Put it to death

“Sometimes things need to be destroyed so that something new can be created.” So my spiritual director said to me on the first occasion of our meeting–a meeting I had sought as I desperately tried to make sense of my growing understanding that my marriage was coming to an end. 

I recently came upon that same idea in the book we’re discussing in our Sunday morning Adult Education class, [Where We Meet: A Lenten Study of Systems, Stories, and Hope, by Rachel Gilmore, Candace Lewis, Tyler Sit, and Matt Temple]: “Sometimes things must die so that something more in harmony with the (kin)dom of God can emerge.” (Where We Meet, p. 50)

Certainly, that idea is not new, nor is it limited to those two occurrences! Indeed, those statements encapsulate a central tenet of the Christian faith: that resurrection comes only after death. That new life comes only after something dies. That rebirth into a new way of being comes only after the old way of being is no more.

And while we might long for that resurrection while it’s still far off, and welcome that new life once it comes, and celebrate that new way of being once we’re in it–we generally do not like the prospect of “it” [the thing that needs to die, whatever it is] being no more; we’re typically quite resistant to the process of it dying; we’re quite uncomfortable with the reality of its death

And yet…it is only through death that we get to resurrection. 

And so, in these remaining two weeks of Lent, I invite you to join me in considering, what is it that needs to die in our lives so that something new–and more in alignment with God’s desires for peace, for healing, for joy, for reconciliation, for wholeness, for justice, for abundance–and all of that for all of God’s creation!–might be born? 

Perhaps we need to put to death a grudge, or a desperately-held, long-harbored hurt. Or our certainty about what’s right and who’s right. Or a hurtful relationship or a self-destructive habit. 

Perhaps we need to put to death a diminished view of ourselves or others, or possibly, a grandiose view of ourselves or others. Or the lens through which we look, that judges others as less than–or more than–based on their education or ethnicity or religious affiliation or lack thereof. Or our blindness to our privilege or our secret and subtle self-righteousness. 

Perhaps we need to put to death our secret, soul-sucking excesses–alcohol, shopping, fault-finding, Facebook, working, gambling, people-pleasing, eating, or simply endlessly comparing ourselves to others. 

What would you add? What needs to die in our lives, both individually and collectively, right here and right now, so that something new and more in alignment with God’s desires for each of us and all of us and for all of God’s creation might be born? 

Where do we need death, so that we might prepare for and truly experience resurrection?? 

Peace and courage be with us all.

Pastor Deb

You started out as dirt

by Rev. Deb Beloved Church

“You are dust, and to dust you shall return.” (Genesis 3:19b) 

Some version of that verse is typically said as the sign of the cross is being made with ashes on someone’s forehead on Ash Wednesday. 

For example, as I was “ashing” folks who came to White Rock Presbyterian Church last Wednesday, I said this: “Remember–you came from dust, and to dust you will return…” 

[Each year I think maybe I’ll use the late Rev. Eugene Peterson’s interpretation as found in The Message: “You started out as dirt, you’ll end up dirt.” That strikes me as even more powerful! It is, in fact, what I said when I blessed the horses of a friend the next day, using actual dirt from the ground on which we were standing… Maybe next year I’ll use it with the two-legged creatures, and see how it lands for us all…]

“Tempranillo, remember that you came from dirt,

and to dirt you will return…”

And since this year Ash Wednesday happened to also be Valentine’s Day, here’s another way to think about it: 

At first glance, it seemed strange to have those two holidays (or more better, perhaps, holy days) fall on the same date, but looking back, I can’t help but reflect that perhaps it was truly a gift… 

Might the occurrence of our cultural celebration of loving and being loved on the same day that we who are people of faith intentionally acknowledge our mortality, somehow enhance both of those central aspects of our humanity–the relational albeit finite nature of our existence? 

None of our human loves—whether of a child, parent, partner, sibling, cousin, friend, etc., or a non-human companion—will last forever. We will all someday die, and those loves in their present form will come to an end. All living things are mortal and finite.

And while that truth can be heartbreakingly painful to acknowledge, might it also make our loving more sweet? Might it make our time together more cherished? Might it make our conflicts more critical to resolve? Might it generate more urgency for us to show up more fully and more authentically? Might it make us more grateful for the opportunities we have to love and be loved? 

Hmmm…

We are approaching the second Sunday of Lent already; Ash Wednesday feels like a distant memory. Perhaps as we move further into this holy season, we can not only consider our mortality, not only allow greater recognition of our sin, not only attempt to see with greater clarity the ways we hide our true selves, not only make more deliberate efforts to turn back to God… But we can also hold on to and celebrate that in the midst of our flawed, finite, and finicky humanity, we love and are loved by the humans and non-humans in our lives, and by God.

Yes, we are dust and to dust we will return. Yes, we started out as dirt and we’ll end up dirt. Yes, we were born and we will die. We. will. die

And…in the midst of that—and before that, and after that, and beyond that—we are loved. We are loved absolutely, and unconditionally, and unceasingly, by the God who created us out of dust, and who created the dust. 

Thanks be to God!

“Seen by [the James] Webb [Space Telescope] in unprecedented detail, Sagittarius C is a star-forming region about 300 light-years away from the supermassive black hole at the Milky Way’s center. (https://www.flickr.com/photos/nasawebbtelescope/53344798019/in/gallery-zexonaz-72157720865766128/)

Return to the deep sources

by Rev. Talitha Arnold, Senior Pastor, United Church of Santa Fe

Return to the deep sources, nothing less
Will nourish the torn spirit, the bewildered heart. . .
Will teach the stiff hands a new way to serve,
To carve into our lives the forms of tenderness.

“Return to the deep sources,” wrote poet May Sarton. “Nothing less will nourish the torn spirit, the bewildered heart.” The seasons of the Christian calendar—Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Easter, and Pentecost—Lent can lead us back to such deep sources. Whether we live in New Mexico or elsewhere, the Christian seasons call us to particular places—a stable in Bethlehem, a wedding in Cana, the courts of Herod, and a hill called Calvary. Sometimes the journey to such places can be hard. But, it also holds the promise of healing and strength, even new life.

In the Middle Ages, Christians went on pilgrimages to the holy places of the Christian story, like Jerusalem or Rome. For those who couldn’t undertake such treks, cathedrals had labyrinths as a way to go on pilgrimage without leaving home.

The liturgical year of the Christian church offers us a “pilgrimage in time.” Like those medieval journeys to Jerusalem or the labyrinth’s path to the sacred center, the Christian year calls us time and again to find our place alongside people like Moses in the Sinai wilderness or Mary at Calvary. With them, we find our way home to God, be it from the slavery of Egypt or the grief of the cross.

Lent in particular calls us to return to the deep sources. Step into the sanctuary and you know you’re in a different world from the week just past. Gone are the colors and candles of Epiphany and Mardi Gras, replaced with a purple banner with a thin red cross in its center. Just as we give up things for Lent, the sanctuary itself is stripped-down to its essence this season.

The same is true musically. For six weeks, we neither sing nor say “Alleluia” or “Hallelujah.” Monastic chants, spirituals from a time of suffering, hymns from the heart—the music is often in a minor key, sometimes a cappella. Services end with no postlude.

We use ancient prayers of confession, with phrases like “lost and strayed” or “erred from thy ways.” They sound harsh and unfamiliar, just like the barrenness of the sanctuary and the dissonance of the music.

And that’s the point. When we come to worship in Lent, we know we are in the wilderness and we’re going to be there for a while.

But when we come to this Lenten wilderness, we also know we’re not alone. Lent begins with Jesus in the desert, where he wrestles with his demons, faces his temptations, and finds his angels. He also finds the deep sources of his courage and hope. May we find the same this Lent.

As writer Frederick Buechner says about Lent, “if sackcloth and ashes are at the start of it, something like Easter may be at the end.”

This Lent, let us take that life-giving journey together.

Informed, Balanced, and Not Saturated: Self-Care During This Election Year

by Kay Klinkenborg, member, Church of the Palms

The American public has been ‘saturated’ by the news of the upcoming political party primaries and the 2024 presidential election for over a year.  If you are like the majority of US citizens, we have been experiencing election induced stress since 2016 3,4,5.  It is not a formal diagnosis 3, but these are intense times in our country, and I recommend we be intentional about taking care of ourselves emotionally and in doing that we can be balanced with ourselves spiritually and physically.  (I don’t separate spiritual care from emotional care…some people do).

Saturation…an experiencing to the boiling point; something about to run amok; can’t hear anymore and don’t know what to do with the information I have already.  Oxford Dictionary describes it “as much as can be absorbed”.   I am recommending we learn to set some boundaries, be pro-active in this election year and not reach saturation; and when we recognize that is beginning, we activate choices to keep ourselves informed and balanced.

In our capitalistic world, self-care is often seen as selfish…not true. Jessica Young Brown Licensed Clinical Psychologist writes in Duke University’s Divinity School “News & Ideas” blog:

“Self-care is a multifaceted act of stewardship, which attends to multiple life demands. Self-care entails building a system of practices to support our living the rich and satisfying life that Jesus talks about in John 10 … ‘I have come that you may have life more abundantly’. It is an evolving process, in conversation with the Holy Spirit, that honors the whole person.”1

I researched self-care during election years … nothing new has shown up since 2022.  This tells me … we have been living in a ‘constant state of stress’ for several years.  Most people reading this article understand self-care: diet, exercise, sleep, etc.  I am offering some new ideas to consider and you decide what to incorporate.

STOP DOOMSCROLLING: PUT THE PHONE DOWN

A relative new word in our culture, Cole Arthur Riley, author of Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems and Meditations for Staying Human has a chapter in this book “For Those Who Doomscroll”.  She writes: “God … remind us that there is much the world needs, including our attention to atrocity—but if we watch the world burn for long enough, the fire becomes our only reality.”2,3,4

Set boundaries on scanning for updates on your phone. It becomes addictive to need the newest update of the news. Remember before cell-phones, we got news one time a day in the evening, or through the daily newspaper. This abnormal attachment creates an unconscious anxiety, constant vigilance and apprehension if we aren’t up to the minute on the latest development. In fact: “The excessive consumption of news and social media predicts poorer long-term mental health during times of crisis.”3

CONTROL COMPUTER, TV, and PRINT CONSUMPTION

Limit how many news shows you watch a day.  In reality, why would need an hourly check-in … ? We don’t.  We have been unconsciously conditioned to think we are going to miss something if we don’t stay up to date.  It is recommended you select two times a day to watch a portion of news. It is also recommended you not watch news at least one hour before going to bed.  The last thing you put in your mind influences your quality of sleep and dreams.  Screen-light of phones, I-Pads, computers is not good for getting to sleep and staying asleep.  One hour disconnect prior to bed is recommended.

When reading ask: ‘Is this article helpful?’ and ‘Is this article real (or reflective of my own truth)?’ If you answer ‘no’ to either of those questions, give yourself permission to move on from it.5 Also ask, is this making me more anxious?  If so, lay it down.  You know the information you’ve gleaned thus far, trust yourself.

AVOID ‘WORSE CASE SCENARIO’ THINKING

Good news doesn’t bring customers to the TV, media or networks.  Bad news, sensationalism, repetitive telling of news increases viewership.  ‘Worst case scenarios’, or ‘what if…’ keeps us wired with adrenaline and living unconsciously with anxiety. A personal opinion, news shows do a lot of speculation, bringing in experts attempting to predict the next scenario. We can think for ourselves, draw conclusions and questions. Why sit listening to continuous speculations about events … that is not stewardship of our time. 

Catastrophic thinking is a learned behavior for many of us.  Previously in our life it served a purpose to help us be emotionally prepared for the ‘worst case scenario and not be caught off guard.’  We can change that thinking.  We can learn to stop catastrophic thinking and thus significantly reduce the anxiety we are unconsciously living with. That type of stress is not good for our bodies.  It creates a lot of ‘cortisol (adrenalin) dumping’ that is physically harmful.

KNOW YOUR ‘RANGE OF INFLUENCE’

Being informed voters is our responsibility. We can accomplish that while doing self-care.

Each of us determines with our physical and emotional energy what we can do to be involved politically. We need to honor each other’s choices of how to stay engaged. We might be actively working a phone line, writing emails/letters to state and federally elected officials, we might be lifting our concerns in prayer, or making financial contributions.  It matters not what you do … it is that you make a choice.

We cannot control politics at large; BUT we have voice. That is our democratic system. Not having control of the outcome personally is hard for most of us.  Learning to live with ambiguity is a spiritual practice.  Living without knowing … we call that practicing faith.  We come learning how to do that; thus we need to continue practicing.

“Most of the political climate is not controlled by us nor can we change other’s beliefs or feelings around it. Accepting the idea that we can only control ourselves and change things for us is a powerful reminder to not get caught up ruminating on the unchangeable and the uncontrollable. It is important to point the finger inward and ask, ‘What about this can I change and control?’ before you get caught up in the stress of it all.”5

MOVE

One of the more important things I learned as a counselor helping others under stress, what ever the cause … movement changes thinking.  If you get up and go to another room, you have activated new neurocircuits … you see things differently because you literally aren’t in the same location.  You interpret things differently because you have created a surge of fresh oxygen through your body. Do a different activity. Go for a walk.  Raise your arms in the air ten times in a row. MOVE.  It will shift something within you, and you can regroup.  (Resources 2-6 suggested this as one of their priorities in self-care during election times).

CONNECT

Reach out to trusted friends. Find a discussion group or create one. Do not go this year of stress alone.  The US and the world are at a heightened level of stress and concern like our generation hasn’t witnessed before.  Community is vital to stay grounded, in touch with self, receive feedback, and receive compassion from others.

GRATITUDE

If you are not in the practice of keeping a gratitude journal, or at least verbally lifting up gratitude once a day … it a marvelous time to start.  Things are tough right now.  It is hard to know the reality of what is happening in the world, our country, our state, our county, etc.  Plus, we are living our own personal experiences we are processing in the midst of this year.  Gratitude owning keeps me more balanced quickly than almost any other tool I use for self-care.  Own our blessings, lift up thanksgiving.         

We are all more blind to what we have than to what we have not. –Audre Lorde

We can do this hard year.  We will find our way.  We can walk this path.  We are not alone.

“I can do all things through {the} Christ who strengthens me.” –Philippians 4:13 (KJV)

My prayer for us this year:

Dear God, may we challenge ourselves this year to stay informed of the critical issues.  Guide us in practicing stewardship with balanced and wise use of time, energy and self-care. Guide us to catch when we are reaching saturation with the noise of the naysayers, too much media.  Remind us to intentionally move to positive choices; not trapped in catastrophic thinking or mistrust of our own truth. May we claim the inherent good within each of us and lean into our faith and humankind’s capacity for compassion and justice.  Amen

1 Young-Brown, Jessica (2023).  “Self-Care is Not Self-Soothing”; May 2, https://leadership@divduke.edu.

2  Riley, Cole Arthur (2024). Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems and Meditations for Staying Human.

3 “Mental Health and Wellness: Coping with Election-Related Stress”. Berkeley University Heath:

https://uhs.berkeley.edu/mental-health-and-wellness-coping-election-related-stress

4 Stieg, Corey, (2020) CNBC Report:

https://www.cnbc.com/2020/10/07/study-american-adults-report-election-stress-anxiety-tips.html

5  Managing Your Mental Health in An Election Year”, (2020).

      https://blog.umd.edu/terpstakecare/managing-your-mental-health-in-an- election-year/  Univ of Maryland.

6 “Self-Care Tips for an Election Year”; (Updated: May 20, 2022). Colibri Collective:

https://www.thecolibricollective.com/post/self-care-tips-for-an-election-year

© Kay F. Klinkenborg, MA (January, 2024)

     Spiritual Director; Member Spiritual Directors International; Author & Poet

     Retired: RN; LMFT; Clinical Member AAMFT    

Living A Different Story: A Message From Jerusalem

Kay Klinkenborg at Church of the Palms UCC sent us this article and knows Elie Pritz, the author of this piece, who lives and works in Jerusalem. She was raised there and is a Christian who, 10 years ago, founded a NGO to work on peace curriculum in teaching children K-12 non-violent options and peace building. Elie has lived her entire life in Jerusalem, has an American father and Swiss mother. Her pain about the issues in Palestine/Israel is palpable. She wrote this for her December newsletter.

It was about a month after the war started that I walked into Hand in Handa Hebrew-Arabic school in Jerusalem. We had originally planned to meet on October 9th, which clearly didn’t happen after the war broke out on October 7th. I was surprised when, a month later, they contacted me and asked if we could try again. Wasn’t their plate already ridiculously full, trying to keep a school like theirs running during a war? But we set a date and time, and two days later I was sitting inside the principal’s office, preparing to talk to her and one of the English teachers about our Peace Heroes program.

Bilingual schools (Hebrew and Arabic) are very rare in Israel. The vast majority of schools are sector based: secular Israeli Jewish schools, religious Jewish schools, Palestinian Israeli (Muslim and Christian) schools. Schools don’t integrate. The nine bilingual schools dispersed throughout the country are an anomaly—a place where Jewish and Palestinian Israelis can learn together in one another’s languages.

Peace Heroes' founder and program director, Elie Pritz.
Peace Heroes’ founder and program director, Elie Pritz. 

I could only imagine how recent events would have greatly strained this mixed school community. So I asked the Jewish Israeli principal how this war has affected them. 

“Look,” she said, “we’re in a war. And our students represent both sides of this war. It’s hard. But unlike some other organizations, we don’t have the privilege of going into ourselves right now, to reflect on the situation and decide how to move forward. Our students are coming to school every day. We have to figure this out every day.”

The English teacher, a Palestinian Israeli, said: “After October 7th I didn’t want to come in to work. But I chose to come anyway. Every day I wake up and I make that choice all over again—the choice to be here…It’s not easy, but it’s my choice. It’s the choice every single one of us in this school is making.”

We spent the next hour talking about Peace Heroes, brainstorming ways they could make it part of their school program. It was the first time in a month I felt inspired and even hopeful. Here is a school that is doing the hard (hard!) work of figuring out how to live life together. Here is a school that understands, at an existential level, how crucial it is to raise the next generation of leaders in this land to be pursuers of peace and mutual thriving. They loved the idea of using stories of Peace Heroes from all over the world—as well as from the region—to not only model to their students how to navigate really hard things while still upholding the dignity of all people, but also to open up difficult conversations around identity, justice, and security within the safe space of storytelling.

At the end of the meeting the principal told me that our hour together felt like oxygen to the soul. I understood what she meant. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe again, even if only for a moment. To be in the room together with people who, like me, were making a supreme effort to swim against the tide that in this moment is dividing not only the people of this land but also of the world, brought me to tears. Tears of relief in feeling that there are others who are doing what is possibly one of the hardest and most isolating things to do in a war: fighting to stay united, to be in relationship, to be mutually empathetic to and supportive of one another’s identity as well as experience of the nightmare we are all living through.

October 7th and its aftermath is changing our landscape in a way that will take us years to fully understand. In the days following the beginning of the war, people everywhere asked me to tell them how I was doing, to explain to them what was happening. It felt impossible. I was stunned into silence, completely unable to articulate the chaos, trauma, fear, and grief we were all suddenly plunged into. And yet, even while I sat in this stunned silence, I was completely taken aback by the onslaught of divisive and damaging words being spewed out by people around the world, aimed at one or other of the communities in this land. This tsunami of hate-filled words quickly spiraled me down into a despairing depression. I felt as voiceless as I’ve ever felt, and so alone in my desire to push forward another narrative, to tell a different story.

But slowly, I began to hear other voices speaking the words I could not speak—local peacemakers, both Israeli and Palestinian, whose stories I had written, whose organizations I had been following since the days I had started my journey with Peace Heroes more than a decade ago.* These people were articulating what I could not: the unbelievable pain of the moment we suddenly found ourselves in, AND the absolute necessity of upholding the dignity of all the people in this place. Their voices anchored me the way nothing else could. They gave me solid ground to stand on and brought me back to myself and to what I knew to be true: that violence is our common enemy, and that taking a stand against violence and its dehumanizing effects is the only way we will ever come out of this moment with our humanity still intact.

Words matter. They matter so much. Words can break our world or they can remake it. It took me a few weeks to connect the dots (blame the war—it messes with one’s ability to think logically), but it finally dawned on me that I do have life giving words. I’ve been writing them for a decade, telling the stories of people from all over the world—as well as from Israel and Palestine—who have faced devastating situations and have chosen to be a light in the darkness, a force for healing rather than division, hate, and fear. Voices that will never stop trying to remake our world.

From Hand in Hand’s website

Hand in Hand school is one of these voices. They understand the toxicity of the space we are living in, and the urgency of raising our voice to tell (and live) a different story. Peacemakers are often the first to be sidelined in a war, but I believe it is precisely these people who are doing the hardest work of all: the work of daily choosing to live out a different reality. A reality that says to people across the divide: “You matter, and I will live my life in a way that manifests this conviction and upholds your dignity as well as mine, no matter what.” This is the only reality that promises any kind of viable and shared future in this land. 

As this year comes to a close it is my deepest hope that we will all follow in the footsteps of these peacemakers. May we live a different story–one that daily chooses to remake our broken world. 

A Reflection for the New Year

by Rev. Deborah Beloved Church

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

(Ecclesiastes 3:1; King James Version)

Familiar words to many (thanks in no small part to the Byrds! For the full Biblical version, click here:  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, KJV), and words that seem fitting for this time of bidding farewell to 2023 and bidding welcome to 2024.

As we reflect on the year that has come to a close, and take our first steps into yet another “new” one, perhaps it might be helpful to remember: 

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…” 

As we remember the ups and the downs of the year that has ended–the pleasant and the unpleasant, the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly, and everything in-between, let us not feel drawn to claim only the “ups”–the pleasant, the good, and the beautiful (and hope for more of all of that in the coming year); and judge or feel shame or want to hide or deny the “downs”–what feels unpleasant, bad, and ugly (and long for less of all of that in the year that’s just begun). Rather, let us remember:

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

May we acknowledge and hold with tenderness the times of grief and sadness, as we also give thanks for those of joy and delight…

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

May we acknowledge and hold with kindness the reality of our exhaustion, as we also give thanks for momentary surges of energy…

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

May we acknowledge and hold with gentleness the expressions of heartache and anger, as we also give thanks for manifestations of compassion and generosity…

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

May we acknowledge and hold with grace the moments of anxiety and fear, as well as those of trust and abiding love…

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

May we hold space for it all, with tenderness and kindness, with gentleness and grace–for ourselves, for our loved ones, for our neighbors, and even for those we consider our enemies. May we hold space for it all, with vulnerability and with courage, recognizing that, indeed…

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

And as we hold space or it all, may we also recognize those seasons that have nourished us, and those that have depleted us. May we see those experiences that have caused our souls to wither and shrivel, and those that have caused our hearts to blossom and expand. May we acknowledge those occasions that have led us to shake our fist at God and rage against the universe, and weep and wail and withdraw, as well as those in which we have found ourselves engaging and rejoicing and giving thanks at the beauty and wonder of it all…

“To every thing there is a season, 

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

As we reflect on the year that has come to a close, and take our first steps into yet another “new” one, perhaps it might be helpful to not only remember that, but also to remember… 

As people of faith we claim and proclaim 

that in every season and in every time, 

God, the Maker of Heaven and Earth

God, Creator of all that is

God, who was and is and is to come

God, who took on flesh and walked among us as Jesus of Nazareth

God, who dwells in all persons as the Holy Spirit

God, Emmanuel…

is with us! 

Now and forever and always. 

Thanks be to God!

And Happy New Year!

A Christmas Prayer

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

God, make me more like Mary. So simply radiant in her reply to Your news.

So confident in what You can do, what You will do through her,

to bring forth love into the world.

So faithful to the invitation.

Let me believe as she believed.

And more like the shepherds, attentive to the vulnerable,

my life’s purpose to care.

Teach me to be still,

to acknowledge there are angels in the night sky

and to be as fearless as they were to run and see what they were told,

to leave my place and bear witness to miracles both on earth and above it.

Let me know when an angel calls.

God, let me be like them too, the angels with a song that will not be contained,

joy filling my heart until it spills out in music and laughter.

To be willing to keep telling the news, the good news, the life-affirming news,

God is right here! God is among us!

Let me share the message of hope.

And finally there are the wise men, people. I’d say.

Make me more like them, unwilling to put aside what I know to be true,

to put it all the line and journey the path of stardust because I must.

Because I cannot not go.

Help me to be willing to do whatever is necessary to find the truth,

even if it requires leaving comfort and familiarity,

to bring gifts because I will recognize goodness when I see it.

Let me go where I am led to go.

On this Christmas, O God,

open my heart to Your messages,

my spirit to Your call.

Let me find what You have made possible,

and honor Your miracles of Love.

All Shall Be Well: “While We Are Waiting, Come” 

Rev. Deb Beloved Church 

“While we are waiting, come; while we are waiting, come.
Jesus, our Lord, Emmanuel, while we are waiting, come.”

“With power and glory, come; with power and glory, come.
Jesus, our Lord, Emmanuel, while we are waiting, come.”

“Come, Savior, quickly come; come, Savior, quickly come.
Jesus, our Lord, Emmanuel, while we are waiting, come.”

These are the lyrics of an Advent hymn (entitled, appropriately, “While We Are Waiting, Come”) that we’ve been singing at White Rock Presbyterian Church, during these weeks of Advent, as a prayer before the scripture lessons for the day are read and the sermon, preached. [Click here to hear it sung by the Morgan State University Choir.] 

It seems to encapsulate a lovely prayer for Advent:  

Come to us, Lord Jesus, while we are waiting for the celebration of your birth. Come with power and glory and be with us. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and save us. Amen! 

During Advent, it is my prayer that God will indeed come to us while we are waiting–waiting during this holy season for the God who has already come, to come to us yet again…waiting in stolen moments of stillness and longing, alone and with one another, for glimpses of healing and wholeness…waiting in the midst of this world so busy and angry and loud and hurting, for whispers of peace and shimmers of Light…  

While we are waiting, Lord Jesus, come… 

During Advent, it is my prayer that God will indeed come to us with power and glory–power that stirs hope and courage within us…glory that moves us to awe and wonder…power and glory that wake us from our mindless stumbling through our lives to alertness and awakeness…glory and power that call us to be on the lookout for prophetic truth and deep beauty and redeeming love…  

While we are waiting, Lord Jesus, come… 

During Advent, it is my prayer that God will indeed come to us quickly–that God will save us from our comfort with complacency–quickly! That God will save us from our familiar temptations–quickly! That God will save us from our hardness of heart and our secret smugness and superiority–quickly! That God will save us from our blindness (whether chosen or unconsidered) to the Reality of all that is Holy, all around us, and within all of us–quickly.  

While we are waiting, Lord Jesus, come… 

Come to us, Lord Jesus, while we are waiting for the celebration of your birth. Come with power and glory and be with us. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and save us. Amen! 

It’s a lovely prayer for Advent for us who are people of faith.  

Indeed, it seems a prayer of Love for all seasons, and for all people. 

May the witness of Jesus the Christ, in whom we see what it can be to live and love, teach and touch, laugh and cry, bless and curse, heal and pray, fully embodying the Divine Love that is God–call us all to greater courage, greater truth, greater wholeness, and greater Love, in our lives and in our world. It is so desperately needed. 

Merry Christmas! 

And amen. 

The Owls, The Holy One, and Me

by Jane Jones

(A prayer for anyone who feels sadness at this time)

As I write this (in the pre-dawn of a wintery day), I hear the dialogue of two owls close to my home; two different voices, quietly calling back and forth.  What a blessing, to be in a space where this is even possible!

I’m grateful for my home and what it brings to me in terms of peacefulness and escape from the outside world where the busy-ness abounds, and where some of my former life remains without me.

I need to keep reminding myself that I’m in a good place…that being on my own isn’t horrible…that I’m loved and included, if not by a family that once filled my life with joy, then by many dear, generous (and patient!) friends who know me well – and love me anyhow.  That, too, is a major blessing…a blessing I need to remember and be thankful for.

This is the holiday season, and, as it does for so many others,  it has again brought me deep sadness that I’m struggling with.

All the ugly questions (why, why, why???) pop into my head randomly while the Christmas music in the stores offers triggers galore, and my head and heart are more than willing to respond to them.  I step in-and-out of a dark space where much about this time hurts me, and my first instinct is to hide in this funny little house and tell all these days of “joy” to move on.  They aren’t listening; these days don’t seem to fly by like the less-focused, supposedly “lazy days” of summer do.

So, in the darkness of predawn as my owl friends call to one another, I call out to You, Holy One.

I lie in my bed and pray to the overhead fan, knowing that you’re there, waiting to hear me. Often, there are tears to remind me that this time of remembering can cleanse my soul…sometimes, I even laugh when I think of something I said or did that was just so dumb

But mostly, I pray for Peace, for my own heart and for so many other hearts who are not loving this time of year. 

I pray for Peace, for anyone who needs a little glimpse of It this day – any day. 

I pray for Peace, for a world full of people who are in much worse life-space than I am. 

And I pray for Peace-full acts, that those who lead will consider consequences to the innocent, living in way too many horrible circumstances beyond my control or understanding. 

I pray to You, Holy One, and we share my dark heart, my dark bedroom and a welcoming, dark silence of prayer, knowing that later, you will show yourself to me in little ways.  You always do.

So, like the owls calling to one another, I wait for your response, and I crawl out of bed to begin the day again – with Hope, with more inner Peace, with Love.

Thanks.

That Was Me

The Church of the Palms used the following litany, written by Rev. Max Klinkenborg, at the dedication of the “Homeless Jesus” sculpture on Saturday, November 18, 2023.

Jesus said, ”I’m telling the solemn truth; whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me – you did it unto me.” Matthew 25:40

Leader: Once I saw a man eating from a buffet of leftovers in a dumpster.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I smelled the urine soaked clothes of an old women wearing two coats on a city bus.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I saw a frozen body covered in snow with no coat, hat, shoes or gloves.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I saw a man fall to the street; his shoes were stolen before he could get up.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I heard the screams of a man set on fire in a dumpster for stealing drugs.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I felt the despair of a man turned away on a cold night from an overcrowded shelter.

All: That was Me.

Leader: Once I saw a woman on a bike pulling two carriers filled with her earthly possession.

All: That was Me.

Leader: Once I heard a person arguing with themself at full volume as they pushed a grocery cart.

All: That was Me.

Leader: Once I gagged at an infected blister under a blood soaked sock on the sole of a woman’s foot.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I wept as I saw a boy and his sister eating ketchup on crackers, alone in a restaurant.

All: That was me!

Leader: Once I saw three adults, four children and a dog sleeping in a minivan.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I heard a shivering man in a wheel chair, stuck in snow, calling to no avail for help.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I saw a man asleep on a park bench covered by newspaper.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I smelled burning flesh when a woman fell on a steel grate in August and no one helped her get up.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I sent Christmas cards to a woman’s prison; a woman thanked me later for her only card or gift.

All: That was Me!

Leader: Once I heard a bone-rattling cough from a pile of rags holding a blood soaked rag to her mouth.

All: That was Me!