A Church Dares to Change

As I walked the dog this evening, I thought of a congregation that is making an amazing witness as they step out with faith and courage. Burnt Factory UMC was my first appointment as pastor. I was so naïve. I can’t stress that enough. When I was asked by a reporter from my hometown about whether the people would accept me as a woman to be their pastor, I said that I just planned on loving the people, and that love would prevail. In so many ways, I was so naïve that I did not truly realize how opposed some of the people were to me as pastor. Thanks be to God for that shield.

At BFUMC the people truly loved God and wanted to serve. When something needed doing, they worked together to make it happen. Part of that grew somewhat of being a “family” church, with one particular family being dominant by sheer numbers. That could have been an invitation to be inwardly focused, but as I keep up with the congregation on Facebook, and in other ways, I marvel at how thirty-one years after I moved from there, they are showing their love for God and God’s people in such a way that they are in the process of demolishing parts of their building in order to expand it so they can reach new people for Christ. And in usual BF fashion, they are carefully taking down parts so they can be reused, doing as much of the work as they can themselves. They are daring to take a risk, to step out in faith in order to reach people who need God’s love.

This raises a question for me: how williing am I to be bold, to dare to step out in faith when I cannot see where two steps more of the path will take me. That requires trust; it also requires courage.

Courage

The etymology or root of the word courage comes from the Latin word cor which means “heart.” Courage is a matter of the heart. While some define courage as facing a difficulty or a danger without fear, I rather think that courage is facing that difficulty or danger even in the face of fear. Sometimes courage is getting up in the morning when all seems bleak and lost. Sometimes courage is going to bed knowing that someone you love is in pain, and all you can do is pray.

Over the last week, I have thought a great deal about courage as a step in going deeper within and facing the questions of our lives. It is looking at the unknown and taking a step towards it, maybe even while flinching inside. Courage is seeing only a tiny bit of the path ahead and still stepping out upon it, knowing that God is with me.

The word courage appears only seven times in the New Revised Standard Verson. In four of the occurrences, courage fails, it melts away. Once David prays in courage. Once in Ezekiel, the Lord asks if the people’s courage can endure when God takes measures against their faithlessness. Only once does it occur in the New Testament when Paul writes to the Thessalonians, “as you know, we had courage in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in spite of great opposition” (1 Thessalonians 2:2).

Three times Jesus tells someone he heals to “take heart,” and twice he tells the disciples to “take heart” and not be afraid when they see him walking on the water.

There are moments when it feels as though the task is too large, too impossible, too fearful; at those times it seems that my heart will melt away and my courage fail. In those moments, the heart of our community gives me courage and allows me to stand up, and answer the call. In the midst of you, I find the heart of Jesus beating within me.

Mark 10:49

Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.”

Risking the Call to Belong

This week has been incredibly beautiful and incredibly hard at the same time. My friend Beth and I have been blest to be a part of Risking the Call to Belong, this year’s Habits of the Heart retreat with the Center for Courage and Renewal. On Tuesday morning Parker Palmer kept turning the prism to help us to look at belonging from different perspectives. In one way, it is a longing to be…fully human, at home in our own skin, fully alive as we journey toward death.

Belonging to community is a paradox, Palmer said. “We are made by God for community; and we are made by God for solitude. If the paradox is not held together in tension then each side falls apart into their degenerative forms.” Bonhoeffer wrote, “Let the person who cannot be alone beware of being in community; let the person who cannot be in community beware of being alone.” Being in community without being able to be alone leads to group think or mob rule, and an inability for self-awareness. Being alone without being able to be in community leads to loneliness and isolation.

The hard work of the past two days was lightened by a concert Wednesday evening. The first song took me back—a long way, though I decline to say how long. I remembered every word of Song of the Soul by Cris Williamson. The second verse asks: “What do you do for a living?/ Are you forgiving, giving shelter?/ Follow your heart, love will find you/ Truth will unbind you/ Seek out a song of the soul.”

Living in community means “continual forgiveness,” Jean Vanier wrote. Do we live in a way that invites others in to community? Do we live in a way that allows people to find the solitude that allows them to grow up, taking responsibility?

Unexpected Sabbath Time

Well, here we sit in the  gate area for our flight out of San Antonio, and it has been delayed --twice. As it is, we will not get home until after midnight. At least, we will not miss a connecting flight. So my question for myself is how do I use this unexpected delay as sabbath—a time when I can be especially aware of how God sets me free, and asks me to participate in setting others free?

I can choose my attitude during this time. I already have a full day ahead tomorrow, so I could fret about it, but I am choosing simply to accept it. I choose to hold those around me in a holy space of praying for them. I do not know their needs, or what might bind them, but I pray to the One who knows them intimately, and who seeks to be in a healing relationship with each one.

I also hold you in prayer—in the presence of the One who knows you intimately, and seeks to be in healing relationship with you.

Ephesians 3:16-17
I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.

Island Time

Beach time is slow time, or at least it moves at its own pace. This time at the beach has certainly had a different pace.

Having been introduced to Ocracoke by a college friend, I in turn introduced Jeff to this lovely island. We always camped during our early times here. Since the main campground is part of the National Seashore, there was a semi-primitive nature to it, especially in the early days when we had to use latrines and boil our water before drinking it or cooking with it. Over the years, a few amenities were added. The cold showers still operate by a pull chain, but at least they have doors. Once the island upgraded its water system and the campground was connected, real indoor bathrooms were added. There are still no water or electrical hookups at each campsite. No generators are allowed over ten p.m. because of noise restrictions.


When the boys came along, we still came to camp almost every year. We had upgraded from a tent to a VW popup camper, then to an honest-to-goodness popup trailer. We tried one more time of tent camping in  ’06 or ‘07, but a nor’easter blew in and snapped our tent poles. We rented cottages from time to time, and stayed in various motels here on the island.

Our rhythm of life here was fairly consistent. We went to the beach early to avoid the heat, coming back in to the campsite, cottage or motel around lunchtime when we took showers and ate. When the boys were little, after nap time we would stroll around the village in the shops, getting ice cream for a treat, buy our groceries and the ever-needed ice for our cooler. In the evenings, we would talk walks on the beach. Over time, we got to know a couple of the islanders. We especially enjoyed our talks with Philip. He and Jeff would cover many topics.

The last time we came with Jeff, he did some of the activities but mainly stayed inside reading and journaling. Max and I would roam around the shops. This time, Max and I are in a cottage on Back Road. His friend Neil is with us. The guys have rented bikes and keep their own schedule mostly. The flow of my time is more gentle than ever. I walked on the beach, staying out of the water mostly because of the numerous sharks close in to the coast this year. Most evenings I go to one of the offerings on the island. On Monday, I saw A Tale of Blackbeard, a great offering by community theater. Last night, I enjoyed the songs and stories at the Ocrafolk Opry. Tonight, I will go hear Molasses Creek, a trio. I have had time to talk with our friends Philip and Lou Ann. Next time I come to this magical place, it may well be by myself, or with friends. And a new rhythm will unfold.

The picture was taken last night at the Opry during the final number, I’ll Fly Away. I don't need to fly away to find a piece of heaven. Ocracoke is one my thin places where I come to reconnect with water and rest, and spend time soaking in God’s renewing rhythms of life.

Seeking a State of Non-Equilibrium

I took this picture this week. I think that anyone who has done moving, rearranging, downsizing, or just plain cleaning can appreciate.   It sums up a simple truth: clearing out chaos often creates new chaos on the way to new order.

How often do I feel that the chaos of life seems overwhelming! I work to clean up an area. In the process, I create a new mess. Then I have to figure out what to do with the new mess. I confess that sometimes I am so overwhelmed that I throw my hands up in defeat—at least for the moment. I have to walk away and leave it, sometimes hoping that it will have rearranged itself in my absence. That has never happened, but I can hope.

Change can feel the same way, even when it is for something “good,” but especially when it is for something we did not ask for or want. We would rather that we could find balance or equilibrium. In considering the latter, Margaret Wheatley checked its definition in the American Heritage Dictionary: “Equilibrium. 1. A condition in which all acting influences are canceled by others resulting in a stable, balanced, or unchanging system. 2. Physics. The condition of a system in which the resultant of all acting forces is zero.”[i] Stable, balanced, unchanging? The result of all acting forces is zero? She writes, “I don’t believe it is a desirable state for an organization. Quite the contrary. I’ve observed the search for organizational equilibrium as a sure path to institutional death, a road to zero trafficked by fearful people.”[ii]

Too much of life is spent looking for equilibrium—stability—in the misguided hope that we can stave off something that is uncomfortable, or distressing. Maybe that is death, or at least loss. What if instead of trying to protect ourselves from death, or loss, or change, we take a risk and step out into the adventure that is life with God.

Wheatley would agree. “They don’t sit quietly by as their energy dissipates. They don’t seek equilibrium. Quite the opposite. To stay viable, open systems maintain a state of non-equilibrium, keeping themselves off balance so that the system can change and grow. They participate in an open exchange with their world, using what is there for their own growth.”[iii]

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[i] Wheatley, Margaret J. (2006-09-01). Leadership and the New Science: Discovering Order in a Chaotic World (Kindle Locations 1251-1253). Berrett-Koehler Publishers. Kindle Edition.

[ii] Wheatley, (Kindle Locations 1256-1257). 

[iii] Wheatley, (Kindle Locations 1283-1286).

Hebrews 11:8

By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going.

Ask, Just Ask

My father had a saying—“if you don’t ask, you only have one answer.” I try to take that to heart. Sometimes, it is hard to ask, and I have succumbed to that difficulty, having to live with a “no” simply because I would not ask. It’s amazing how many times asking leads to another answer, another way.

In one way, this past Sunday at Annual Conference, it would seem that asking did not lead to another answer. On behalf of the Resolutions committee, I made a motion to suspend the rules so that the body could approach a difficult issue another way, rather than the often rancorous, divisive exchanges that can pass for debate on the floor. The motion did not pass, so it would seem that asking did not lead to another answer, but I am not so sure.

I believe that by raising the prospect of another way, even though it was not chosen, we helped remind people to approach the debate differently—at least some of them. Also, because of the possibility of this other way, there were preparations made that I believe also made a difference.

As a part of the possibility for holy conferencing in small groups, we had prepared crosses made of cardstock. These crosses had been held during the prayers of the people by my congregation, and during our staff meeting. They were imbued with the spirit of prayer for all God’s people. Then on Saturday night, volunteers placed them around the arena to be ready to be used on Sunday morning. As they placed the crosses, they prayed. We walked around the meeting space praying—not for a particular outcome, but for a listening spirit for the Spirit’s presence.

So, Daddy, I followed your rule. I believe it helped. Though my plan did not proceed as intended, God’s Spirit was present. I felt it. I hope others were aware of it as well. The answer was not in the results, but the attitude with which we looked towards the other.

Matthew 7:8

For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.

You Gave Me Room

In reading for a short term study on the Psalms this month, a note in Fr. Roland Murphy’s book The Gift of the Psalms caught me—not just my eye, but my heart. In a section on salvation in the psalms, he noted that salvation is many things--redemption, safety, healing, relief, release, and more. Then he cited from Psalm 4: “You gave me room when I was in distress.”

Room—not a room, but room. It is more than giving someone space; it is space that is defined, but not by boundaries that are to keep one penned in. The sense I get is having a safe place that allows me freedom from being pressed in.

Immediately, my thoughts went towards being a parent. I know there were, and even still are on occasions, times when I dealt with a son’s distress by hovering close, and by asking too many questions. I realize that I was trying to alleviate my distress over their distress. I have found it is more important for me to let them know I am here, close by, but not hovering, giving them room.

I think about how much room God gives me in my distress, not jumping in to resolve difficulties, and yet not leaving me without any moorings. What a gift of grace this is!