posts

We have always existed

by Rev. Louis Mitchell, Senior Pastor at Rincon Congregational UCC

Wikipedia offers this:  Jewish law, or halacha, recognizes intersex and non-conforming gender identities in addition to male and female.  Rabbinical literature recognizes six different sexes, defined according to the development and presentation of primary and secondary sex characteristics at birth and later in life.  Jewish literature describes what today would be referred to as intersex such as the concept of a Tumtum being a person of ambiguous gender and/or sex as is the concept of the androgynos, being a person characterized with elements of both sexes. One aspect of Gender and Jewish studies is considering how the ambiguity recognized in Rabbinical literature has been erased and constructed into a binary and how this translates into Jewish practices.
 
It’s also been amended by some to include eight gender designations found in the Talmud –
The 8 Talmudic genders identified are as follows:
(1) Zachar (male), (2) Nekevah (female), (3) Androgynos (having both male and female characteristics), (4) Tumtum (lacking sexual characteristics), (5) Aylonit Hamah (identified female at birth but later naturally developing male characteristics), (6) Aylonit Adam (identified female at birth but later developing male characteristics through human intervention), (7) Saris hamah (identified male at birth but later naturally developing female characteristics), and (8) Saris adam (identified male at birth and later developing female characteristics through human intervention).
 
But what is the Talmud?
 
The Talmud (/ˈtɑːlmʊd, -məd, ˈtæl-/; Hebrew: תַּלְמוּד, romanized: Talmūḏ) is the central text of Rabbinic Judaism and the primary source of Jewish religious law (halakha) and Jewish theology. Until the advent of modernity, in nearly all Jewish communities, the Talmud was the centerpiece of Jewish cultural life and was foundational to “all Jewish thought and aspirations”, serving also as “the guide for the daily life” of Jews.
 
The term Talmud normally refers to the collection of writings named specifically the Babylonian Talmud (Talmud Bavli), although there is also an earlier collection known as the Jerusalem Talmud (Talmud Yerushalmi).  It may also traditionally be called Shas (ש״ס), a Hebrew abbreviation of shisha sedarim, or the “six orders” of the Mishnah.

The Talmud has two components: the Mishnah (משנה, c. 200 CE), a written compendium of the Oral Torah; and the Gemara (גמרא, c. 500 CE), an elucidation of the Mishnah and related Tannaitic writings that often ventures onto other subjects and expounds broadly on the Hebrew Bible. The term “Talmud” may refer to either the Gemara alone, or the Mishnah and Gemara together.
 
The entire Talmud consists of 63 tractates, and in the standard print, called the Vilna Shas, there are 2,711 double-sided folios.  It is written in Mishnaic Hebrew and Jewish Babylonian Aramaic and contains the teachings and opinions of thousands of rabbis (dating from before the Common Era through to the fifth century) on a variety of subjects, including halakha, Jewish ethics, philosophy, customs, history, and folklore, and many other topics. The Talmud is the basis for all codes of Jewish law and is widely quoted in rabbinic literature.
 
I’m not a Hebrew scholar, but I wonder when these observations of our ancestors of faith became unacknowledged and a hard binary came into being.
 
Even as many feel that this “new thing,” gender expansiveness, is confusing and born in modernity, there is much evidence that we have always existed all over the world and in most every culture.
 
If you’re interested in learning more, check out https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transgender_history
 
All of this to say, names and pronouns are important. When someone trusts you enough to tell you who they are and how they’d like to be addressed, try not to take that tender trust lightly.
 
In our radical and expansive welcome, we will all have to learn, shift, and grow. I believe we’re ready and able to the task!
 
Be thoughtful, listen well, and love with your language.

There has never been ‘neutral ground’

by Rev. David Klingensmith

As a progressive Christian minister in the United Church of Christ, and as a gay man, I read with interest Phil Boas’ piece in the Saturday Republic. It comes across as that of a privileged, white, straight man.

I realize that Phil probably didn’t select the picture attached to his article, but I wonder how such an innocuous display of clothing with one rainbow band could be seen as being “bombarded with identity politics.”

Mr. Boas says that the people who are angry at Target “don’t want to erase gay people” because “many of those gay people are beloved family and friends.” He says that people just want “neutral ground.”

Phil, as a gay man and a Christian, I can tell you that from my perspective there has never been “neutral ground.” In most stores and in many cities and towns across America, even today, an LGBTQ+ person cannot ever find anything that acknowledges that they exist. When I was coming to terms with my own sexuality some forty years ago, a couple of gay magazines that were available then were hidden under wraps at the mall. You had to be brave enough to ask for them. For many young people who are struggling with their sexual and gender identity being able to see themselves and their struggle represented in society is important and affirming. Many young people are most afraid of talking with family members, especially if they come from a conservative background. And everyone who supports Pride month is aware of the sacrifices people made before and in the years after Stonewall.

Milton Friedman’s belief that corporations only have responsibility to make as much money as possible is also flawed. Corporations are making all sorts of ethical decisions every day, whether it is how much water they use, what chemicals they use, how they support their employees’ quality of life, and so on. And they certainly have the right to take a stand on such things as LGBTQ rights. If their stockholders don’t agree they can vote them out. But I applaud Target, Anheuser-Busch, and Disney, to name a few, for taking a supportive stance.

I believe that all people have the right to make their choices. If a family walks past the Target display and one of their kids asks about it, I support the right of parents to say, “We don’t agree with that” and share with them why they don’t agree. I support their right not to shop there. But I don’t support them asking the store to take down the display because it makes them uncomfortable.

So many of these arguments (usually by straight, white, evangelical Christians) seem to be fear-based. Many of the folks that espouse these views seem to fear that one day they and their views may be in the minority. But as someone has put it, “Equal rights for others does not mean fewer rights for you. It’s not pie.”

Happy Pride Month, Phil.

Going To Camp

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Every year in June I direct a camp in Blowing Rock, NC for developmentally disabled adults. Since moving to New Mexico, I have at times thought that it’s just too expensive and time-consuming to go back every summer, but as the time rolls around I realize I’m not just doing this because it’s a charitable thing to do or because the camp needs my help. I lead this camp, I participate, because it’s really the best thing I can do for myself and subsequently, the best thing I can do for my family and for everyone in my life.

I don’t exactly know why or how or when it happens, but at some point during the week of crafts and devotions and sing-alongs, the talent show and shared meals, I remember the person I want to be. I see the woman I desire to become. I find myself slowing down, paying attention to small things, saying thank-you more often, laughing at myself, holding hands with someone. At some point in the midst of the campers’ delight, their unique spiritual maturity and their special needs, I find myself more loving, kinder, a gentler spirit and I have to admit I am happy and relieved to find and be that woman again.

It’s not that I dwell in self-loathing. It’s not that I hate who I am the other 51 weeks out of the year. It’s just that I’m not always pleased with how I handle things, how I process events, how I participate in relationships. It just seems that so often during the rest of the year, the rest of my life, I hurry through the days and worry through the nights and I’m not always very nice or very hopeful and I look in the mirror and I’m not happy with who I see. Special Days, this camp I attend, puts me back on the spiritual track I try to follow. It makes me slow down, makes me be attentive to things going on around me, makes me sing and laugh and reach for the hand of somebody else. And somehow by Tuesday night while the campers congratulate each other on their great talents or Wednesday morning when we’re getting ready for the magician or the dance troupe, our entertainment for the week, or later that evening, dressing for the dance, I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and I see her. I recognize her, that woman I want to be. There she is, the kind woman, the loving woman, the gentle woman. And truth be told, I’m afraid that if I quit going to camp, quit participating in this summer experience, I will lose her forever and that I will not remember how to find her.

So, during the first week of June I will be in the mountains. I’m directing a camp called Special Days. I’m playing the guitar. I’m helping with crafts. I’m dancing. I’m serving meals and rocking in a rocking chair. I’m leading devotions and I’m laughing. And most importantly, I’m finding the woman I want to be. The good news for my family and friends is that when I come home I plan to bring her back!

Fall in Love

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Since it’s the season of graduation and we get to hear lots of advice of how to live life, I decided to write my own little speech. It’s simple enough; my advice to graduates and to us all is to fall in love.

Fall in love with yourself, with being a child of God, created in that perfect image. Fall in love with your Creator who formed you in your mother’s womb, knitted you to be just as you are, while knowing who you will be. Fall in love with the miracle shining back at you in your reflection.

Fall in love with the world and its magic of starry nights and changing moons, yellow sun and greening earth. Fall in love with the dry desert soil with its hidden seeds and nutrients, with the tender shoot and thin blades of grass. The cottonwoods and rivers, the rocks and creeks and small speckled eggs of blue birds. Love the breeze that changes things, the drift of clouds across the sky, the lean of blooms on stalks to light. Love the color of things, the way the world turns and breathes and tilts. Fall in love with this round planet with its vast horizons and deep waters, its layers of ash and stone and dirt.

Fall in love with your family, mothers and fathers and embarrassing uncles, your siblings, your spouse and your children, how they all learned your dark secrets and still make a place for you and call it home. For the moment that your beloveds took your breath away, remember that, hold onto it, and never ever let the memory of that moment leave you.

Fall in love with being yoked, with having companionship and friendship, with promises made even while knowing how hard they are to keep. Fall in love with the stuff you build together, the places you go, the dreams you make, the inside jokes that only you know. Fall in love with all of those connected to you because marriage and family and friends are what will hold you up when the earth quakes and everything shatters and they are the ones who sooner or later will have to take your calls. That’s just what they do, so fall in love with that.

Fall in love with Saturday mornings with their chores and games, with church and the silence arriving in prayer, with Thursday night spaghetti and Tuesday’s breakfast cheerios, and the taste of ripe strawberries and the smell of a burger on the grill and the chill of ice cold lemonade sliding down the back of your throat.

Fall in love with the way your body moves, for the delight it feels, the touch of water and sun, the hand caressing yours and the ache in muscles well used, for eyes that see and ears that hear and arms that can hold more than you thought, feet that take you from here to there, your heart that breaks and heals, breaks and heals.

Fall in love with the moments that make you laugh so hard you hurt and the ones you wish you could take away or at the very least, forget. Fall in love with them all because every one of them makes up this life that is yours, this life that is you.

Fall in love with what you have and what you want and fall in love with giving it all away because in the end we discover that it is never the things we own that make us happy. Fall in love with mercy and forgiveness and the unpredictability that is forged within the hours of every single day. With hope and faith. Fall in love with love, the love that makes you patient and kind and keeps you from being rude and irritable or having to have your own way.

 Fall in love because all of it, all of this, all of life happens so fast and it is all so meaningful and not, important and not, necessary and not; so that the only thing that really lets you surrender at the end of it all is to know quite simply that you have experienced the sweetest and most thrilling part of what it is all about anyway, but only if you fall in love.

All Shall Be Well: “The Doctrine of Discovery: Hearing and Healing”

by Rev. Deb Church

I’m writing this reflection as I near the end of a travel study seminar offered by the Presbyterian (PCUSA) Peacemaking Program: “Native Lands of the Southwest: The Doctrine of Discovery and Its Legacy Today.”

Now if you find yourself thinking, “The doctrine of what?”, you’re not alone! Lots of people are in that boat, and I was, too, until somewhat recently. As I learn about it, however, I can’t not invite others into the conversation…

In a nutshell, the Doctrine of Discovery, whose roots can be found in a collection of 15th-century papal bulls (i.e., Pope-issued decrees), provided the theological and then legal justification used by European explorers, and later, American settlers, to claim lands that had been occupied by indigenous peoples for thousands of years, and additionally, to either convert or remove (which often meant, kill) those people as needed–or desired.  

It’s a part of our country’s history that’s uncomfortable and painful–but true nonetheless. And we who have not learned about it (generally through no fault of our own) are left with an incomplete–and inaccurate–understanding of who we are and where we’ve come from as a nation. And even though none of us who’s alive now did any of those things, our lack of awareness and lack of acknowledgement of them contributes to the ongoing injustice and trauma experienced by Native people in our country. And it keeps all of us–not just our Native sisters and brothers, but all of us–from experiencing true healing and wholeness, as God desires for all of God’s creation!

So, fueled by a desire for greater healing within myself, as well as within our Native siblings, as well as within our country, I joined thirty-four others from fifteen states on the travel study seminar mentioned above. Gathering in Albuquerque last Friday [April 28], we boarded a bus, Phoenix-bound, and embarked on a journey of listening, learning, grappling, and growing. 

As we’ve traveled hundreds of miles together through some of the Native Lands here in the Southwest, we’ve had the honor of meeting and hearing from quite a few Native Americans. They’ve shared stories of ancient ancestors and of grandparents, of lands lost and traditions preserved, of passed-down pain and passed-on lessons, of dances and foods and memories and faith, and so much more. Some stories have brought tears, and others, laughter; some generated shame and others, pride; some carried heartache and others, joy.

These Native folks have shared so much, and all they’ve asked was that we listen. That we bear witness. And so we’ve listened. And in listening, we’ve learned. In listening, we’ve been deeply moved. In listening, we’ve been changed. In their sharing and our listening, I hope and pray that we’ve all begun to be healed. 

The pain is deep. The pain is old. The pain is real. 

Hope and healing and transformation are also deep and old and real…

May what is Holy and Sacred within us and above us and below us and beside us and between us create a space among us where we can bear witness to each other’s pain, and in bearing witness, may hope be born and healing begin and transformation become possible…for all of us and all of God’s creation. 

May it be so.

Mothering the World Right Now!

by Kay Klinkenborg, (Church of the Palms member), MA, Spiritual Director, Member Spiritual Directors International, Retired: RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT)

What is not in turmoil is easier to answer than list what is in turmoil in this world and on Earth.  Climate change roaring; wars; politically divided countries; democracies fighting for their life; missing Indigenous women and children; mass shootings; trafficking; institutional and personal racism (in all its forms); addictions; more immigrants in the world than those that have a place to call home and we fear the list will run into eternity or the end of the planet upon which we live. What are we to do? 

      I reel at times with the realities of destruction, pain, terror I witness in the news.  How do I stay centered; stay focused on what my core knows is true:  LOVE…the world needs love.

     Instantly my feminine energy kicks into gear. Mothering.  Creation has been ‘mothering’ since the beginning.  God speaks of ‘we’ in Genesis; not alone as Creator. Then other Hebrew Scriptures speak of Sophia, Wisdom; which has been interpreted by highly respected theologians as the feminine side of God. 

     The Talmud also introduces the term Shekhinah to connote God’s presence in the world. Though the term is grammatically feminine, in the Talmud it is not explicitly gendered, though in some passages it refers to moments when God shares in human experiences of loneliness, loss, and exile.1

      In the case of Jewish thought, grammar at times meets theology in as much as impersonal Hebrew nouns are gendered, so that words like hokhmah (wisdom) and shekhinah (presence) over time lent themselves by virtue of their feminine.1

     In fact, the personal name of God, Yahweh, which is revealed to Moses in Exodus 3, is a remarkable combination of both female and male grammatical endings. The first part of God’s name in Hebrew, “Yah,” is feminine, and the last part, “weh,” is masculine.2

     I am pleased that I can attest to many men I know that use ‘mothering characteristics’ in their relationships and interactions.  I am not suggesting that this is a woman’s task at all.  In fact, I think history and biblical interpretations show us that feminine traits are revered.  And our world right now needs that kind of love!.

     Remember the famous song: “What the World Needs Now is Love, Love, Love.”  One word most will resonant with to describe that is a verb:  mothering.

     Since the beginning of time…’mothering’…to nurture…to care for…to watch after’ has and does occur.  It had to have occurred or evolution would not have sustained, extended or be continuing.  As the human species evolves our archeological discoveries tell us that ‘mothering’ occurred.  It is nature’s form of care taking, survival of the species.

     One major thing I continue to learn and have reinforced:  ‘getting out of God’s way’.  My instinctual need to control, be in charge is being challenged.   I am learning more about the spiritual discipline of surrender.  Let God evolve.   There is no surprise there is mass turmoil. There have always been pandemics, disasters, wars, a disappearance of life as we understand it.  None of this is news.  Yes, we live in a more informed world, and more technology but the real truth is human’s are still evolving and every generation has to learn for themselves what is means to be human, to love and have relationships with all peoples and creation.   Our ownership that this can happen to us is what is new.  This is nature. This is the evolving of life in this known Universe.

     I have found myself ‘should-ing’;  I should do this; I should say that; I should not be having this fear and anxiety. A sampling of my should list. What about ‘mothering myself’? What about starting there in order to have the energy and compassion to extend to others? If I can have compassion for my own journey/feelings during this extraordinary time in history, will not that enable me to understand/hear and have compassion beyond myself.  Then I am ready to extend ‘mothering’.

     Only in self-compassion and owning my own emotions in this particular journey will I then have the energy and compassionate response to others to be mothering the world.  Mirabai Starr writes in her book Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics, “…we need a mothering of the world together right now.”    We need that feminine energy that is male and female brought forth to face these challenges.

     I want to explicitly point out the fact that women who have not born children… mother; men… mother,  It is part of our innate design if we own that part of ourselves.  A friend taught me a profound lesson about mothering;

One particularly Mother’s Day, I was quite depressed; estranged from our son and blaming myself for his adult choices. A friend sent me a text that day that knew of the circumstances.  “Kay, you have been mothering people your entire adult life.  As a nurse, friend, manager, counselor, consultant and the list goes on.  So today claim all the mothering you have and do. Let that bring comfort.”

     So I am challenging myself as I write to this audience, let my ‘mothering show forth’; let my love be visible and make me an instrument that releases a song of ‘Love, Love, Love…’

Going on without denying any aspect of the human drama is what strength is all about. We are carved by life into instruments that will release our song, if we can hold each up to the carving.

Mark Nepo

1”Feminine Images of God”:  Yehudah Mirsky, Jewish Women’s Archive.

2CBE (cbeinternational.org) (Christians for Biblical Equality). “The Feminine Imagery of God in the Hebrew Bible.” Joan P. Schaupp | October 30, 2000.

                                                                                                       ©Kay Klinkenborg, Revised May 2023 (May 2022)                                                            

Crawling Out of the Hole

by Jane Jones*

I’m constantly amazed at how the Holy One works – we just have to learn to (as my Gramma Milly would say), “Let go.  Let God.”

I suppose I can admit to the fact that as a lifelong “fixer” this is one hard task!  I’m used to being in charge of something – I’ve trusted what I’ve known as “The Voice” my whole life, and so when I feel called to take on a challenge, I tend to step up to the plate and get to work. 

Often, I’m successful in these attempts, because I believe the Holy One uses me as a tool for the good in this world.  I feel humble and grateful to be chosen to help…but what happens when you suddenly find yourself on the other end of fixing?

Four years ago, real life of a different type happened and suddenly, I was the one who needed help at the deepest level anyone could know.  A relationship I treasured and totally devoted myself to suddenly ended; my marriage of 22 years ran into a cement wall. I was blind-sided, shocked, heartbroken. In one day, my whole world took a 180-degree turn.

The circumstances swirling around it were ugly,  very public, and it all ripped me apart.  So much pain, so much doubt about myself, so many details forcing me to step into a life I truly never expected to live – on my own. 

I went down a very dark hole, doing all the things another instinct tells us to do to ease the pain, and I wondered how I’d ever crawl out of it again.

This Fixer was in desperate need of being brought back to life. 

Here’s the part where the God reveals just how amazing a Being God is…

At the worst time I’ve ever experienced, I was surrounded by a cloud of atypical saints, (most of them not people of faith!) and each one of them contributed to the healing journey I found myself on.

I truly was never alone. 

Did you know that the God has many disguises?  Do you remember that Spirit can show up in the oddest places at just the right moment (in the wrong place) to give you a poke, reminding you who and Whose you are?  Did you know that getting through a life-changing event can change you in ways you never thought you would know and understand; dropping new hope, new strength, new life right at your feet? 

These aren’t just buzz words thrown at us during a sermon in any church…this is absolute Truth. 

I know this, because I’ve been constantly in awe of how the Holy One works – how the Holy One reaches out – always, and often when you least expect it. 

With honest love from friends, family, even people I didn’t know personally, I’m finding my way back.  I’m crawling out of that dark hole, one step at a time. I’m also learning about real forgiveness – God’s trademark – and true peace.

The newer me is a modified version for sure, (and a better one, I think) – and as I squint each morning at a much brighter day ahead, I find that I’m not the only one who has suffered such loss. There is so much to grieve about in this world these days…The Voice is telling me that it’s time to get to work again. 

What’s different, though, is that instead of being a fixer, I’m now a “mender” because we’re all in this together. We need to patch up the torn places…and keep going.

It feels good to step up to the plate again.

Thanks, Holy One.

*Jane Jones served as the licensed pastor for First Congregational Church in Prescott from 2009 – 2015, has been SWC’s Moderator and Moderator Elect, is almost a former member of COCAM B, and currently sits in on Faith Formation ZOOM meetings.  She will be one of the facilitators at the “Doing Grief Community Healing Project” at Church of the Palms in Sun City.

The Unexpected Parade

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

In an essay entitled “In Today, Already Walks Tomorrow,” Joseph Hankins recalls a Peanuts cartoon from years ago. In the first panel Charlie Brown says to Linus, “I learned something in school today. I signed up for folk guitar, computer programming, art, and a music appreciation class.” He continues, “I got spelling, history, arithmetic, and two study periods.” “So, what did you learn?” Linus asks. And Charlie Brown replies, “I learned that what you sign up for and what you get are two different things.” (Vital Speeches of the Day, October, 1997.)

If you’ve lived long enough, you totally understand what Charlie Brown is saying. One author wrote, “If you want to hear God laugh, go ahead and tell your plans.” Life rarely turns out like we expect. And perhaps no event teaches us this lesson more clearly than the event of Palm Sunday.

From the gospels we learn that Jesus and his followers come into Jerusalem and there is quite a show. For all reasonable purposes, it certainly seems like a parade and it seems like a political parade because of the waving of palms, the symbol of Jewish independence, waved for national heroes and because of what they say, at least in Mark’s version. They shout Hosanna, the nearest translation in English being, “God save the king!” The people participating in this parade, people marching and singing and shouting and waving palms, have a certain expectation of what this event means. Jesus is the new king of Israel and the days of oppression under Rome are coming to an end. Jesus is taking them to a revolution, to freedom from occupation. Jesus is finally setting them free. That’s what they expect. The parade people, maybe the disciples, maybe everyone, expect that Jesus is getting ready to change everything. And on that mark, they are right, but their expectations of how Jesus was going to do that were however, completely off the mark.

There is a lot about life that turns out that way, don’t you think? There are a lot of things we begin with that turn out to be completely different in the end. We get married and expect that we will always be in love with that person. We expect that we will be together until death do us part. And then, well, marriage isn’t quite what we expected and we find ourselves separated and then divorced. We have children, raise them up expecting them to share our values, want the same things in life that we do, and then we discover that our children are nothing like we expected. We go to college, pick a major, and expect that we will find careers that suit us, that fit who we are, and that we will stay in the same place with the same company forever. And well, all of us know how that turns out. We put our money in 401K’s. We invest in secure places. We expect that we can retire and live without too much discomfort and oh, haven’t we discovered that our expectations didn’t work out quite as we had thought? We expect that we will be ready for the deaths of loved ones and we aren’t. We expect that our health will hold up and it doesn’t. We expect that our church will always be there and we expect that nations will be moral. So often, none of these things are true. But the important part of this story is that Jesus shows up. Even when he must understand the peoples’ presence, his disciples’ expectations and friends’ dreams are not in line with what is about to happen. Still he shows up, with humility and wisdom. And love.

John Vannorsdall wrote: “Palm Sunday is not a day when we throw up our hands because Jesus was killed. It’s not a day of pessimism when we condemn the people who went home to supper, the crowds which later became ugly. It’s not a day when we get morose over the money changers in the temple and declare that nothing ever turns out well, that even God’s small parade was a fiasco. Palm Sunday, rather, is a day when we say, knowing all of this, knowing that people are fickle, get tired of parades and go home, knowing that religious leaders like things neat and tidy and kill reformers, knowing that the humble truth teller is walked upon, knowing that people will sell their souls for a handful of silver, knowing that even good friends will sleep when we suffer, it’s a day when knowing all this, Jesus came riding.”

The truth in Palm Sunday is that the event that started in a parade to celebrate Jesus, ended in a mob gathering to kill Jesus. And the lesson to be learned is that nothing ever really turns out as we expected. That doesn’t, however, mean that we have been forsaken by God. It doesn’t mean we are being punished or abandoned. It means that even when the parade doesn’t take you where you want to go, there is still the opportunity to grow in your faith, and share in the work of grace you have been called to do. Even as our expectations are not fulfilled, God is still present, active, and involved in our lives.

The Seeds of Others

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Once we moved into a church parsonage in Washington State in late October where I took the position as Interim Pastor. The front and back yards, though small, had landscaped flower beds wrapping around the house and garage. No one told us what was planted in the beds. No one told us what to expect once winter ended. In the first few weeks of spring at least forty or fifty bulbs had broken through the thawed ground and by early May, this house we called home for a few more months, was surrounded by color, bathed in the hues of spring. We came to realize that we lived in a beauty imagined and created by the hearts and hands of others.

In that season of birth and new growth and in a place gardened by others, I was reminded of the power of planting seeds. I was reminded of the hope that emerges in the hearts of planters, how diligently farmers and gardeners rake and plow and dig and make way for life. Every year lovers of the earth go to nurseries and stores, purchase the seeds or bulbs that offer possibilities, and in faith, with care and hope, drop them into the earth in joyful anticipation. Most plant gardens for themselves but some folks, like the anonymous members of that church, hearty ones who love to landscape and care for church properties, plant their bulbs and seeds for others.

It is the same in spiritual gardens. We plant seeds of kindness, faith, hope, joy, love, peace, and patience in our own hearts, hoping to enjoy the bounty of our work and desire. We plant seeds within our souls, toiling with tools to grow spiritual gifts that we look forward to see come to fruition. We pray and study and meditate and practice for us to become patient, to become kind, to become people of peace and love. It is the harvest of our work for our own souls. But we also plant seeds in the hearts of others, in temporary places, in organizations, places of worship, in souls of those who may or may not ever know our names. We plant seeds without having to reap the bounty. We plant seeds without needing to watch the garden grow. We plant seeds letting the hope of what might come, the power of what may spring forth, the joy we expect for someone else, to be reason enough to keep planting.

I’m sure I could have asked members of the Trustees who planted those bulbs that grew in perfectly-spaced rows, filling the beds in the front and back yards of the parsonage and someone would have given me names; but I did not. Instead as they popped and bloomed I thought of the people in my life who planted seeds within my soul and never saw what grew. I think of grandmothers and teachers, the parents of my adolescent friends, the authors of books that shaped me, the countless words of wisdom from others that fell like seeds in my soul and have finally begun to bloom. I will think of planting my own seeds, being kind to strangers, writing words of hope, working for justice and peace, and learn how to be content with just the planting. It takes faith to grow a garden you don’t get to harvest. It takes faith to plant a seed. I know because I lived that season in the center of someone else’s hopes for spring.

Do Lent, or not do Lent

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

“What the heck is Lent?” a friend asked. “What’s with the ashes, the morose songs, the somber colors? I thought the United Church was for happy Christians. Why do we have to do Lent?”

Truth be known, we don’t. “Doing Lent” or giving up something for the next 40 days isn’t required at the United Church of Santa Fe. As part of the United Church of Christ, we’re in the reform Protestant tradition (Congregational, Disciples of Christ, Baptists, etc.) that historically didn’t “do” Lent. In fact, many “free church” Protestants looked with suspicion on Lent. Some still do. Lent was something those Catholics, Lutherans, or Episcopalians did. The ashes, giving up meat or candy, all that purple was a bit too Popish or liturgical for our tastes. As my friend said, we were supposed to be happy Christians.

Other Protestants didn’t mark Lent, because as one friend observed, in her church it was Lent all the time. With all the rules against dancing, drinking, and card playing, they didn’t have anything to give up!

So technically, we don’t have to do anything or give up anything for Lent at the United Church of Santa Fe. But many of us have found that Easter has deeper meaning, if we set aside Lent’s 40 days for something other than life or business as usual.

If we wanted to sing in a concert, we’d need to set aside time to rehearse. To compete in a basketball tournament, we’d take time to practice our free throws. The same is true for our experience of Easter. To know new life in any form—spiritually, physically, intellectually—we need to take time to practice. Setting aside the 40 days of Lent for study, prayer, silence, and other spiritual disciplines is a way to engage new ideas, new feelings, new possibilities.

Sometimes to let in new life, we also have to let go of some things. Before you start a new project, you might need to clear off your desk. Before you ran a marathon, you might want to shed some weight. The same is true of our souls. Sometimes we need to clean out and shed extra baggage to make room for something new.

Observing Lent is not required for admission to Easter at the United Church. Come Easter morning, you’ll be as welcome at United as you are any morning.

But perhaps if we take the 40 days of Lent to practice new life or if we set aside time to remember the sacredness of our lives and all life, then maybe, just maybe, Easter might have a new meaning for us this year. We don’t have to “do Lent,” but we might be surprised what’s possible if we do.

Fasten your seat belts—Lent has come!

Get ready—because Easter is on its way!