Back to the Basis

I have been deleting my impulsive facebook posts lately almost as quickly as I post them.  It's a sign.  I'm too preachy for that medium these days or at least on this topic.  But I'm also waking up early in the morning with this on my mind.  So I've decided to spread it out here.

I'm hoping and praying for peace continually. News of gathering war ships is scary stuff for my timid soul.  

However, I'm also frustrated by the public reasons I'm hearing for keeping out of international events: "What's in it for us?"  "How much will it cost?"  "How better might that money be spent here at home?"  "As unfortunate as it is to know human beings are being assaulted by nerve gas, face it, people suffer all the time."  "A US military response may also harm civilians so we should do nothing."  

As I hear and read these comments, I'm asking myself what they are based on. Among my particular group of friends, one answer is their faith.  I'm guessing that their faith has been trumped by fear.  I'm listening for conviction, for commitment that seeks (or at least, struggles) to transition from statements of faith to action.  

As Christians, our actions need to flow from our moral core -- from our understanding of Jesus' example of humility, compassion, confrontive truth-telling, and self-sacrifice. "Let your attitude to life be that of Christ Jesus himself."  (Philippians 2:5a) 

For me, as a Christian, it's a question of HOW we will best help any particular group of suffering humanity.  Here's my personal list of 'whether's.'
whether we stand up against their oppressors (verbally/ militarily/ influentially);
whether we can bring humanitarian aid;
whether we step back to let others take the lead, acknowledging that in this instance we are less capable of understanding and providing what is needed in ways that are most helpful;
whether, alternatively, we accept that we ourselves are, in fact, those to whom much has been given in this instance and, therefore, from whom much will be expected. 

Looking to theology, history and culture is a way to acknowledge we aren't the first people to deal with difficulties and that we can learn from those who went before us.  Debate on these levels makes sense to me.  Just being able to make a good case for something does not automatically make that a valid biblical stance; on the other hand, discerning and following God's lead often isn't easily explained to others, but there we are met and blessed by God's promised presence and power. 

Do we remember that Jesus is at table with us, at the computer, tablet?  His companionship makes all the difference.  All. The. Difference.

Following Jesus means I factor all of these weighty matters honestly, that I take risks with an attitude of humility, trusting that God will use my response. It means I throw my personal influence behind outcomes derived from such motives on local and national forums. The only cautions I find in scripture are to repress my instinct to stay where I'm confident and secure in my own understanding, to avoid judging others as having lesser insight or value than myself, and to self-examine my real motives.   

I guess, to be completely honest, I have never understood selective-biblical-literalists.  Jesus says love your enemies.  Surely the complexities of our decisions need to begin there.

Whether we work for peace by negotiating further or by taking action against oppressors, we need to re-frame the discussion so we claim and seek to act consistently from our core truths.  

Grace and Peace,

Pastor Shirley

Too Good

“Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be too good at what you do.”

That advice was coming from a woman who had been born and raised in Massachusetts and, consequently, she spoke with characteristic vowel sounds that made whatever she said sound curiously gentle to me.  I liked hearing her talk and I also wondered what was behind that statement so I was glad when she went on to explain.  

“Once I caught [sounds like ‘cot’] a chicken for the pot.  Had to butcher it myself.  Left a number of those pin feather ends under the skin, though,” she said with a chuckle, leaving me to apply her conclusion. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be too good at what you do because you might be called upon to do it more often.

That applies, however, only when we don’t want to be called upon again.  Perhaps we don’t want others to assume that we will do whatever it is, that we don’t want to be taken for granted.  Perhaps we just react badly to being told what to do by someone else.  Perhaps we simply don’t care for this job.  Then, doing something reluctantly or doing it poorly probably is likely to get us off the hook when that task comes around again.  Or we could just say “no, thank you,” but that might seem uncomfortable.

In any case, when I look at it that way, my soft-spoken friend is right and also pretty clever.  It's true that sometimes being competent does not pay, that is, it doesn’t benefit me.  What’s in it for me?  A lot of work.  Few rewards.

But Jesus looks at this sort of thing differently.  He isn't describing drudgery when he teaches, “You have shown yourself trustworthy in a very small matter and you shall have charge of ten cities.”  (Luke 19:17 NEB)  Jesus is announcing good news!  

Ten cities.  That’s quite a lot of responsibility.  And quite a prominent position – one I might aspire to if I want people to look up to me, or one that I might avoid if I don’t like having a lot of responsibility.  But it’s also an expanded sphere of influence within which to operate using the values of my faith -- a position from which to offer good to the world.  Those who leave pinfeathers might seem harmless, but if they are put in positions of even more influence, think of what the world will have to choke down!

In a CBS This Morning show interview recently, Tyler Summit summarized the series of difficulties that his mother (coach Pat Summit) has faced by saying, "I believe God gives us platforms."  It struck me that this is the way to receive all circumstances of our lives, not just the crucial, but also the ordinary.  Everything we do says something about ourselves.  As we practice our faith in the daily details, we are not only improving, but also proving that we are ready for what lies ahead.  Everything we do says something distinctive about who we worship.  

We are called to be those who understand even the smallest task as an opportunity to show that we have caught (or ‘cot’) on to our Lord’s way of offering healing and hope to the world he so loves. 

Even grace and peace can be delivered in very small packages.

Pastor Shirley  

three-words time

God Bless You! That's probably my all time fav 3-word greeting!

There's something about the rule of three.  I find Anne Lamott engaging and love her casual conversations on Facebook, but I am equally glad for the precision of the title of her new book, Help, Thanks, Wow.  (Make a Note: Got To Read.)

No matter how the morning is going, the TV gets my full attention whenever GMA on ABC asks, "tell us your three words."  I like the homemade banners, the children passing cards from one hand to the other.  Surely here are locally-grown, good-for-you, root-vegetable messages.

I'm drawn to these current expressions because they are the newest version of a life-long obsession.  I think I may still have a bits of poetry embedded under my skin, stuck like pencil lead from early school days when I didn't know any better.  Mark-my-words.

I had to read Dickens too, so I realize that some very significant words have a different m.o..  They're deliberately convergent, closing in from all directions with gradual, stealthy steps.  Other words seem prone to meander, strolling away with contentment, having made their contribution merely a point of departure, perhaps?

Nevertheless, there are always some words like the sharps I save in a sturdy, Tide detergent container under my sink, resting only after having delivered their intended, necessary, sweet pricks through thin skin. Those are bloody welcome.

For St. Augustine, the three words were, "Take and read," and that was the beginning.  I know this about myself:  I never outgrow the thrill of bracing myself for the puncture point of "a word fitly spoken."  God and I meet there and I realize that all the rest is "sound and fury, signifying nothing."  Yes, God comes in the flesh, a word that is true and holy, holy.

Take all of the above and mix in my call to be a minister of the Word, (not to be mistaken by me for a call to wordiness.)  It's definitely three-words time for this blog:

Yes, Much, Others.

Yes (as in 2 Cor. 1:20),
Much (Acts 4:33), and
Others (Phil. 2:4).

Dare. I. Add.
Look. Them. Up?

PS