Tag: hope

Speaking Truth is a Duty

guest post by Kay Huggins, Interim Executive Director, New Mexico Conference of Churches

I’ve been speaking with pastors over the past two months and although I have 5 specific questions, the content of these conversations is deep and wide. A few themes are emerging:

Hope: I anticipated hearing at least a few complaints, but frankly, there have been precious few. Most pastors experience great satisfaction and joy in their callings; some feel overwhelmed; but, rarely is heard a discouraging word. Moreover, the sense of hope is linked to growth among the members and leaders of the churches: new ideas, new visions, new challenges and new opportunities are combining to create new steps for Jesus’ followers.

Relationships: Every pastor, at some point and always in a unique manner, identified ministry as grounded in strong relationships: with family, colleagues, members, neighbors, and friends. Moreover, all affirmed that their effectiveness in ministry is directly related to these relationships. Most spend time and energy being with others — so that together, they will be strong for doing the ministries entrusted to them.

Speaking out…together: This theme included a bit of sadness and/or frustration. Almost every pastor interviewed expressed a passion for speaking the truth of our Christian values and convictions in a bold and free way; but also expressed was the persistent awareness that in our culture, the voice of many churches is inaudible. The “Christian voice” has been kidnapped by evangelical or conservative churches and the progressive or socially engaged churches have been put on mute. The pastors I interviewed longed for to speak out, together, and be heard.

In these days of political turmoil and distress, the voice of the silenced progressive, socially engaged and liberal Christian churches is needed. A very helpful article, “Unprohibited speech“, Christian Century, July 20, 2016 reminds:

“There’s no law against religious leaders speaking and living out the truths of their faith…What (by law) is prohibited is an explicit endorsement of a candidate.”

This is followed by a stirring string of strong words churches may speak.

“Churches are free to say that a candidate who threatens opponents with violence is undermining the basis of community.

They are free to say that a candidate who targets people of one religion for discriminatory treatment is attacking the basis of everyone’s religious freedom.

They are free to say that campaigning by name-calling and personal insult is an affront to reason.

And they are free to say that a candidate who sneers at the disabled, ridicules people because of their appearance, and promises to engage in torture fails to understand that all humans are made in the image of God.”

Dear ecumenical community, we are old and young, rich and poor, Protestant and Roman Catholics living in New Mexico; let us speak up as individuals, as church leaders, as congregations, as an ecumenical community of believers. Let us claim the freedom we have to lift up our distinct and deep Christian values…especially within the current political context.

Share with me your statements and I will share them with the ecumenical community of the New Mexico Conference of Churches.

I remain, steadfastly, Kay Huggins, Interim Executive Director.

Living in Hope with Polycythemia Vera

by James Briney

An elderly monk told me that faith is a gift.  That explanation satisfied my curiosity about why he became a monk.  This made sense to me, given his history as a grizzled mountain man, who had been recruited off a barstool in Montana, by an Anglican bishop.  The encounter may have been random, but it changed his life.  Polycythemia vera (PV) is a gift because it reminds us of our own mortality.  Currently PV can be treated but not cured.  With rare exception perhaps, there is no remission.  I think of PV as relatively subtle and relentless.  A similar disease took the life of my youngest sister.

A gift is something that is given to us.  Although there is no definitive evidence that my disease came to me genetically, there is a familial cluster that may be random.  My primary care physician suspected my condition on the basis of a routine blood test, that was confirmed by an oncologist.  Within days, I was accepted as a patient by the hematologist who is treating me.  Upon first acquaintance he began appropriate therapies immediately.  That was in 2009.  The reality is that without treatment I may have been dead within 18 months, so I am thankful for the timely diagnosis.

A gift may be played with as an amusement or be of some practical use.  Polycythemia vera is not a playful distraction, but the treatment does require toying with available therapies to keep it at bay.  At the onset of my diagnosis, I felt like I would die within three weeks if I went to bed and pulled the covers over my head.  Until then I had known there was something wrong with me, but I did not know what it was.  My balance, vision and mental acuity were off.  A few months before the first inkling of the diagnosis, I fell down three times in the course of running bases during a softball game.  I dismissed that as being clumsy and out of practice.  It turns out that I had blacked out each time.

When people who know that I am sick tell me I look good, I say this disease does not make a person look bad, it just kills us through an increased risk for heart attack or stroke.  I had a stroke on April 3rd of 2013.  I was not able to speak and my left cheek was droopy.  In the midst of all sorts of tests and evaluations the condition resolved itself.  The miracle is that my wife and the congregation I serve are glad I can talk again.  To avoid speculation and rumors I promised all concerned that I would provide updates, as information about my health is made known to me.

Well into the first three years of chemotherapy injections, and the occasional phlebotomy, I shared with a study group that the drugs I am using have been known to stop working after a couple of years, and that my bone marrow could stop making red cells altogether, instead of too many.  There was a gasp, followed by a woman asking me what I would do if this happened to me.  I said I was thinking about staying limber so I could bend over and hug my behind goodbye. Humor is one way for us to keep from becoming black holes of concern.  We can take the edge off with candid humor that is not coated in denial and by listening to the specific vulnerabilities of the people we know.

The flip side of humor, or a shocking smart remark, is pondering that we are connected with everyone who is dealing with something.  I believe there is more to life than life itself and that life is a journey for the soul.  There are more dimensions than meet the eye.  Prayerful contemplation of quantum and cosmic consciousness is fun.  We benefit when we do not squander our opportunities to engage serious thought in conversation.  It is not useful to give in to fear.  That’s why the gospel invites us to love with all of our minds and all of our hearts, no matter what is happening to our bodies.

Each time there has been a new development in the progress of my disease, I have embraced it as an opportunity to evaluate my priorities.  When I was diagnosed, I decided to do what my doctor advised.  I considered how I was living my life within my means and realized that I had no interest in creating a bucket list.  Instead, I resolved to stay the course I was on by earning, saving, investing and serving.  A difference is that I have become steadfast and intentional about doing such things for others.

Our disease can be liberating.  It gives us a certain focus attached to the perspective that we are not going to live forever; while having clarity and sufficient energy to endure.  That is a gift because it provides us with the choice not to succumb to despair.  We contemplate the eventuality of our own death.  Our doctors think about helping all of us.  I have thought about what it is like for them to lose patients over time as they participate in research and await trials that are apt to hold the key to a variety of cures.  I figure if the scientists and medical professionals can work and live in hope, then so can we.

I do not think of myself as battling cancer.  I think of myself as living longer and feeling better than I would have without treatment.  None of this has to be experienced as a struggle.  It just is what it is.  Faith and belief are not the same things as proof and knowledge.  Yet I believe the very same answers formed in discovery and discernment will satisfy both scientists and theologians.  When I am offered unsolicited advice about diet and homeopathic remedies by well-meaning individuals, I thank them and say that I am open to such things.  Also that I have a doctor who cares about me and that I am sticking with his protocols.

Whatever your faith may be, and whether it is weak, strong or absent, it makes sense for us to participate in our own well-being by keeping fit, and leaving room for the spirit within us that is holy.  When I think about what our doctors are doing for us, I am reminded that Jesus was not being modest when he said: ‘You will do greater things than I.’  At a genetic and cellular level all sorts of things are being surmised and explored in laboratories.  Some of my hope lies with the professionals who are not driven by profit and personal gain.  My doctor could have made more money, and had an easier time of it, had he not been called to serve his patients.  Luckily for me, he decided not to pursue another passion.  When I was wondering what may be next for me, he said: ‘I will see that you get what you need, my friend.’

I had named my youngest sister, taught her to read, and saw that she was able to go to college.  Long before I was diagnosed, I was the donor for her bone marrow transplant. When she died in the wee hours of the morning, I stepped onto the porch of her modest house on a tree-lined street.  Quietly, as her body was taken away, I looked to an ambiguous sky, and said: ‘Okay, God. Whatever else you have for me, bring it on.’  That was not a dare, merely a realization that I could not imagine anything that would be more painful for me to bear.  This is easy, this disease of mine.

Our challenge is to not become complacent or to take for granted what others are doing to be thoughtful and supportive of us.  My wife has been there for me every step of the way.  The pathway to ultimate success in terms of research, remission, and cure is permeated with a sense of transitory discouragement.  What difference does it make?  Will it make a difference in our lifetime?  Recognizing the value of advances in medicine that may be helpful to another human being is a consideration.  But in terms of self-awareness and self- interest, it is important to see there is hope in being alive longer than we might have been otherwise.  And there is hope in knowing the effort is being made to provide us with therapies that are available.

I take no satisfaction in being aware that there are people in the world with our disease who have not been diagnosed.  But knowing that I could be collapsed in an alley from fatigue, or on the streets of a village, town or city, with flies buzzing around, and people stepping over me, helps me to embrace my own situation.  I am mindful that I am living in the comfort of my own home and being cared for by a doctor who has the capacity to persevere.  That’s a big part of what I think faith is about.  In the face of challenges and in the context of uncertainty we do what we are able to do, especially when we do not know what is yet to come.

The probability that I would be diagnosed soon after my doctor moved his practice from Minnesota to Arizona is about as remote as the mountain man advised by a bishop to become a monk.  As rare as our disease is, we are not alone.  I have taken in stride the latest development that my bone marrow indicates progression and that the treatment for me remains the same.  Jesus died not knowing if his life and sacrifice had been worth it.  He drew his last breath thinking he had been forsaken by God and abandoned by the people closest to him.  Because we have doctors who care for us we have not been abandoned.  Because our doctors have hope we have not been forsaken.

******* 

Rev. James Briney is the pastor and teacher for the members and friends of Oro Valley United Church Of Christ in Arizona; having served congregations in Goshen, Indiana; Luzerne, Michigan; and Medford, Wisconsin. He has earned degrees in Philosophy and Theology and has held positions of responsibility and authority in the public sector, the private sector, and the church. He has run and won 24 come-from-behind issues and candidate campaigns by relying on reason, information, and facts in an atmosphere of good faith. In 1999, 2003, and 2013, Jim established funds with community foundations to promote integrity and excellence. Dr. Ruben A. Mesa suggested that he write something for patients with polycythemia vera and the doctors who are treating them.

The Hope Which Springs Eternal Within the Human Breast

by Donald Fausel

The title for this blog was stolen (like in baseball) from a poem I memorized in grammar school, Casey At the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer in 1888.  He in turn stole (like in plagiarism) the line from an essay titled An Essay on Man by Alexander Pope in 1733-34.

Just in case you can’t remember the poem, or never heard of Mighty Casey, here is a brief summary. The baseball fans of Mudville, who were watching their team lose that day, were divided into two groups, the “struggling few (who) got up to go leaving there the rest” and the loyal fans who stayed because of their belief in the “hope that springs eternal within the human breast”, and they were counting on Mighty Casey to whack out a home run and win the day for the Mudville Nine. If you want to know the outcome of the game, click on the link above.

As an example, it seems to me that in some ways, many of us are waiting for “a Mighty Casey like” person or movement to fulfill our hope that climate change isn’t as serious as ninety-seven percent of scientists believe it to be, and we can go about our life as usual. If we’re one of those deniers, I think we need to listen to the wise sage Pogo, who said in a 1971 cartoon, “We Met the Enemy and He is US” Pogo’s declaration has become a universal truth that applies to most organizations, including the church. Like many others, I believe that the laity is the key to change.  Having aired our grievances, and recognized that we are part of the problem, we need to keep hope alive. We all need to become change agents and not just “leave it up to George”. This blog will focus on those who believe that “hope that springs eternal…”, and are willing and able to follow Pogo’s challenge to be part of the solution.

HOPE and HOPELESSNESS

So, here are a few words about hope and hopelessness. I don’t intend to use “hope” in the biblical or theological sense, as in Faith, Hope and Charity, but in a more everyday way, as in “Hope is the belief in what is possible and the expectation of things to come.”  Or as St. Augustine of Hippo described it, “Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are Anger and Courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are.”  Or if we think of hope as a movement, the Chinese author and Guru Lin Yutang described it as, “Hope is like a road in the country; there was never a road, but when many people walk on it, the road comes into existence.“

In a previous blog Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness , I introduced the founder of positive psychology, Martin Seligman. If you want to refresh your memory you might check that same blog in a section entitled The Science of Happiness.  And if you haven’t listened to Dr. Seligman’s TED TALK entitled The New Era of Positive Psychology I think you’d find it very helpful.

The first thing we need to decide “Is hope a feeling or a cognitive process?” In an article titled Hope: A Way of Thinking, C.R. Rick Snyder, a deceased positive psychologist, “…offers a way of looking at hope that goes beyond defining hope as a feeling.”  In an article by Dr. Brene’ Brown, Learning to Hope , she summarizes Snyder’s method by saying hope happens when:

  • We have the ability to set realistic goals (I know where I want to go)
  • We are able to figure out how to achieve those goals, including the ability to stay flexible and develop alternative routes ( I know how to get there, I’m persistent, and I can tolerate disappointment and try again).
  • We believe in ourselves (I can do this!).

Dr. Brown is a research professor at the University of Houston. She is the author of three #1 New York Times Bestsellers: Rising Strong, Daring Greatly and the Gifts of Imperfection. She is also the Founder and CEO of The Daring Way and COURAGEworks – an online learning community that offers eCourses, workshops, and interviews for individuals and organizations.

Here is a video by Dr. Brown titled What is Hope?  The introduction to the video reads: “This is a wonderful video by Brené Brown on the subject of hope and how we can all learn to be hopeful.  Watch and learn!” I agree!

I suspect that many of us have experienced hopelessness at some at time and at some level in our lives. A loved one dies. We lose a job. A friend disappoints us. You name it… Well here is an opportunity to listen to a TED TALK by Nick Vujicic. The title is Overcoming Hopelessness. Nick was born in Melbourne, Australia in 1982 to a Serbian immigrant family, without all of his four limbs. During most of his childhood he suffered with depression. It’s hard to even imagine going through life without hands or legs. But Nick decided to “…concentrate on what he did have instead of what he didn’t have.” His first speaking engagement was at age 19. Since then he has traveled around the world “…sharing his story with millions, sometimes in stadiums filled to capacity, speaking to a range of diverse groups…” In 2007 he moved to Southern California where he is president of the international non-profit ministry Life Without Limbs. This is his website and it’s worth checking out.

Three years ago I read one of his books, Life Without Limits.  At that time in my life I had just lost my wife from lung cancer and I was grieving her death. As I read what Nick had gone through I was inspired by this exceptional man. He tells the story of his physical disabilities and the emotional battle he endured trying to deal with them as a child, a teen and young adult.  As he said in his book, “For the longest, loneliest time, I wondered if there was anyone on earth like me, and whether there was a purpose to my life other than pain and humiliation.” He shares with his readers that his“… faith in God has been his central source of strength… and explains that once he found his own purpose—inspiring others to make their lives and the world better—he found confidence to build a rewarding and productive life without limits.

Even though there are fifty five years between Nick and me, he’s one of my heroes.

Look Back in Wonder

by Talitha Arnold

“For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust, O Lord, from my youth.” – Psalm 71:1-6

A few years ago, I did a solo hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, spent two nights at Phantom Ranch, and then trekked back to the top. It was the fourth time I’ve done the hike, the first being when I was in college, the last ten years before. Not surprisingly it took me a bit longer to get back up this time.

Hiking the Grand Canyon is hiking a mountain in reverse. The hard part comes when you’re already tired and the rim is a mile from the bottom as the crow flies, except you’re not a crow and the trail up is nine miles long.

I have to admit that there were a couple times on the way up that I thought to myself, “This is truly the dumbest thing you have ever done.” Of course I think that at mid-point in every major hike. But as before, the journey was worth it. When you hike the Grand Canyon, you’re walking through literally billions of years of time and almost every eco-system on the planet, down to the center of the earth and back.

When I made it up to the top, I sat on the rim for a long time. I wanted to give my calves a rest and also simply look back down on the trail I’d just hiked. I was filled with a sense of wonder at both the Canyon’s deep beauty and the fact I’d made it down and up once again, proving once again that God loves fools.

“For you, O Lord, are my hope,” writes today’s Psalmist. She or he looks back on their life and knows that God has been “my trust, O Lord, from my youth.”

With the wisdom of the Psalmist, the old Gospel song proclaims, “My soul looks back in wonder at how I got over.” It’s a good thing do every once in a while along the way, whether you’re sitting on the rim of the Grand Canyon or in your living room. Look back in wonder at your journey and the One who’s been with you every step of the way.

Prayer

Thank you, God, for walking with us and for the wonder of it all.

Here’s the thing…

by Davin Franklin-Hicks

Are you ready for the thing?

The thing is for every living being on this earth, there is risk and there is beauty.

The thing is for every person who harms someone, there are a ridiculous amount of people who do not.

The thing is that we are constantly recovering from something because that is the nature of living. Our bodies, our families, our friendships, our world are adjusting and healing in ways we could not imagine.

The thing is if we turn toward and walk through the dark nights of the soul, we are fostering an internal and external world that is truly healing.

The thing is if you are recovering from trauma the best thing to do comes from Anne Lamott: “Go only as fast as the slowest part of you.”

The thing is, we heal, we love well and fully.

The thing is we step into the stream of life and it gradually, ever so slowly returns us to the present moment and opens us to life in ways we cannot fathom.

The thing is… Life takes a lifetime and we have so much life ahead. The best is yet to come. I know that and honor that in you.

The thing is love.

Lent: a time for fast living

by Rev. Dr. William M. Lyons
Designated Conference Minister
Southwest Conference UCC

This year I’ve decided to make Lent a time of fast-living.

The Urban Dictionary’s definition of fast living (no hyphen) describes patterns of behaviors that “lack morals, … dangerous, reckless activity that endangers their own well-being and safety as well of others.” The season of Lent offers some of us an opportunity to interrupt our fast living and invites us to pursue more settled, healthy choices. That’s not the fast living I’m embracing or choosing to surrender this Lent.

For others of us Lent has become a season during which to reign in our overindulgences, or to abstain from a benign pleasure in favor of a more spiritual pursuit – no alcohol, no chocolate, no you-fill-in-the-blank, more prayer, more giving to the poor, more you-name-your-spiritual-practice.

That’s not the kind of fast living I’m choosing either.

I’m choosing to make this Lent Isaiah’s kind of fast living. Nathan Nettleton’s translation from Isaiah 58 explains it best.

Listen to what God has to say about your sins: “Do you really think this is what I like to see:
……..a day of pious misery?
……..black clothes, long faces and crocodile tears?
……..giving up chocolate and ice cream?
Do you think that’s worship?
……..Do you think that pleases me?
…………….Give me a break!

“Do you want to know what I’d really like to see:
……..dismantle the structures of injustice;
……..take your feet of the throats of the poor;
……..stop jailing the victims of unfair laws;
……..and quit plundering nature’s resources.

“Do you want to know what else I’d like to see:
……..open your tables to the hungry;
……..open your hearts and your homes to the refugees;
……..open your wardrobes to those without clothes;
……..and don’t go hiding every time you see someone in need.

“Do that, and I’ll put your name up in lights!
……..Do that and our relationship will be healed in an instant!
I’ll put you under my personal protection;
……..anyone who attacks you will have to deal with me, the LORD!
I’ll be on hand to respond whenever you need me;
……..just say the word, and I’ll be there for you.

“If you abandon all forms of exploitation,
……..and avoid bad-mouthing others to gain an edge;
if you share what you have with those in need,
……..and respond to the real needs of suffering communities;
then you’ll find that the world will light up for you
……..and life will be one beautiful day after another.

“I, the LORD, will always be there to guide you;
……..even in the grip of drought,
……..I’ll keep you healthy and well fed.
You’ll be like an irrigated vineyard with it’s own deep bore,
……..green and lush and full of life!

“Your ruined houses will be renovated and new;
……..you’ll be able to restore the homes
…………….that have been in your families for generations.
You’ll get a reputation for making dreams possible,
……..for enabling everyone to find a good place to live.

Go ahead. Make Lent a time for fast living Isaiah-style. Just imagine the kind of new life we’ll be able to celebrate this Easter if we do!

God, help me – help us – find meaning in Isaiah’s kind of fast living these next 40 days. Amen.

Advent

by Amos Smith

“The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” –John 1:5

This is the first week of Advent!

Church of the Painted Hills UCC put out an “Advent Meditations” booklet this year. It is wonderful to read people’s varied Advent reflections and stories. It makes Advent personal.

The essence of Advent and Christmas for me is the affirmation that against all odds, in the midst of darkness of global terrorism, in the midst of the darkness of massive environmental degradation, and all of our adult struggles, there is a Light in this world. This Light shined in the most obscure of places–in a backwater of the Roman Empire that no one knew about called Judea. In that backwater on a speck of planet in an average sized galaxy called the Milky Way came a brilliant Light. This Light was so brilliant that it transformed and healed everything around it and spawned a faith that eventually spread to over one-third of the world’s population.

We need to know that there is a Light in this world that participates in the Light that shown at the beginning of time (Genesis 1:3)… A Light that spoke a word into the shadowy chaotic deep… A Word that created order and beauty and meaning out of chaos (poetically rendered in Genesis 1).

When our lives are plunged into chaos after the death of a loved one, a car accident, a random act of violence, a divorce… It is in those times of darkness that we most need to know that there is a Light.

That Light of Christ is the reason for the Advent and Christmas seasons. It is the reason we lift up our hearts and voices every Sunday. In that spacious Light, in that primordial freedom, we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28).

Advent blessings!

It’s About Love

by Jeffrey Dirrim

Ruth 1:16-17 Message (MSG)
But Ruth said, “Do not pressure me to leave you or to turn back from following you! Where you go, I will go; Where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die— There will I be buried. May the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you!”

On the morning of October 17, 2014, U.S. District Judge John W. Sedwick’s ruled on two federal cases, declaring Arizona’s ban on same-sex marriage unconstitutional. Arizona’s Attorney General Tom Horne advised the state would not appeal the ruling and instructed the county clerks to immediately begin issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples.

That evening, there were tears of joy flowing like a fountain at our UCC Southwest Conference office in central Phoenix. Everyone in the packed room and those listening from speakers outside cheered as our then Conference Minister, Rev. Dr. John Dorhauer, announced to a standing-room only crowd that he had performed Arizona’s first legal gay marriage ceremony. As is John’s nature, he quickly turned the attention away from himself and focused on the true meaning of that historic day. “It’s about love,” he said.

The Spirit was thick in the room and I feel it now as I recall hearing that simple sermon over and over again. I first heard it on the radio that morning through Phoenix Mayor Greg Stanton’s voice as he witnessed a judge marrying a gay couple in his office. I saw nervous brides and grooms at the Maricopa County Courthouse receiving this message when offered free flower bouquets and celebratory bubbles by Dena Covey and other laity. I first heard it in person while taking pictures for fellow clergy members Barbara and Rich Doerrer-Peacock as they co-officiated a lesbian couple’s service on the front steps of that same courthouse. And I read them in a beautifully colored sign waved gleefully by a young daughter as I married her two moms late in the afternoon.

The book of Ruth shares the story of hope through the unlikely pairing of two destitute foreign women. During a bleak famine in Naomi’s homeland of Judah, her family decides to move to the pagan land of Moab. Instead of answered prayers, she finds more misery over the course of the next decade. Her husband dies, her two sons marry Moabite wives, and neither marriage brings her grandchildren. Naomi feels God has judged her too as both of her sons die. It is in the deep grief of these tragedies Naomi decides to return home to Bethlehem.

Ruth is the young poor Moabite widow of Naomi’s son Mahlon. She understands the hopelessness shared by the much older and wiser Naomi who tries to persuade her to stay in Moab. But determined to support her, no matter the outcome, Ruth accompanies Naomi home responding “where you go, I’ll go.” There Ruth is working in the fields during the next harvest when a wealthy landowner by the name of Boaz first sees her. Based on the customs at the time Boaz is able to act as a brother to Naomi and eventually he marries Ruth. Like any good soap opera, Naomi’s shenanigans play a part leading to Ruth’s wedding. It isn’t until the conclusion of their misery-filled story we learn they have played a part in bringing God’s plan together for the future of the Israelites. Through Ruth’s and Boaz’s son Obed, father of Jesse, Naomi becomes the great-grandmother of King David and is a direct ancestor of Jesus. It’s a surprise to find that hope can be found in hopelessness.

What is hope? It’s expressed through the imperfect lives of Ruth and Naomi as being faithful, patient, trusting, kind, selfless, and even strong in conviction. It’s believing God will provide in the midst of great tragedy. It’s knowing in those seemingly Godless moments that we have a purpose and we keep moving forward. Hope is God’s love for each of us.

As we celebrate the first anniversary of legal same-gender marriages in Arizona, we’ll be celebrating it with newlyweds Nelda Majors and Karen Bailey. Nelda and Karen were the lead plaintiffs in the federal lawsuit that eventually overturned Arizona’s ban on gay marriage. In fact, Nelda and Karen were the first couple to receive a marriage license in Arizona. Karen told me the nuptials that followed a short time later “were a celebration.” They have publicly shared how they lived their lives in hope, but never really thought they would be allowed to legally wed. Nelda and Karen, like most of Arizona’s lesbian and gay couples who’ve married over the last year, have been together a long time. The State’s recognition of their relationship is simply an affirmation of what God has witnessed for decades.

Their journey began during the late 1950s with a new college friendship. Within the first year they became a couple and have now been together longer than they’ve been apart. Nelda and Karen share a love story of light even in the darker times they spent living in the closet. What I’ve witness in them is a faithful pairing. Two people that stuck together, determined to move beyond the odds. Two people that created a beautiful family. Two people whose heartfelt confidence in each other led to creating a better world for the rest of us. It’s true there are similarities between their journey and Ruth and Naomi’s story. While sweet, that is not what I’m left discerning on this historic anniversary.

I’m wondering why so many couples identify with the Ruth and Naomi story? Is it the early tragedies they feel and/or the hope they seek? Or are they merely wanting confirmation of a happy ending before they promise to stick around through thick and thin? While life is beautiful, the Bible reminds us it isn’t fair. And where do we fit in the story? Is it possible that Nelda’s and Karen’s journey offers us Naomi’s sage wisdom? What a wonderful representation of Naomi that would be today! And If so, does that mean we are Ruth in relationship to them? If our postmodern Christian faith rests in a call to action, what are we supposed to be doing after all the cameras have gone and we start moving toward Karen and Nelda’s second anniversary?

One of the most powerful pieces of the marriage liturgy we celebrate through Rebel & Divine UCC is a moment after the vows when the spouses are asked to turn and face all of those present. They recognize their chosen family of witnesses and realize, sometimes for the first time, who is there to support them. AND THEN the community creates a covenant with them. Through love they promise the newlyweds to be there in both good times and bad. The covenant is supportive, patient, forgiving, trusting, steadfast, and loyal. It recognizes the divinity within love. Acknowledges it is bigger than all of us. Knowing wherever we find love, we find God, and it is holy. Whether straight, gay, or somewhere in between.

Maybe the story of Ruth is calling us to do the hard back-breaking work in the fields as she once did? Can our first anniversary gift to Arizona’s same-gender loving newlyweds be a promise? Can we join with our churches to keep pushing our southwestern states toward full LGBTQ equality? First, by fighting for justice in healthcare, taxes, housing, adoption, and employment? Second, by practicing kindness through intentionally finding ways to recognize the milestones in the lives of LGBTQ families with simple rituals? Third, by remaining hopeful in the midst of great social change? This weekend we celebrate how our diversity makes us stronger. Ruth remained steadfast and loyal while living into a difficult decision and new way of living. Her patience rewarded everyone. Will we follow her lead?

PRAYER
Where You Go, I’ll Go! Ever faithful God of many names, languages, and voices. Help us to move beyond current laws and perspectives as we live into a hope-filled new world. A heaven on earth where we recognize you in our love for each other. This weekend we celebrate the first anniversaries of legally wed same-gender couples in Arizona. In doing so we ask you to bless them and all of the couples (straight, gay, and somewhere in between) whose life journeys are lovingly leading them toward the ever-evolving institution of marriage. Amen and let it be so.

 

I Just Wanted to Tell You Something

by Davin Franklin-Hicks

I just wanted to tell you something. I think it’s time that I did.
I’m 37 when I write this.
I’ve known a lot of people who have died.
I’ve never been to war.
I don’t live in a prolific crime area.
I don’t work in a hospice. I don’t spend time in places where one would expect the end result to be death. Yet I have known a lot of people who have died.

“Get a suit. You are going to go to a lot of weddings and a lot of funerals.” Someone said this to me in 2011 when I admitted I had a problem with drugs and alcohol and wanted a different path. I spend time in places where one would hope the end result to be extension of life. Yet, I know a lot of people who have died.

What’s more is I have known a lot of people who have died recently. Their families are still reeling, recounting lost moments, angry conversations, desperate pleas, wishing they had done things differently. Their friends are still tearing up with the thought, “I can’t believe you are gone.” Their voice still hangs in the part of the brain where one can swear they JUST HEARD IT. It’s fresh grief because they just died last month, even the last week of the last month. It is likely going to happen today where I live that someone who is attempting to alleviate the endless aching of deep, deep soul pain will use the solution that always worked before and this time it will kill them.

This is nothing new. As long as there has been access to life threatening mind-altering drugs, people have used them and people have died. There is nothing new under the sun. Yet, I can still hear their laugh and their intention to stop as they wished for something better so I think I need to tell you a few things that will make me feel really vulnerable. I do feel vulnerable in this writing, but I also feel called so, here it goes…

I was different in my faith tradition and spiritual practice when I was younger. I was a super, uber born-again, biblical literalism Christian as a teen with values of complete abstinence from drugs and alcohol. I took myself to church when my friends were taking themselves to parties. I was scared of drugs and alcohol. I had lived experience of addiction from adults in my life since I was very young and I desperately wanted a life where none of that existed. I sought after a life where none of that existed.Though my values and my attempts at daily living were to walk away from any situation where drugs and alcohol were involved, there was also a deep aching for me where my sexuality and gender identity were concerned. Since this did not match the teachings and beliefs the broader church that I subscribed to at the time held, I very much felt intense shame and pain, constant preparation for rejection, a feeling of otherness at a level that sometimes relegated me to exist alone and isolated in my room, feeling desperate for love. It also led me to thinking of dying nearly all the time until I was 21. I am a queer person and transgender and this pain is a common story. My story is one of so many.

This pain accompanied me. One day, I tried alcohol. Hello, sweet relief! No pain, no worry, no fear. And the people I drank with did not care one bit that being a girl and female didn’t ever fit for me, but I was super glad it fit for them: “Hey girl, how you doing? Come here often?” I could tell the truth about the person I was and they did not reject me. With that first drink, my internal and external world had congruency. So I sought that moment over the next many years, again and again and again. Richard Rohr poses that the only reason we do something again is that the last time we did it, it wasn’t entirely satisfying. We were left wanting. The alcohol that flowed into places never touched before and met a need I never knew could be met before, awakened a wanting that would never leave. I wanted to feel that way forever and ever and ever. Amen.

I also did not want that addiction thing I grew up despising. The loss of control for me was gradual. I had dreams, I had wishes, I had hopes and even though I found sweet surrender in alcohol, it took some time for that to become my focus. It was gradual, seductive and debilitating. Without too many details, this ebb and flow of trying to be in the world and follow dreams, live values, be authentic, seek spirit while also trying to meet this ever growing need that took me further away from everything that was life-giving became a tsunami of pain, loss and certain death. I expedited this when I discovered opiates.

People often die when they combine opiates and alcohol. This combination is one of the deadliest in the world. They may not die the first time, often not the second, but if it continues, they will die at a higher rate than either alone. I know that. The reason I know that is that when all of this was happening in my life, I worked professionally as someone trying to help people who were in addiction and asking for help. It is my craft and my career. Those words, on paper, in front of me now, seem ridiculous. I was drowning trying to help those drowning. Here’s the thing, though, I didn’t know I was drowning. That’s the trickiness of this whole painful disease: you often don’t know you have it until it nearly kills you. And I thought I was breathing fine as the tsunami overtook me.

I knew if I took these pills and I drank, I could die. I didn’t consciously want to die. I had developed a lot to live for. There was incredible pain deep within that beckoned me to consider death, but I wasn’t aware of it most days. I drank and I took those pills. A few things led me to ask for help. We got that alcohol thing in check. That just freed me, though, to really start taking those pills. And I was addicted to opiates in nearly no time at all.

There are stages of addiction. It is a deadly disease, once activated, it often ends in death, but along the way, it separates the sufferer from experiencing anything loving and life-giving at all. It depletes the world from light; darkness overtakes everything in its final stages. What’s so awful, though, what’s so incredible soul wrenching, is when it started, I felt like I had finally found light. Isn’t that the worst thing ever? I finally felt peace. Ease. I felt equanimity, truly. I feel sacrilegious for that statement since there is nothing I know more soul stealing than addiction, but it finally gave me that “We are meant to love and be loved” awareness that overtook everything bad. And then it immediately started killing me.

Opiate addiction is its own animal in so many ways. I have a teacher in my life, Dr. Wen Cai, an expert in the field, who gives an amazing talk about opiate addiction I have listened to a number of times. One of the things he talks about is viewing this as the disease that it is. He describes opiate addiction as the cancer of addiction. People are dying at an alarming rate if it is not interrupted. The Centers for Disease Control (CDC) reports that every day in the United States 44 people die from prescription opioid overdose. Add another 21 people who die every day due to heroin overdose. Put another way to help us fully understand this magnitude, there are now more deaths from opiate overdose than all motor vehicle accidents and the numbers are growing. And how do we fare in Arizona? Arizona is ranked in the top 10 states struggling with this epidemic.

When someone activates the disease of addiction with their first use, opiates commonly administered the first time in pill form, they are stepping into a life and death situation. It’s a gamble every time a person uses. That alone is awful. You know what makes it even worse? The person putting that pill to their lips for the first time is often a teenager wondering what this thing their loved one has been taking feels like. And they just activated a disease that could have them dead before they ever have a chance to live.

I’m 37 when I write this and I have a full life expectancy because my disease, for all intents and purposes, is in remission due to the work I do daily to maintain recovery. If I were to use again, I would be back in the gamble of life and death.

I have known a lot of people who have died and I desperately want that reality to change. It is the work of the church with extravagant welcome to consider our role in addressing what the CDC has described as the worst outbreak of opiate and heroin addiction in the history of the world. This submission to you is just a start for a conversation I hope will be very much ongoing.

I just wanted to tell you something. I have the disease of addiction and I have hope.