable cups
we should use during fellowship hour.
The less environmentally friendly folks felt that Styrofoam was the way to go
as it would protect the hands of those drinking hot coffee.
However, someone readily pointed out that our call as Christians
is to be good stewards of the earth and suggested that paper was clearly preferable.
Then, one of our beloved bean counters presented the savings we would reap
if we purchased small cups versus large ones,
not just because we could purchase more cups for the same price,
but also because we would spend less on coffee on a weekly basis.
This raised the dander of someone who began to argue
that this would cause more spilling to happen,
because people would probably fill the cups to the brim
and those little-handed lemonade drinkers would wreak havoc
by making sticky stains on our lovely carpeting.
At this point, somebody advocated that we go ahead with the larger cups
but that we give special training to servers who would be directed
to fill the cups only halfway
so that those less stable of footing would have some wiggle room
for the beverages to slosh against the sides
instead of falling onto the ground.
As I witnessed this conversation my eyes must have widened to the size of saucers,
or dare I say maybe disgust registered all over my face.
As a junior manager in business, I wondered how in the world
we could possibly spend this much time discussing disposable cups.
When the meeting ended, the Associate Pastor for Congregational Care,
having not intervened in this very painful conversation,
walked up to me, patted me on the back and said,
“Welcome to leadership in the Church, Lisa!”
It’s a miracle of God, that I stand before you today …
In a much more serious manner,
the Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians,
speaks to the different perspectives we naturally find within the church.
Here Paul is writing to Jews and Gentiles.
While he lifts up the very different backgrounds they have,
he reminds them that they are now a part of the same family and the same house,
which is God’s family and God’s house.
We could spend considerable time this morning discussing the differences
between Jews and Gentiles,
the distinct histories they each had,
the fact that Jews had a long relationship with God,
manifesting in a strong identity as the people of Israel
and a solid understanding of God’s special covenant with them;
whereas the Gentiles were newly a part of the fold,
having come from different nations and places and not adhering to the same customs.
Similarly, we could review the ways in which we, here in this place
have many distinct perspectives based on our own histories.
Some of you grew up on ranches and farm land like all the beauty around us
(TOMALES: or in this sweet little town);
whereas others of you landed here from quite different parts.
We have some City Slickers here,
not from that great movie that came out in the 1990s,
but people who literally hail from San Francisco
and other so-called worldly places.
But rather than get caught up in distinctions,
deep significant ones or more trivial matters,
I’d rather ask us to consider what it means to be people of God.
Each one of us has a unique story about how we find ourselves here this morning.
There are as many different stories about that as there are different people gathered here.
Some of you were raised in the faith and can’t imagine any other place that you would be.
Some of you had a life-altering experience that brought you through these doors.
Some of you rolled out of bed with ease and excitement
and got ready to come and be among friends and family.
Some of you struggled to get here,
life being a challenge due to physical restraints or hard life circumstances
that are weighing you down.
But somehow, each of us got here today,
and the common denominator, ultimately, is Jesus Christ.
My sermon title is “A Dwelling Place for God,”
which is not the leave bit creative or original,
as these are the last five words in our scripture passage from Ephesians.
But, it is the description of that dwelling place,
which precedes those last few words of scripture
where I want to invite us to focus.
The church’s potential as a dwelling place for God depends on community,
on being joined together.
Much of what I read and studied about this passage from Ephesians
spoke about wiping out or breaking down that which divides us
so that we are truly One in Christ.
Yet, I’m not sure that should be our focus.
I don’t believe that erasing our differences is helpful, or even possible really.
It seems it would be much more productive to look at weaving our differences together.
We cannot be the One we are meant to be in Christ as individuals
without at the same time, being the many we surely are in the Church.
My opening story about a group of church folk attempting to select disposable cups,
while clearly embellished,
speaks to what makes church a unique witness in the world –
the fact that at our best, we ACTUALLY BELIEVE everyone’s voice has a place
and that by lifting up those distinct voices we will, … eventually, and with great patience,
make the best decision we can for our collective good.
When it comes to selecting cups,
or when we are gathered with like-minded folds,
we are generally able to speak our truth.
But, being good church folks, sometimes we’re too nice to speak about our differences.
It’s human nature to be conflict averse … at least a very many people are.
We can be silent about things that really matter,
which can be problematic in communal living.
When we fail to speak openly and honestly about what is deeply important to us,
we can live shallowly, which is ultimately not very fulfilling.
Out text today talks about being a dwelling place for God.
This is not just as individuals but as a community of faith.
In order to be that dwelling place,
we must be able to speak our own truth in love
and we must be able to bring those truths together so that we have a collective voice,
a larger picture, for God.
When I was initially thinking about a dwelling place for God,
I was thinking about a peaceful place,
and yet, sometimes God sits smack dab in the middle of our messes.
In fact, Christ did just that over and over and over again.
It’s actually, if we are truthful, I think,
why we love and respect him so very much.
Listen to this unique translation of Psalm 23 from Emily Bernardi,
which I heard a couple of weeks ago when attending the Memorial service
for the Rev. Linda Powers, a dear friend of this congregation,
and a woman who was notorious for coming alongside people
that not everyone would find easy to love …
“The Lord is my best friend,
the one who takes care of me, heals me and feeds me.
That is why I always have more than enough.
He has offered me a resting place in His luxurious love
and that is where I am learning to abide and stay.
As I listen and follow Him,
He leads me daily to an oasis of peace and the quiet brook of bliss.
This is where he restores and revives my life.
He opens before me the pathways to God’s pleasure and leads me along –
so that I can bring honor to His name.
If I go His speed and follow Him daily,
and continue to abide in Him, learning to carry His presence,
my life will bring Him all of the honor He could ever want of me.
Even when the path takes me through the valley of the deepest darkness
(not talking about personal attacks against my family and things or me),
fear will never conquer me.
He always remains close to me and leads me.
The comfort of His love takes away every fear, and I am never lonely.
His authority is my strength and peace.
The One who created the entire universe is the One who is with me,
on my side, always with me to help me.
The Lord is my delicious feast, even when the enemy dares to fight.
My life is anointed with the fragrance of the Holy Spirit.
He gives me all I can drink of Himself until my heart overflows.
This is the presence I carry and changes and transforms the atmosphere around me.
Why would I fear the future?
His goodness and love pursue me all of my days,
and I will live in His presence forever.”
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Well, what a day, … what a week, … what a time we’re in. If you follow me (Ha!), it’s been awhile since I’ve chimed in on anything …
I have a friend at church who reminded me recently that it is smart to listen, more then talk. I’ve been binging on music from the musical Hamilton lately and there’s a character in the show that says the same thing to Hamilton … so apparently this is age-old advice (“Talk less, smile more”). I agree, … except that I’m a preacher for a living, so that doesn’t work very well. Lord help me. Lord, help us all.
What are we to do? We’re starving for some positive attention, most of us, anyway, … I think. If we find a kind soul willing to listen, don’t we want to talk? I mean we’re weathering a really crazy world right now. A very crazy world. Extroverts, and introverts too, need to process things a bit with kind, trust-worthy souls … hopefully you have a few in your personal world.
I was talking with a friend the other day on the phone and for some reason I thought of God (you know the old grandfather-type in the sky) and I said I think He’s sitting up there from on high looking down on us like a bunch of ants, or cars (you know, like when you are in an airplane that is descending or ascending and you can make out some ‘individual’ entities). I picture God looking down from above and thinking to Himself (or Herself), “Oh dear God, what have I set into motion by creating these little creatures?! Look at how violently they are crashing into each other! Oh no, what did I do? How can I help? This is a disaster!!”
Well, I (Lisa) can only pray fervently that God has a plan for this … for all of us. I am a minister after all and I do have to have a little faith. I try anyway. Most days.
My beautiful son is 18 years old. It’s a travesty. I hate it … I know he needs to grow up and really I love seeing how amazing he is as a young man, but it’s hard and scary to let a kid go. So, being the feisty mom that I am I reminded him last night that even though he is 18 and even though he is about to move across country and go to college, he still doesn’t know ANYTHING. Like the good young man I raised him to be he said, “Yes, I know, mom.” Of course he knows plenty of things and I know that he knows things that I don’t understand … truth be told he can run circles around me. Well, only physically, but that’s because I have a hip injury from a fall at work … but I won’t go down that rabbit hole.
Truth is … we all need some good friends, a Good God, and a whole heck of a lot of faith if we’re going to make our way though this tight spot we’re in. So hang on friends. And look for friends anywhere they might come. Just look at these cuties I met along my drive home yesterday. Notice their eagerness, and dare I say wisdom? They know they need connection. Maybe they think I have food, … but still there’s wisdom in that, right?!
Peace out for now.
