Think about what you believe. Then see if you believe what you think. 

by Rev. James Briney

I like what Jesus did.  He noticed what was going on for others, did what he could and moved on.  Jesus did what he did as a matter of faith.  He lived for what he believed and he died for what he believed.  But his last words indicate that he did not know if it was worth it:  “My God why have you forsaken me.”  Jesus understood that when you know the right thing to do, but are not certain of the outcome, do it anyway.  That’s all any of us can do.  

A challenge of ministry is the futility of it all.  If it weren’t for so darn many flawed human beings, clergy would be out of business.  More congregations would be extinct and forming community would be left to amateurs.  Professionally—or not—the key is to minister.  Show up.  Be present.  Be in the practice of ministry, not the ministerial business. 

The major religions of the world have one thing in common.  No one knows anything.  Religious practices are based on faith and belief, not proof and knowledge.  We all are just trying to figure out where we come from, why we are here, and where we are going.  The best we can do is employ words and symbols to express such concerns.  

I like who Jesus was, and is.  He still is, and will continue to be, for as long as he is remembered, thought about, and talked about.  Jesus was anointed as the messiah by those who recognized him as the King of Kings, the Prince of Peace, the Lord of Lords, and the Son of God; not the Caesars, who claimed those titles for themselves. 

When Jesus was confronted by the law-givers, who were out to do him in, he did not say he was the ‘only’ way to be in relationship with God.  Jesus said: “I am the way.”  I take that to mean, I am the way to be.  Be the way I am. 

Jesus is not some sort of magic man who did things we can’t do.  He was not being modest when he said:  “You will do greater things than I.”  Jesus understood, hoped for, and trusted that every person is capable of being and becoming the soul that God intends for them to be. 

It is tempting to give up on humanity, or to blame God in the context of overwhelming tragedies, horrors, and sorrows.  It is seductive to settle for a life of distractions that prevent us from thinking about that which matters most.  

I am a person of faith.  I believe there is more to life than life itself, perhaps experienced in the afterlife as manifestations of consciousness and energy.  I once told an atheist who ridiculed my faith, to try to be gracious should he meet God face to face.   

God has given all of Creation everything we need.  Everything in this world that is wrong, unfair, hostile, and unjust is on us.  Trust the Spirit that is Holy within you.  All that you experience and all that you do is part of the Eternal. 

There is no my god, your god, or our god.  There is one God, by a variety of names.  The Church is a flawed institution, not the Kingdom of God.  Individuals that understand the basics, fundamentals, and particulars of their own faith—and the faith of others—give me some hope.   

It’s scary to contemplate our fate and to wonder where we came from, why we are here and where we are going.  But do it anyway.  When you are satisfied that you have all the answers start over.  Think about what you believe.  Then see if you believe what you think. 

Over 25 years of ordained ministry the Reverend James Briney served congregations in Indiana, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Arizona. Early on, Jim earned degrees in Philosophy and Theology.  He is retired and living in Oro Valley.  (Photo by: Lou Waters.)

Being Soul-Centered

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

In his book, Soul Keeping, author John Ortberg writes about caring for the soul. He explains that Jesus calls us to a deep life, a life that pushes beyond everyday desires and interests. In one chapter, he describes how the soul needs a center; and I was particularly drawn to the idea that without a center, the soul is easily thrown, easily distracted, and easily destroyed.

Ortberg tells the story of being with friends at an open-air street market and how they all were drawn to a mechanical bull. Ortberg is talked into riding and reluctantly agrees to give it a try; but before he jumps on, he is given a few instructions.

“’There are twelve levels of difficulty on this bull,’ the operator explained. It might not be all that easy, but the key is you have to stay centered, and the only way to do that is to sit loose. People try to clamp on too tight. Don’t do that. You have to be flexible. If you think you can be in control of the ride you’ll never make it. You have to follow the bull. You have to keep moving. Shift your center of gravity as the bull moves.’”

Ortberg successfully managed to stay on the bull for a few minutes, thinking he had mastered every move of the mechanical animal, feeling quite pleased with himself and what he imagined was a natural ability to ride and not fall off. After the nods and smiles of congratulations from his friends, he turned to the operator, expecting some high praise. Instead what he heard was, “That was level one.” And Ortberg was soon taken to level two. He writes, “Level two lasted maybe a second. The bull won.”

We can ride a long time in level one. It’s not that hard to hang on and get through the easy, slow bumps in life. It’s when we’re hit with real suffering, thrown about in fits and starts by an uncontrollable ride that we really come to find out just how centered we really are and just how flexible we can be.

These are not easy days for any of us and we are truly being tested with how long we can ride, how easily we can hold onto to our faith without needing to control. We are in a season of rough riding and perhaps it is a season that can remind us to find our center, to stay connected to what feeds our souls, to loosen our grip on how we think things should go, trust that even if we fall, we land in grace, and then just stay engaged, stay in the ride for as long as it takes.

As we continue to watch wars escalate in the world, gun violence increase, suffering grow, let us dig deep, find the center of our souls, breathe into the moment and ride.

We are not alone.