When there’s nothing good to thank God for

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Give thanks to the Lord because God is good,
because God’s faithful love lasts forever.”

(Psalm 118:1)

In reading this verse I was once again struck by my tendency to “give thanks to the Lord” not because God is good, but because of my perception that God is good to me. If I’m honest, I have to acknowledge that I want to “give thanks to the Lord” not because God’s love lasts forever, but because of my sense that somehow, that love has shined on me.

But what about when bad things happen? What about God feels absent? I confess that my default tendency in those moments is not to “give thanks to the Lord.” How can I thank God when there’s nothing good to thank God for?

And there it is–when it feels like “there’s nothing good to thank God for,” perhaps I’m missing the point of giving thanks. As a person of faith, I’m invited to give thanks to God because God is good, not because God does or doesn’t do good things for me. As a person of faith, I’m invited to give thanks to God because God’s love is bigger and broader and deeper and more eternal than anything else in my life–good or bad. 

As a person of faith, I’m invited to accept the invitation of the psalmist and give thanks to God because of who God is and how God loves. Period. 

And you are, too.

May it be so!
Deb

Inclining our Ear Toward God: Listening As A Church

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

In a world full of solutions, opinions, and advice, listening is one of the most important gifts we can offer one another. It is an act of healing and vision. For people of faith and their communities, the gift of listening both to one another and God offers a path to spiritual renewal and grants congregations a vision of their identity. In a time when congregations are experiencing a steep decline in membership and facing significant uncertainty, learning to listen deeply to one another and seeking through listening to discern God’s path for a faith community’s future just might be one of the most important acts a church can engage in.

Rev. Chad Abbott and I minister in a denomination (UCC) that believes “God is still speaking.” The phrase expresses the reality that God is much more mysterious and far-reaching than we can understand. While the Bible continues to serve as the primary source of revelation for Christians, God is still being revealed to us in this world, in a culture the ancient world could not have imagined.

Sadly, it is evident to us as leaders in the Mainline American church that many Christians do not know how to listen for God, despite their deep longing to connect with a God who still speaks. Just as individual Christians struggle to listen for God, faith communities labor to listen for God together. Many are not able to slow down and approach church life in a reflective, contemplative manner.

Chad and I have written “Incline Your Ear: Cultivating Spiritual Awakening in Congregations” (Fortress Press, 2021) to encourage spiritual growth and vitality in faith communities in this listening pursuit. Throughout our book we share spiritual practices designed to help your congregation “incline its ear” toward God. Notice we used the singular “ear.” We believe congregations need to understand themselves as unified — one body, rather than a collection of individuals. As we are both spiritual directors, we explain the principles and practices of contemporary spiritual direction so that congregations can understand and use them. We even outline a “Congregational Spiritual Road Map” at the end of each chapter with step-by-step instructions for leading spiritual practices in awareness of God, reflection on the congregation’s life together, discernment, and creating an action plan to move forward on what is discerned.

With each important decision we make, with every relationship we build, with every church mission statement or ministry we design, and in matters of vocation and prophetic witness, the skills of discernment and listening in the spiritual life will make for vital congregations. While we face declining membership and generational shifts in loyalty to the church, it is clear to us that it is both a challenging, and exciting time to be the church. We have the opportunity to imagine a new future as we listen for God’s leading. All the spiritual resources we need to become that newly-imagined and future church is already within and around us if we will but incline our ear to the work of the Spirit.

We believe this work is so important. The world outside church doors will not wait around for clergy to figure out how to connect contemplative life at home with congregational life at church, so naturally the spiritually curious turn to yoga studios, meditation mats, healing stones, and spirituality apps — and who can blame them? Yet, the church has a deep and abiding tradition of spiritual practices that can help spiritual pilgrims in our time get to the heart of their yearning. In particular, the work of spiritual direction has the potential to not only enhance spiritual vitality in the church, but to push us toward congregational vitality that helps churches more fully live out their mission in the world in a time when a vibrant church is desperately needed.

Rev. Teresa Blythe is the director of the Phoenix Center for Spiritual Direction at First UCC Phoenix. Rev. Chad Abbott is Conference Minister for the Indiana-Kentucky Conference of the UCC.

Make the Change During Lent

kiva fireplace mantle

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

We have found some Lenten inspiration in rocks and minerals collected from around the globe: some samples from six of our seven continents are placed on the mantle of the kiva fireplace in our living room. (We have yet to make it to Antarctica and it is unlikely that we would bring back any rock specimens from that frigid place anyway.)

kiva fireplace mantle set for Lent

To these ancient rocks, we added dry sticks collected from the arroyo (the steep-sided gully that is bone dry most of the time) in the high mountain desert where we have made our home (for now). Rocks and sticks… seemingly lifeless. After the Festival of the Epiphany (January 6), we had plenty of used, spent, short, stubby white candles on hand. The tired candles from Epiphany were recycled into new symbols for our Lenten journey.

Each Sunday, another candle is lighted. Purple cloth is added now for a bit of color.

Eventually, all six of these candles will be aglow (one for each completed week of this journey through the desert), the stones will be rolled away for good, the purple cloth will be replaced with something else (yet unseen and yet unknown).

So it is with the human heart this Lent. Heavy rocks, dry sticks, leftover candles are symbolic reminders of what might be hiding in our hearts. Specifically, if your life seems out of balance, move things around. (Restructure your work week so that you can balance work, relaxation, and sleep.) If your days are too busy and your life is too full, get rid of what is no longer needed. (Don’t sign up for another socially distant online study group, if another Zoom meeting does not bring you joy.) If you need more meaning in your life, find a place where you can safely volunteer or give back to your community. (Perhaps there are safe volunteer opportunities through your church, the schools in your city, or at the public library.) If darkness seems to surround you and the sky seems gray, then add more light to your home and perhaps a bit more color to your wardrobe. Real, lasting change is hard! Here is a link to article that might be helpful to you if you choose to make changes in your life.

Lenten mantle

Lent is a time for transformation. As we have counted the days of Lent, beginning on Ash Wednesday (February 17), we have made intentional changes every single day on our kiva mantle. At first, the changes were small – barely noticeable. As the days moved along, the changes have become more obvious. The spent white candles, leftover from a joyful season gone-by, were replaced with purple candles. The rocks and minerals were moved about daily and exchanged for others from our collection. Finally, the sticks were transformed. The random sticks were lugged out to the garage and prayerfully handled, then cracked, snapped, and then broken apart to be made into something new. The straightest parts of our random sticks were fashioned into a simple cross, secured with twine to hold them securely together.

It is not too late to join us on this transformational journey towards new life. Be open to a whole new look and expect a complete transformation in your heart by Easter!

Prayer for Transformation:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference. Amen.*

*This is what Wikipedia says about this prayer: “The Serenity Prayer is a prayer written by theologian Reinhold Niebuhr (1892–1971). Niebuhr composed the prayer in 1932-33. The prayer spread rapidly, often without attribution to Niebuhr, through church groups in the 1930s and 1940s and was adopted and popularized by Alcoholics Anonymous and other twelve-step programs. Niebuhr used it in a 1943 sermon at Heath Evangelical Union Church in HeathMassachusetts. It also appeared in a sermon of Niebuhr’s in the 1944 Book of Prayers and Services for the Armed Forces, while Niebuhr first published it in 1951 in a magazine column. Early versions of the prayer are given no title, but by 1955, it was being called the Serenity Prayer in publications of Alcoholics Anonymous.”

What does it mean to offer a sacrifice of praise?

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Praise the Lord!
Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty firmament!
Praise him for his mighty deeds; praise him according to his surpassing greatness!…
Let everything that breathes praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord!”
(Psalm 150:1,2,6)

I’ve had the phrase “sacrifice of praise” stuck in my head for the last few days. I’m not sure where I saw it, or how it got there, but it’s been there, rolling around, forcing me to think about it. What does it mean, to offer a sacrifice of praise? Those two words don’t really seem to go together easily.

Doesn’t offering a sacrifice usually imply some sort of hardship? Doesn’t the idea of making a sacrifice generally include the understanding of doing something that’s not comfortable or easy, but in fact, is inconvenient, difficult, or even painful? And isn’t offering praise, on the other hand, the sharing of something good and encouraging and uplifting, the offering of which usually comes easily and willingly, and even naturally?

So why are we invited to “continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise”? (cf. Hebrews 13:15; emphasis mine).

People are struggling right now. And not just “right now,” but for close to a year. A year. For almost twelve months we have been living with the restrictions imposed by COVID-19–which I do not need to elaborate on; we all know them all too well. Of course, people were struggling before that, too; life was not all rainbows and roses pre-coronavirus.

But the COVID-related restrictions have made everyone’s struggles even greater.

People are struggling. People around the world and across the street. Our neighbors and co-workers, our educators and political leaders, our relatives and friends. You who are reading this, and I who am writing this. We are all struggling. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide, nothing to try to deny. I dare say it’s a fact of life in this season through which we are living.

And yet, we, as people of faith, now as always, are invited to praise God….

Suddenly, the idea of offering a sacrifice of praise makes sense. Right now, in the midst of these struggles, there may not be a lot that we want to say to God that is good and encouraging and uplifting. Right now, in the midst of these struggles, offering praise to God may not come easily or willingly or naturally. Right now, in the midst of these struggles, praising God is not necessarily easy or comfortable. Right now, in the midst of these struggles, I dare say that praising God may very well be difficult, or even painful.

And yet, we, as people of faith, now as always, are invited to praise God….

Perhaps it doesn’t come easily. Perhaps it doesn’t feel natural. Perhaps it’s even painful.

But maybe, just maybe, as people of faith, we can dig deep and offer a sacrifice of praise to God–praising God for God’s steadfast love and abiding presence if nothing else–right now, in the midst of these struggles.

Peace be with us all.
Deb

Thank God I Don’t Have a Demon…

by Rev. Deb Worley

“That evening, at sunset, they brought to [Jesus] all who were sick or possessed with demons….And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons….” (Mark 1:32, 34)

When I read passages like this in the Bible, I’m immediately grateful that I don’t have a demon. There are stories where someone has a demon who throws that person into the fire, or onto the ground; there are stories where someone with a demon is mute and another howls and cuts himself. In all of these stories, Jesus casts out the demons and restores their former “hosts” to wholeness; but still–I read them and feel very grateful that I don’t need that kind of healing from Jesus.

I’m especially thankful that I don’t have a demon that throws me into the fire–because this is where I’ve been spending a LOT of time in recent weeks:

But…as I think about it…I realize that there is something within me that can pull me away from wholeness, and forcefully.

There is no demon within me that pushes me to the ground…but there is, sometimes, something within me that does try to push me down–telling me things like I’m not good enough, I’m not capable enough, I don’t know enough….

Similarly, there is no unclean spirit within me that causes me to be mute…but there is, sometimes, something within me that influences me to be silent when I should speak up, that keeps me from speaking what I know to be true when that truth feels too uncomfortable or painful or risky….

As for cutting myself, there is no evil spirit within me that has led me to do that…but I have, at times, listened to something within me that has allowed me to chose to harm myself in other ways–by not addressing unhealthy relationships, for example, or by not listening to my own voice among all those I listen to for wisdom and guidance. 

I am more comfortable calling the “something within me” that puts me down, my “inner critic” instead of the voice of a demon, but it is similarly destructive. And while I’m more likely to think of those thoughts that try to silence me as coming from a place of fear and insecurity rather than an “unclean spirit,” couldn’t fear and insecurity be considered something similar?? And the variation on self-harm? Well, the voice within me that persuades me to not value myself appropriately could perhaps be considered an “evil spirit.”

Maybe I do have demons that need to be cast out by Jesus–demons within me that cause me to doubt my goodness and my capabilities, to doubt the truth that I know, to doubt my own wisdom and authority.

Maybe I do need Jesus to cast them out, so that there will be more space for a sense of my belovedness, and so that I can more fully trust God’s goodness and truth and wisdom within me.

Maybe I do need “that kind of healing” from Jesus….

Do you?

Heal us, Jesus!

Amen.

Attitude

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ And Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening.’ Then the Lord said to Samuel, ‘See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle….I am about to punish [Eli’s] house forever…’

“Samuel lay there until morning…afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, ‘Samuel, my son….What was it that [the Lord] told you? Do not hide it from me….’ So Samuel told him everything…. Then [Eli] said, ‘It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.'” 

(1 Samuel 3:10-18…ish…)

The above passage is a significantly abbreviated version of the familiar “Calling of Samuel” passage (cf. 1 Samuel 3), wherein “the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under [the priest] Eli” (1 Samuel 3:1). Prior to what we read above, God had already called three times: “Samuel! Samuel!” And all three times Samuel had gone to Eli, saying, “You called?” The first two times, Eli said, “I didn’t call you. Go back to bed.” The third time it hit him: “Ah! GOD is calling you! If it happens again, say, ‘Yes, God? I’m listening.’” 

That’s where we pick up the story: “Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ And Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening.’” Often, it seems, the focus of this passage is on God calling, and on listening for God’s call. When I read it this week, however, there were a couple of other parts that stood out to me.

One is just Samuel’s response to hearing what was going to happen to Eli–he “lay there until morning” (cf. 1 Sam. 3:15). So, I’m not the first person (nor, I suspect, will I be the last) to lay awake until morning, my mind spinning over things (especially bad things!) that are out of my control. In fact, not only am I not the first person to spend a sleepless night, fearing what lies ahead, but I’m in good company! 

The other thing that spoke to me was Eli’s response to what Samuel told him. Samuel had just delivered some pretty unwelcome(!) news–that God was “about to punish [Eli’s] house forever” (cf. 1 Sam. 3:13). I don’t know exactly what that would look like–to have your house and family punished by God forever–but surely it’s not a good thing. Surely, in fact, it’s a terrible thing. 

And how did Eli respond? Did he say, “What?? That’s not fair!” No. Did he say, “What?? Why me??” No. Did he say, “Surely ‘forever’ doesn’t really mean forever…” No. Did he otherwise moan or whine or complain or rage? No. 

He said, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

“It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

And I thought, “Wow…if only I could adopt that attitude….” That speaks to me of trusting in God, no matter what. Of claiming God’s goodness, no matter the circumstances.

“It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

That speaks to me of trusting in a bigger picture, even though it can’t be seen. Of claiming to be part of a bigger–and better–story, even though this part sucks. 

“It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

That speaks to me of faith.

Does that mean in every situation that is “unwelcome,” we are to simply sit back and accept it, without complaining or raging? Or doing anything to change it? Of course not. 

But perhaps there are times–particularly when the unwelcome situations are out of our control (not that any of us can relate to that concept…!)–when an attitude of “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him” could be helpful.

Just a thought.

Peace be with us all.
Deb

Epiphany 2021

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

Sometimes God seems so invisible … trying to see God is like trying to see the white paint along the edge of the highway … while we drive white-knuckled through a white-out snowstorm. Sometimes God seems so silent … listening for God is like listening to the snow falling during the bleak midwinter… can you hear the snow falling?

Some of my earliest Christmas memories date back to when my brother and I were very young. We sat on the light blue shag carpet in the den by the crackling fire in the fireplace. Our great-grandmother Lulu sat in her chair by the fire, wrapped up in a crochet afghan that reminded me of a multi-colored, warm waffle. Our grandfather Emmett looked out the big picture window and asked me, “Can you hear the snow falling?” “No,” I replied, “but I can SEE it.” And then my grandfather taught my brother and me that we must use our imaginations and listen to the stories of our ancestors to “hear” God’s voice. My mother reinforced these stories as we grew in faith and now I have passed them along to my own children. Listen to the stories of our spiritual ancestors and then use your imagination (and what science and history have taught you) to fill in the blanks in the story.

After Christmas had passed and we were counting the days until Epiphany, my grandfather pulled out his well-worn old King James version of his Bible with a genuine leather cover. He turned to Matthew and read selections from chapter two. The story that he read to us sounded something like this:

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is this child who has been born king of the Jews? For we have observed his star at its rising, and we have come to pay him homage.’ Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was…they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” (Matthew 2:1-2, 7-11, New Revised Standard Version)

Much of what follows has grown out of my (mostly) German family traditions which have evolved as our ancestors told stories near the fireplace. Some of this is fact, some is fiction, some is what might have happened or what could have happened… some of what follows can be proven and some cannot. But all of this is the story that my family has always told as we counted the twelves days from Christmas to the Epiphany. Giving credit to appropriate historical sources to back this up is impossible here… this is the story my family has always told as we roasted … “chestnuts on the open fire.”

Magi on dining room table with four candles lit

Epiphany follows the Twelve Days of Christmas (which usually are counted from December 26 until January 6, which is the Twelfth Day). The four Advent candles in our Advent wreath have been replaced by the twelve white candles on our fireplace mantle, representing the supposed twelve-day journey of the wise kings to Bethlehem. Thus, in our home, the three kings with a camel or two and a few rocks painted gold start at the east end of our 8-foot dining table. Each night for twelve nights, we march the kings forward, inching more closely to the baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph who are set up on the west end of the table. Each night as the kings move from east to west, we light one more candle, indicating one more day on this long journey to Bethlehem.

The colors of Epiphany are white, representing newness, and gold, representing kingship. The word, “epiphany” means “to show” or “to make known” or “to reveal.” We remember the wise ones who brought gifts to the Christ child and they “reveal” to all the known world that Jesus is King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Were there really three kings? We do not know how many kings (or magi or wise ones or astrologers) there were. But the scripture indicates that these wise ones brought three gifts. What is important is not the number of kings, but the gifts that they brought to Jesus. We were taught these were symbolic gifts, foreshadowing what Jesus would be for us and for all humankind. At our Epiphany feast each year, my mother would put out the gifts by our place-settings that the kings brought to the baby Jesus: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

1. The gold represents kingship. When were we young children, chocolate coins covered with gold foil represented the gold the kings brought to Jesus. The significance of this gift was the foreshadowing that the baby Jesus would grow to be our king.

2. The frankincense represents the priestly function of Jesus (as the “great high priest”). Burning a bit of frankincense in a small dish at each place-setting reminded me of how holy, other-worldly, and “God-like” Jesus must be. Frankincense is highly fragrant when burned and was (and still is) used by some priests in worship.

3. The myrrh represents the humanness of Jesus. He had a real body and one day he would die and be buried. Myrrh is made from the sap of a tree and was used in biblical times for embalming the dead. A few drops of myrrh essential oil in a small dish at each place-setting reminded me of a damp, decaying, and musty forest.

2020 finally has ended. Seeing God and hearing God in 2020 was challenging for so many as we navigated a global pandemic. And now we begin our journey forward into 2021. As we move into the year ahead, listen, look, give your gifts to the new-born Christ child in the manger, and recall the lyrics to a familiar Christmas carol (written by Gloria Shayne Baker and Noel Regney):

Said the night wind to the little lamb:
“Do you see what I see?
Way up in the sky, little lamb
Do you see what I see?
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite”

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy:
“Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
A song, a song, high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea”

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king:
“Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold”

Said the king to the people everywhere:
“Listen to what I say!
Pray for peace, people everywhere!
Listen to what I say!
The Child, the Child, sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light”

featured image credit: Robert Bisser

other images credit: Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

A New Year’s Haiku

by Rev. Deb Worley

“For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord,
plans for your welfare and not for harm, 
to give you a future with hope.” 
(Jeremiah 29:11)
 

Most of you do not know this about me (although it won’t surprise you!), but every year for the past, maybe, twenty- (?) years, I have written a Christmas letter. And this is no ordinary Christmas letter. For most of those years, it has been a rhyming Christmas letter. And sometimes, even set to a tune (one year, for example, I wrote our family’s version of “My Favorite Things” from the Sound of Music! Yes, really…). I strive to make it informative, yes, but more than that, I try to make it fun to read. I do not, typically–and this is the part that really won’t surprise you–try to make it brief!! 

This year, as the Christmas season was approaching, a friend suggested, somewhat in jest (but not, I suspect, entirely!), that I try to write a Christmas haiku. You know–the Japanese form of poetry that consists of three lines, with five and seven and five syllables, respectively. 

After I stopped laughing hysterically at the thought of summarizing this year in only seventeen syllables, I decided to try it! I came up with several options, but this was the winner: 

Challenges abound…
Seeming insurmountable…
Breathe. This, too, shall pass.

As you might expect, it has been quite an exercise for me, using such a short form of poetry to express emotion and capture meaning. But it has been, in fact, quite a thought-provoking exercise…and I’ve expanded it beyond “just” my Christmas letter.

I also decided to try to compose one as a New Year’s “offering,” a haiku prayer of sorts. While I was standing in line at the post office today, I actually came up with two. And I share them with you here, for whatever they may be worth: 

Breathe. You can trust me.
I am doing a new thing…
Come be part of it…. 

and

This year is ending.
New life and change are coming.
Breathe. Trust. Watch. Hope. Breathe…

 There seems to be a bit of a theme, in all three of those last haikus. I suppose it’s something I, at least, need to hear and be reminded of. And that is to “Breathe.” 

To breathe in God’s peace and breathe out anxiety. To breathe in God’s presence and breathe out isolation. To breathe in God’s hope and breathe out despair. To breathe in God’s love and breathe out fear.

As this crazy year comes to end, dear friends, breathe…As a new year begins, breathe… As we move from one day to the next, one month to the next, one year to the next, not knowing what is in store, good or bad, comfortable or uncomfortable, desired or not, breathe…and trust…and watch…and hope…and breathe.


Happy New Year, and God’s peace be with us all.

Deb

Burning a Yule Log & Looking for a Bright Star

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

In a previous city in which I had lived, my friends hosted an annual, festive Winter Solstice party in their home. It was held on or near the winter solstice (which is on or near December 21). Because of my ministry as a pastor of a church, the season of Advent (the four weeks before Christmas) and Christmastide (the 12 days from December 25 through January 5) was a busy time for me. Nonetheless, I always found it refreshing to gather with friends around the yule log and observe the winter solstice…

Just a quick review: the winter solstice is the shortest day of the year. After the winter solstice, the days start to get longer. People observed the winter solstice long before Christianity was established. Many Advent and Christmas customs that Christians observe (e.g., Christmas trees and lighting candles) have roots in much older traditions and ancient folk customs that were later absorbed by Christianity. For example, in Scandinavian countries long ago a “yule log” was rolled through the streets then burned in a symbolic bonfire (hopefully, to destroy the sorrows of the past year and bring good tidings of hope and joy to the city and its residents in the future).

… Back to the Winter Solstice party. Each year, guests at this this party were invited to bring a small remembrance (perhaps written on a piece of paper) or a sprig of something flammable (like a piece of a dried stick or a tiny evergreen branch) to place upon the yule log. I always thought about what I wanted to burn – get rid of – from the past year for some significant amount of time before this gathering. As I reflected on the season that had passed, I always had something to burn (either literally or symbolically). Other people at this gathering symbolically put their disappointments, failures, bad choices, addictions, sins, and just “garbage” on that yule log along with me. (I am so glad that this was a communal event and not something that one must do all alone.)

After food, drink, and some readings appropriate for the winter solstice, the strongest people of the bunch would lug that yule log with all our sadness, grief, sorrow, and regret to the huge fireplace in the living room. I would typically recall the lyrics to an old drinking song-turned-Christmas carol that has been adapted over the centuries:

Deck the hall with boughs of holly,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
‘Tis the season to be jolly,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Fill the meadcup, drain the barrel,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Troll the ancient Yule-tide carol,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!

See the blazing yule before us,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Strike the harp and join the chorus.
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
Follow me in merry measure,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la!
While I sing of yuletide treasure,
Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la! *


I usually stood there with tears in my eyes – sometimes with a feeling of regret and sometimes with a feeling of relief as I watched the yule log (with all our collective disappointments upon it) go up in blazes.

Perhaps this year as we all prepare for Christmas, we would be wise to burn our sorrows and sins of 2020 on a yule log… or upon any log… in a cozy fireplace, in a blazing outdoor firepit, even over a flaming candle. What are the things that you would chose to burn up before meeting the Christ child born for us on Christmas morn? Our racism, sexism, classism, and some other “ism” of which we are guilty? The confusion brought upon us by Covid-19 and our 8 months of social distancing? Our stressful Presidential (and other) elections? Please join me in burning up our regrets and disappointments of 2020.

I will be looking up at the night sky on the Winter Solstice and I hope that you will, too. Astronomers call the Winter Solstice of 2020 the “Great Conjunction.” Jupiter and Saturn will be so close to each other that it just might look like the legendary star of Bethlehem over the place where the baby Jesus was born!

Here is a link to a scientifically correct article about what to expect this year on December 21.

As Christmas draws near, look up into the night sky, burn a yule log, raise a celebratory mug of some festive beverage, and reflect upon this familiar piece of scripture (Matthew 2:9-11 NRSV):

“When they [the wise men or astrologers] had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage.” Amen.

*Lots of versions of “Deck the Halls” are available. Wikipedia indicates “The English-language lyrics were written by the Scottish musician Thomas Oliphant. They first appeared in 1862, in volume 2 of Welsh Melodies, a set of four volumes authored by John Thomas, including Welsh words by John Jones (Talhaiarn) and English words by Oliphant. The repeated “fa la la” goes back to the earlier Welsh and may originate from medieval ballads.”

Here is what I have done every day during the pandemic.

by Gordon Street, SWC Commissioned Minister for Reimagining and Connecting with the God of One’s Own Understanding

Faith and spiritual practices sustain me during this uncertain pandemic era and unprecedented election season. Because my ministry focuses on helping people connect with a God of their own understanding, I want to share a few thoughts about what has helped personally these last many months.

The solution always is faith. But what does faith really mean? A quirk of the English language is that faith can be only a noun when it really should be a verb because faith is not what I think, it is what I do. Paul, in Hebrews, says “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” That means faith is the result of hope, the evidence of the unknowable. How I choose to face each day and what I do during the course of each day produces faith. Faith does not guide my actions. Actions produce my faith.

Here is what I have done every day during the pandemic. Each day I begin with a prayer for wisdom, strength, willingness and courage to face the things I must face. I also pray for the world, my family, my First Church beloved community, and my friends, to help them in all their needs. Most important is my prayer that God’s will be done in their lives as well as mine. I don’t pray for outcomes. I pray for attitudes in circumstances.

I, like most people, am cooped up at home. I reach out the friends, family and even strangers every day to see how I can be of service to them and give words of hope and encouragement.

In other words, I pray for faith for myself, and the rest of my prayers are for everyone else. Take the focus off of me. I believe my prayers and actions embody Jesus’ suggestion that we love God with all of our being and love our neighbors as we love ourselves.

Faith doesn’t mean everything will be alright, and I’ll win the lottery too.

God doesn’t necessarily make everything all better. God grants me the willingness, strength, and courage to handle whatever I am facing. God is with me and embracing me through it all. Especially during difficult times. I am comforted by knowing I’m not alone in difficulty.