Trying to Be a Bridge of Grace

Over the last several days, if you have been on Facebook, you may have noticed a blossoming of profile pictures containing a red rectangle with an equal sign in it. This is to symbolize that these persons are supporters of marriage equality regardless of sexual orientation. One young adult member of Christ Crossman wrote to ask me what the stand of the UMC is. This is a part of what I wrote in reply:

“Many, in the USA, in the UMC would take a progressive stand, but there are also many-- and also in the global church, especially in Africa and the Philippines who do not. Currently, the official stand in The Book of Discipline is not for that view. Last year at General Conference there was a resolution proposed to admit that we do not all agree on this. A coalition of conservative Americans joined with the African and Filipino delegates to defeat that resolution--which wasn't seeking actively to change the BOD, but to admit we don't agree.

“My stand is that when I don't know for absolute sure, I choose to err on the side of grace. I have been hosting sessions that I call Holy Conferencing where persons who do not necessarily agree sit at the same table for discussion that is primarily aimed at learning how to listen to one another rather than batter the other into silence because they don't agree.

“Just as I do not put bumper stickers on my car, I don't use Facebook to proclaim my positions. I have no problem with others doing it. I often cheer when I see or read statuses, and cringe when I read others. My own call is to be a bridge or a mediator.

“Our God is far larger and more gracious than most of us can conceive. We live in the in-between times: the Kingdom is among us, but not yet fully revealed. Christ is victor but the powers that be are still fighting.

“Don't give up on the UMC by any means. Keep us growing towards the fullness of God's vision for us. And when you encounter someone who does not agree with you, love them anyway. Extend them grace. Pray honestly for the best possibilities that God has for them, not for how we may want them to be. 

“I give thanks for how I see God at work in you and in your life. You and so many of the young adults (that I first knew as youth) give me great hope. You are indeed living out the call of Christ in your life. You have more opportunity to be the face and hands of Christ to more people through your life in a "secular" job than I do in the church. You are why I do what I do. You inspire me.”

Hold - Clutch

Part of my routine in the morning is to read the paper and then work most of the puzzles in it. In this morning’s Jumble, the clue of one of the words was “hold.” The letters were unjumbled to make “clutch.” Immediately, I thought about holding on tightly, often too tightly.

After I finished the puzzles I sat down at my spinning wheel to practice. For me it has been like rubbing my stomach, patting my head, and jumping on one foot, all while reciting the Gettysburg Address. In other words, there are several things going on all at once. After pre-drafting the fibers, which means pulling them lengthwise so they aren’t so thick, I start the wheel turning by working the treddle which twists the starter yarn to which I attach the drafted fibers. Now this is where I have been having trouble getting the rhythm going. While my right hand manages the twist keeping it from going further into the fibers than it should, my left hand drafts the fibers out more. The right hand is supposed to let the energy or twist build up just enough, and then let the yarn move on to the bobbin. If my right hand holds too tightly, the new yarn keeps twisting without moving on to the bobbin. If I hold too loosely, the fibers that have not yet been drafted get twisted up. Or I allow the yarn to move on to the bobbin before it has enough twist.

Today, as I plied together two single yarns I had spun, I reflected about holding and clutching. As a mother, if I hold on to my sons too tightly in a clutch then they don’t develop enough independence and initiative on their own. If I hold too loosely, then they might feel adrift in the world before they are ready to take it on. It’s a delicate balance.

There’s also a balance in holding and yet not clutching with our faith, and in our life. Jesus said that “unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain. But if it dies, it bears much fruit.” If we love our lives so much that we clutch on to them, then we never get the experience of trusting God enough to let go so that fruit can develop.

I am just beginning to catch the rhythm of holding the twist and moving it on to the bobbin. Nothing fancy yet, but I can see yarn growing under my eyes. In my life and faith, it is also a process of learning to catch the rhythm of holding on to Christ and trusting enough to let go. I think I will keep on practicing.

Where I'm From

The following is my response to the online Lenten Retreat entry, Return--by Way of Story, by Jan Richardson and Garrison Doles:

Where I'm From

I’m from many places woven together--

from the black, flat soil of near coastal Texas

with a cottonfield across the alley

and cottonmouth snakes nearby

and rattlers in the yard.

I’m from Mickey and Mary Grace

who hailed from Alabama

meaning weeks in the summer

swimming with cousins in lakes

created by the dammed Tennessee.

I’m from Virginia which confused

me for years, a Texas/Alabama girl transplanted

in colonial soil with a history that

sometimes held its nose up high

not allowing me in its close circles.

I’m from a year in California

living on soil that had filled in the bay

knowing that I didn’t belong for long

and forging a link with the East

I could finally claim.

I’m from ‘Hooville, a center of the universe

finding in the foothills friends at last that endure

for a lifetime, slowly hearing my call

to proclaim and embody God’s holy

healing Word and Body.

I’m from the varied soils of North Carolina

studying down the road from tobacco

curing redolently in the warehouses,

traveling the mountains and hollers of

little churches in the summers.

I’m from the churches of Virginia by

graveyards of saints who lived and

died in a journey of faith living again

in the lives of their children’s children

who most accepted me as their pastor.

I’m from a partnership in marriage

with highs and deep lows, serving together

until his journey began to take a different

path towards Rome, no longer receiving

bread and wine, Body and Blood, from my hands.

I’m from the deep soil of being a mother

of two miracles--a son given by a teenage girl,

placed in my arms at ten minutes old; and a

son born late when I had thought

my womb would never bear.

I’m from the soil of the cemetery

across the road where my husband of

many highs and deep lows is buried

giving me a taste of widow’s weeds and

in the midst of grief hope for new life that now arises.

I’m from the deep soil of friends and colleagues

with whom I can share and vision together

how God’s grace and mercy can touch and

deepen a community that goes beyond

the bounds of church walls.

I’m from many places yet unseen or explored

that with those known weave together

a tapestry unique and beautiful

of colors and textures

to enliven the soul.

A Pause in the Action

There are times when we need a break, a pause in the action. Today was just such a day. There was just enough snow to call off school and close many offices, but not so much that we had to get out and shovel it off. While I still did work, I did it at home without feeling pressure of a deadline.

One of the top ten laws that God gave to the covenant people was to keep the Sabbath holy, a day of rest set apart to honor God and self. Jesus reminded us that the Sabbath was made for us, not the other way around.

When I work out with my trainer, he reminds me that the pause I need between exertions is not just because I am a neophyte. We need to pause between exertions so that our bodies, down to the very fibers of our muscles, can recover. If we keep going and going, then we actually can break down those fibers. So it is with our whole beings. We need a pause between exertions so that we can recover and grow stronger.

I give thanks for this day, this pause in the action.

Mark 2:27-28

Then he said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”