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Tea & Empathy

Jul 09
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Complete and Incomplete Forgiveness

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The following is the full text of the July edition of my monthly column, Tea & Empathy, in the Redmond UMC Newsletter. Click here to go to the RUMC website to download the newsletter.

Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.

-Luke 6: 36-37

These words are spoken by Jesus as he is teaching his followers about how they should behave. Throughout the gospels we find Jesus sharing similar messages forgiveness. Consistently the theme is, “your heavenly Father has forgiven you, thus you must also forgive others.” The Scriptures are pretty clear that we are to forgive one another, but we find that when we actually try to make this work in our lives, it’s not a simple or easy task.

It’s pretty easy to forgive someone who has apologized, made genuine amends, and made an effort to cease any wrongdoing. But what about when the person who has hurt or harmed us refuses to acknowledge wrongdoing? We may find it painfully difficult to “forgive and forget.” We may believe that we are doing something wrong if we just can’t “let it go.”

But complete forgiveness requires repentance (changing behavior) on the part of the one who harmed us. If they refuse to apologize or stop their harmful behavior, then we can find only an incomplete forgiveness. We must accept that we have no control over their actions and we cannot force them to change. In fact, I’d advise you not to “forgive and forget” because if they haven’t repented, you don’t want to put yourself in harm’s way again!

Complete forgiveness—which we could also describe as “reconciliation”—requires a holy conversation between the harmed and the harmer. It requires that the harmer listen closely to all that the harmed has to say. It requires that the harmer sincerely apologize, make amends, and repent. It requires that the two decide together how things will be different in the future.

If you are struggling because you are stuck in an incomplete forgiveness, please be gentle with yourself. You are doing the best you can. And if you have harmed someone, please don’t use the fact that you have access to the abundant forgiveness of our Heavenly Parent as an excuse not to do the painful work of repentance and reconciliation, here and now.

All of us have been on both sides of this equation. What a wonderful world it would be if all of us committed to true reconciliation when hurt has happened between people!

May 07
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Be Still?

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The following is the full text of the May edition of my monthly column, Tea & Empathy, in the Redmond UMC Newsletter. Click here to go to the RUMC website to download the newsletter.

Be still and know that I am God
– Psalm 46:10

This well-known scripture is frequently heard in our Christian communities. It’s often used as a reminder to us not to worry, to relax and trust in God. It may be used to remind us that “God is in charge” and allow us to let go in situations where we are trying to control something that really cannot be controlled. But what does this really mean, to “be still”? I am wondering how many of us are able to really and truly be still. To be quiet—silent even!—with ourselves.

Several years ago, while I was in seminary, I went on a three-night private retreat. I saw the value in being alone with my thoughts, and planned to spend a good portion of time there in silence and prayer. What I discovered, unfortunately, was that going from “60 to 0” was quite a shock to my system. I had been so accustomed to working hard, filling my time, running from one place to the next, that to truly stop and be quiet was overwhelming. All my demons, all my fears and anxieties and other painful emotions, suddenly became unavoidable. Unequipped to deal with such a shock to my system, I left the retreat early.

As I look back on this experience of my younger self, I realize that what I needed was not to go from “60 to 0” but instead to first try going from “60 to 55” and then work from there. When we come to understand that we need to spend more time being still, it’s important to realize that the process needn’t be an overwhelming shock to our system. It can be a slow and gentle process of learning to acknowledge those demons, to simply have (rather than trying to avoid) those painful emotions.

If you are feeling the need or the Spirit’s pull to “be still,” how about taking ten or fifteen minutes each day to turn off the TV, silence the phone, and take some time to simply breathe and pay attention to what’s going on in your body. In the stillness, just breathe in and out, and check in with your heart, mind, and body. Ask yourself what sensations you are experiencing, what feelings you are having. And when you feel a painful feeling—like anger, sadness, or fear—try to just experience it rather than avoid it or talk yourself out of it.

I believe some people can do this on their own, but most will need resources of support in this process. A book I strongly recommend to those feeling the pull to learn how to “be still” is Shadows of the Heart by the Whiteheads. Another resource that can be very useful is spiritual direction or counseling, especially if you begin to feel overwhelmed or stuck. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need some assistance in finding resources.

The concept of being still can be scary and overwhelming, but stillness is a precious gift that God has given us. Don’t miss out on it because the demons have gotten overwhelming. There is hope. We can all know what it means to “be still and know that I am God.”

Apr 04
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Precious Dust

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The following is the full text of the April edition of my monthly column, Tea & Empathy, in the Redmond UMC Newsletter. Click here to go to the RUMC website to download the newsletter.

This year on Ash Wednesday we were blessed to worship with our District Superintendent, Rev. Pat Simpson, who shared a sermon with us. In her sermon she confessed her “love/hate” relationship with Ash Wednesday services, and specifically with the phrasing “remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return” when the mark of ashes is placed on the foreheads of each person. I, too, have struggled with this phrasing and reflected on it after hearing her thoughtful insights about the matter. I mean, it’s really pretty morbid. And aren’t we more than just dust?

Of course it is true that one day we will die and our physical bodies will eventually decompose (or be cremated) and return to the earth. But just because it’s true doesn’t mean it’s not a depressing and morbid thought. In a society in which we psychologically beat ourselves up for being imperfect, not to mention often experiencing tremendous fear and anxiety about our eventual death, what psychological or spiritual value is there in remembering that “we are dust, and to dust we shall return”?

In asking this question, I couldn’t help thinking of something I heard in a seminary class on Spirituality, and that is that all of us are made of stardust. I know that sounds far-fetched at first, but the truth is that all the atoms, molecules, and minerals in our bodies came at some point from the explosion of a star. In fact, all of the matter in the universe is made from the same material. The matter in your body is literally stardust. From stardust your body came, and to stardust your body will return.

So the “dust” of our bodies is less like the particles floating in the air that exacerbate allergies and create a hassle to clean up, and more like all of the vibrant, beautiful, and precious creation in the whole universe. The dust of our bodies is the same “dust” that makes up the flowers in the fields, the rocky peaks of the mountains, and even the stars of galaxies our scientists have not yet discovered. To say that our bodies are made of dust is to affirm that they are made of the same stuff that makes up all of God’s sacred creation.

Each one of our bodies is completely unique, beloved, and precious. Our bodies will die, yes. And the water and compounds and minerals that make them up will return to the cycle of life. But there will never be another body—another embodied person—just like you. So during this Lenten season, as we are mindful of our mortality and our imperfections, let us not be misled into thinking that acknowledging that “we are dust” denigrates us.

Because we may be dust, but we are precious dust.

Mar 14
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“What are you giving up for Lent?”

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The following is the full text of the March edition of my monthly column, Tea & Empathy, in the Redmond UMC Newsletter. Click here to go to the RUMC website to download the newsletter.

“What are you giving up for Lent?”

When I was in high school, this question was frequently heard among my friends during Lent and in the weeks leading up to it. It was usually answered with something like meat, chocolate, caffeine, TV, or video games. I seem to have noticed a shift in my community over the last 15 years since my high school days. Folks now talk about “taking something on” for Lent, or more readily admit to not making any changes during the Lenten season whatsoever. Fewer and fewer people are giving something up, or when they do, they link it to Lent only at the beginning—they intend it to be a permanent change after Lent is over.

I’ve been reflecting on what to make of this—is this good? Neutral? Problematic? I think we can gain some insight by looking at the history of Lent. It started way back in the days of the very early Christians, who would join baptismal candidates in fasting, praying, and confessing sins in the 40 hours prior to midnight on Easter. At midnight on Easter, all the baptismal candidates would be baptized. They would be given new white garments to wear and the whole church would join in a feast afterward, filled with the delicious foods and drinks they had been fasting from.

Eventually, this period of reflection, fasting, praying, and confessing of sins—leading up to the celebration of the resurrection and new life of Easter—lengthened to 40 days. During this 40 day period (which did not, and still does not, include Sundays) Christians would fast from particular foods, such as meats (except fish) and chocolate. Sundays were (and still technically are) “feast days” where the fast is not observed.

The real value in this period of fasting is not in the specific item we refrain from, but an intentional way of reflecting on our actions, drawing closer to God, and gaining insight about the ways the Holy Spirit is nudging us to make changes. This might include giving something we love—a food item, a television show, Facebook—for the period of lent and then feasting on it when Lent is over. It might include making a change we intend to be more permanent, such as routinely flossing once a day or beginning an intentional prayer practice.

The tremendous gift of the church calendar is that it allows for times of reflection like Lent. It is also important that we accept and cherish these gifts in ways that draw us into deeper connection with God, and are not just because we feel we “should.” I invite all of us to be in prayerful consideration of how we might use this Lenten season to draw closer to God and gain deeper insight into our lives.

Feb 09
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What we can learn from being sick

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The following is the full text of the February edition of my monthly column, Tea & Empathy, in the Redmond UMC Newsletter. Click here to go to the RUMC website to download the newsletter.

I am recovering from the worst cold I’ve had in years. I’m one of those people, who, when I’m taking good care of myself, almost never gets sick. I thank my dad for those genes! But my immune system just wasn’t up to the challenge of whatever bug my husband brought home a few weeks ago.

Being sick can teach us some important lessons. In a society in which we often walk around sort of “hovering above” ourselves, sickness really brings us into our body in a new way. It’s an opportunity to pay deeper attention to our sensations and feelings, to get more in touch with our needs and be gentler with ourselves about meeting them (for example, an afternoon nap that we would chastise ourselves for normally may be a welcome friend when we’re sick).

It’s also an opportunity to allow ourselves to be cared for. Perhaps a friend runs an errand for us or picks something up for us at the drug store. Perhaps we make a visit to a doctor to make sure that clinical intervention isn’t needed. We may have to ask colleagues to take projects over at work, or family members to help us take care of children or chores. Sickness can force us to do something that most of us find very difficult: let others help us.

Sickness also reminds us of our ultimate frailty. Being human means having limitations, not being able to do everything, and certainly not always being able to do things perfectly. Sometimes when we’re well we can forget that, and we push ourselves to achieve beyond what is reasonable to expect of ourselves; sickness has a humbling quality that reminds us that ultimately, we do have limitations.

These are some beautiful gifts that sickness brings to us, whether it’s a temporary cold or a chronic illness. There is freedom in acknowledging that we can’t “do it all.” When we learn to set aside our pride to ask for help, when we learn to set reasonable goals for ourselves, when we learn to deeply listen to our bodies about what we need, there is freedom to simply be ourselves. And that is a beautiful thing, since we may not be superwomen or supermen, each one of us is a precious creation, fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139)!

My hope for myself, and for you, is that we can remember the lessons that sickness teaches us, and live by them daily, even if/when we get well.

Jan 09
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Kindness towards our bodies in the new year

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The following is the full text of the January edition of my monthly column, Tea & Empathy, in the Redmond UMC Newsletter.  Click here to go to the RUMC website to download the newsletter.

Did you make new years resolutions this year?  I made two.  One was to be more intentional about journaling.  The other, much more difficult and important, is that I have resolved to be kind to myself, and the most difficult aspect of that, for me and for many of us, is to be kind to my body.  After all, this is a time when we are bombarded with advertisements for diet plans and gyms, we are reminded of our “overindulgences” of holiday food and drink, and we are told that there is something inherently flawed or deficient about our bodies that needs changing.  It’s a powerful cultural message, and I believe each and every one of us, to one degree or another, has internalized it.

So I’m here to propose a different way, a better way, a freer way.  How about, instead of holding our bodies up to an external standard, we learn to trust and listen to our bodies?  It is in this way that we can truly be kind to our bodies and our selves.  Instead of trying to fit the size and shape of our bodies into a culturally defined (and thus external) norm, what if we accept the size and shape of our body, as it is now… no ifs, ands, or buts?  What if, instead of adhering to rigid (again, external) diet plans, we learn to trust our body’s hunger cues to tell us what and when we need to eat?  What if we found ways to play and dance and enjoy the way our bodies can move and work, instead of forcing ourselves into external expectations about going to the gym X times per week, or spending X hours a day “exercising”?

What I’m proposing is a radical idea: to make peace with our bodies.  Peace, after all, is a radical proposition in any form.  At Christmas we talked about Jesus being the Prince of Peace.  Often, that word “peace” gets watered down to mean something closer to “niceness,” an artificial politeness rather than the kind of radical trust and vulnerability that is required for true peace between peoples.  If we all took the charge for peace seriously, we would have to face the reality that peace is political.  It means no more war.  It means no more oppression.  It means no more divide between rich and poor.  This is the fundamental message of the Christ, who showed us how to live in peace with one another.  It is a charge that we Christians today are not living up to very well.

But even if we wanted to live up to this charge of peace better, how could we ever get there if we’re not even at peace with our own bodies?  If our mind and our body are not integrated, not working in tandem, without kindness and trust, there is no peace within us.  And if there is no peace within us, then how can we be at peace with others?  How can we seek peace in the world?  So yes, what I am calling us to is radical.  I’m calling us to radical kindness, trust, acceptance, and love of our own bodies, for that first step is the only way that we can ever begin to find that same radical kindness, trust, acceptance, and love of our neighbors next door and all over the globe.

Dec 01
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An early-arriving Christmas may bring us joy or pain

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The following is the full text of the December edition of my monthly column, Tea & Empathy, in the Redmond UMC Newsletter.  Click here to go to the RUMC website to download the newsletter.

This year, two radio stations (106.9 and 95.7) both started playing Christmas music at midnight on Saturday, November 13th. Years ago, 106.9 played Christmas music the weekend after Thanksgiving, which turned into Thanksgiving day, then the weekend before Thanksgiving, and this year the weekend before that. So, if it seems to you like Christmas is coming earlier and earlier every year… well, you are right!

Some of you are excited about that; I know because I have seen the twinkle in your eyes as you talk about Christmas coming and I have seen your Facebook statuses celebrating the arrival of Christmas music on the radio. But some of you are less than excited about it. You may be concerned that by the time Christmas actually comes, you will be tired of Christmas. Or perhaps you are a theological pedant and insist that we are in advent; Christmas does not come until midnight the 25th!

I have been in each of these positions over the years. Some years I’ve been way too excited about Christmas to wait, while other years I’ve wished that culture could hold off a bit. This year, what strikes me is that perhaps we are all in need of a bit of a lift.

Let’s face it, RUMC. We’ve been in an economic recession for two years. Money is still tight for many of us; and for some of us we are out of work or worried about lay-offs. On top of that, many of us have been dealing with illnesses and the loss of loved ones. For some of us, maybe we just need to have a reason to celebrate.

Christmas music may give us a new spring in our step. The thought of children ripping paper off of presents with delightful anticipation may bring a smile to our face. Sometimes seeing the twinkling lights and hearing jingle bells warms and soothes our heart. And if that brings you the hope, joy, love, and peace that we celebrate throughout advent, then I say this is a good thing.

I also want to recognize that for some of us, the holidays may bring the opposite feelings of what I’ve just described. Some of us may feel anxiety about gift-giving with finances being tight, others of us might feel the pain of missing a loved one who is far away or has passed away. If you find yourself in this position, please know that you are supported and prayed for by your church family. Don’t hesitate to share your prayer requests with us. And if you need someone confidential to talk to, my door is always open.

Bottom line: do what you need to do this holiday season to be as happy and safe as you need to be, and let’s all collectively decide not to worry about what anyone else thinks!

Oct 31
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The Moral of Our Story

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The following is the full text of the November edition of my monthly column, Tea & Empathy, in the Redmond UMC Newsletter.  Click here to go to the RUMC website to download the newsletter.

I was recently asked to guest preach at Rainier Beach UMC, and the topic the pastor had chosen for the morning was “the importance of story.”  I was delighted to be given the opportunity to reflect on the importance of story in my own life, the lives of others, and of our communities.

This gave me a chance to reflect on my own story.  My story is full of joy as well as heartache, privileges as well as trials.  My story shapes who I am and who I will become.  But I’m not just a passive vessel in that process; I also have the opportunity to shape the story itself.  I have the opportunity to find out what the “moral of my story” is.

My undergraduate education was in Elementary Ed/General Science.  I wanted to be a junior high science teacher.  But after several years of subbing—and several unsuccessful interviews—I chose to return to school rather than focus my energies on getting a teaching job.  It is up to me to define the moral of this story.  I could interpret it as a failure or a lack of initiative.  But instead I choose to interpret it as part of my growing up process; part of the discernment that all young adults go through as they figure out “what they want to be.”  The gifts I gathered in my undergrad education and my days as a substitute teacher stay with me, helping me to be a better counselor, preacher, and teacher today.  The moral of my story is one of success, not failure, because that is what I have decided it will be.

What is the moral of your story?  How will you interpret the story of your past, and the story that is unfolding now?  It is my hope that you will see the ways you have been strong, the ways you have succeeded, and be gentle with the ways you have failed.  It is my hope that the moral of your story will include love, joy, and gratitude.

What is the moral of our story?  Our story as a faith community, a manifestation of the Body of Christ?  How will we interpret the story of our past, and the story that is unfolding now?  It is my hope that, as with our personal stories, our shared story will include joy and gratitude.  It is my hope that our story will include radical hospitality and welcome to our neighbors.  It is my hope that our story will include justice for the oppressed, liberation for the shackled.  It is my hope that the moral of our story will be centered in and encompassed by love.

Oct 01
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Tea & Empathy October 2010 — Self-Care

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On September 17th and 18th, 37 women joined together for the annual Redmond UMC’s women’s retreat. Our topic for the weekend was self-care, and I was teaching about it in a series of workshops focused on Mind/Heart, Body, Soul, and Community. It became clear to me by the end of the retreat that I wasn’t practicing what I had been preaching, as I was exhausted and came down with a cold the next day. I had spent the weekend teaching the women of RUMC much of the wisdom I have gathered about self-care, but I had managed, in so doing, to neglect my own self-care that weekend. I had allowed myself to stress out about staying on schedule, to worry about how some of my teaching would be received, and to obsess over details that others could have handled.

Some might say, “such is the life of a minister.” In fact, I have heard the sentiment many times that of people in the caring professions, such as counseling, teaching, nursing, and ministry, it’s considered normal and even expected that we extend ourselves, stretch ourselves, set our own needs aside for the good of others. But the problem with this is that ultimately, these behaviors lead to burnout. I spent several days recovering from having expended too much effort over the weekend; how much recovery would be required if I continually did that, week after week, year after year?

On Friday evening I opened up the weekend with the question, “why bother with self-care?” My first answer was that we must care for ourselves before we can care for others. There is a reason that flight attendants say, in the event of an emergency, to secure our own air masks before putting an air mask on children traveling with us! But there is a second reason, perhaps even more important. That second reason is that we are worth it. We are sacred children of God, created with love and precious in God’s sight. Why engage in self-care? Because we are worth it.

As I reflect on all of this, I keep coming back to Psalm 46:10, which says, “be still and know that I am God.” Be still. And know. That I am God.

So now, it is time for me to really put my own words into practice. I’m not going to berate myself for having failed to care for myself that weekend. Instead, I’m going to trust that some of what I shared was useful to the women gathered; that the knowledge and wisdom I’ve gained and shared with them will help them as they care for themselves. I’m going to do what I exhorted the women to do: release control, listen to my body and my soul, and trust in God. And I’m going to be gentle and patient with myself when I don’t quite manage to do these things.

Sep 04
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Tea & Empathy September 2010 – Accountability

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I was not in church on August 21st, because I was in Nashville with my husband Scott. The United Methodist Church had flown us down to Nashville for my Endorsement interview with the United Methodist Endorsing Agency (UMEA). Endorsement is for clergy who are serving in extension ministries, i.e. ministries outside of serving as pastor of a local church. The 2008 Book of Discipline describes Endorsement in ¶1421.5:

Endorsement is the credential which certifies that a clergyperson performs a valid ministry of The United Methodist Church and has presented evidence of required specialized education, training, skills, and, when required, professional certification necessary to perform that ministry.

The church—through apportionment funds as paid by local churches, including Redmond UMC—pays for travel and lodging of endorsement candidates and their spouses for the one-time interview. The fact that the church uses its resources in this way shows the commitment the UMC has made to supporting clergy in extension ministries. They truly take seriously their charge not just to certify us in the particular extension ministry in which we are working, but also to encourage, challenge us, hold us accountable, and support us and our spouses.

Because it doesn’t end at the endorsement interviews. Once you are endorsed, you are part of a community of extension ministers. The UMEA provides several retreats each year and other communications to support, encourage, and provide pastoral care for those of us in extension ministry. They truly take seriously the exhortation in 1 Thessalonians 5:11 to “encourage one another and build each other up.”

It may be tempting at times to write off processes like this as just one more “hoop” to jump through. But I find great value in the process of discerning, with the help of the committee, my readiness and maturity in the field to which I have been called. Endorsement is one of several other processes—ordination, certification in professional organizations such as the American Association of Pastoral Counselors, and WA State Licensure—that challenges me to build my skills, maintain my competency, and care for my own mental, physical, and spiritual needs.

Oh and just in case you were wondering, the committee that interviewed me did unanimously vote to recommend me for Endorsement. But as usual in the United Methodist Church structure, it won’t be official until the endorsing board approves it at their meeting in October. And so it goes—the blessings and drawbacks of a connectional church!

Aug 09
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Tea & Empathy August 2010 – Authenticity

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I am writing this from Spokane, WA, where I am attending Jubilate, a yearly music and arts in worship festival.  The keynote speaker, Presbyterian pastor Ron Davids, is working with us on the concept of worship that transforms… or to put it another way, transforming worship so that it can become transformational.  On the first day, he hammered home the point of authenticity being absolutely crucial to passionate, thriving, transformational worship.

Authenticity.  Not always an easy goal, in any area of life.  Authenticity requires us to be radically honest about who we are.  It requires us to take risks to speak what is true for us even when it is hard.  It requires us to be vulnerable and candid about our rough edges, the areas where we are hurting or in need of maturation.  Being authentic is challenging.  It can be difficult and sometimes even painful, but the rewards are great.

For too long, American culture—that culture in which our church is undoubtedly saturated—has thrived on folks not being authentic with one another.  “How are you doing?”  we ask, and if the answer is anything but “I’m doing well, thanks!  You?” we become nervous.  We avert our eyes when we pass someone who has a disability or looks visibly poor or homeless.  When confronted with someone in deep emotional pain, our first instinct is often to run.

We don’t seem to know how to be authentic, and we really don’t know how to handle it when other people are authentic with us, showing us their pain and struggle.  We have not been given social instruction in how to be present with someone in pain; actually this is probably the reason I have a job.  If we could be truly honest and authentic with ourselves, the need for counseling would drop dramatically.

But hiding behind fake niceties, hiding our rough edges, pretending that all is well when it is not do not lead to communities that thrive.  Our denomination is facing the reality that right now we are at a crossroads, and we must “change or die.”  This change doesn’t have to have anything to do with whether our music comes from the Hymnal or from the projection screen.  It doesn’t have to have anything to do with whether we have communion weekly or monthly.  The change is that we must learn to be authentic with one another.

This is what young people—the Facebook generation, sharing our lives online with friends, family, and acquaintances—crave.  We want authenticity; real community.  We don’t want to show up on Sunday morning and hear a nice message that makes us feel good but doesn’t challenge us, shake a few hands and eat a few cookies and then go on our way.  We, the young and the old, the cradle Methodists and those new to the faith, all of us, need a community that is saturated in trust, compassion, safety, respect, and authenticity.

This is only the beginning of what needs to be an ongoing conversation, but we can start with today.  What are you going to do today to live your life more authentically?  What small change will you make the next time you are at church, whether Sunday morning worship, committee meeting, or music practice, to be more authentic with your church family?

Jun 02
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Tea & Empathy June 2010 – Turn, Turn, Turn

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“To everything, turn, turn, turn / There is a season, turn, turn, turn” says a popular Byrds song.  Is your life turning?  Perhaps you or a family member are graduating preschool, high school, or graduate school.  Perhaps you have recently begun a new job, or lost an old one.  Perhaps you’ve been diagnosed with a new illness, or an old illness has gone in remission.  Perhaps a new relationship has begun for you; perhaps one has ended.  Our lives are often in flux, and my guess is that most of you reading this are experiencing a turning somewhere in your life.

The Byrds song is loosely based on Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, which reads:

3For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
2a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
3a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
7a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

I find this scripture both challenging and comforting.  It is challenging in the sense that it reminds us that there is a time for both things that are pleasant and things that are unpleasant; time for things that are joyful and that are painful.  It reminds us that our joys and pleasures are temporary, for a season of mourning will come too; this challenges us to enjoy and savor those moments when they come.

It is also comforting because it reminds us that even when things are painful, or scary, or very difficult, we are in the midst of a season that will, truly, pass.  Sometimes in the midst of a deep depression or an excruciating grief, we may forget there was ever a time of joy and have a hard time believing there ever will be a time of joy again.  This passage in Ecclesiastes reminds us that all of these times pass eventually.  If now is a time for weeping or mourning or loss for you, take comfort in knowing that there will soon be time for laughter and dancing and seeking.

You are invited to a Transitions Workshop, led by Katie, on Saturday, July 17th from 1:00-3:00pm in the Fellowship Hall.  We will examine the ways that we experience all of life’s transitions, large and small, joyful and painful, and learn strategies for coping with the painful aspects of transitions.  A free will offering will be collected for the counseling scholarship fund.


May 02
0

Tea & Empathy May 2010 – Mother’s Day

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This month the community celebrates Mother’s Day, a day that for many can be a wonderful time to share gratitude and love between mothers and children. For some, however, the day may bring other feelings—sadness, grief, or disappointment. Some of us are missing a mother who has passed away, some of us wish that we had more healthy relationships with our mothers or children, and still others of us want children and don’t have them. Mother’s Day can be a reminder of the joy of the gift of family and it can also be a reminder of that which we no longer have or never had.

But whether Mother’s Day is a joyous or difficult occasion, I think it is an excellent opportunity for all of us to reflect on the mothering aspects of God. As we know, there are many images for God found throughout the Bible and in Christian tradition. Most of the images are male but there are female images as well. One that is particularly relevant to Mother’s Day is found in Luke chapter 13. Jesus says, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem… How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings!” This gives us the image of God as a mother hen, drawing her chicks into the safety and comfort provided by the loving embrace of her wings.

Another image of a mothering God that has been on my mind recently is the image of the “babywearing” mother. Some mothers choose to carry their babies in a sling on their person most of the time. This doesn’t work for all families, but when it does work it can be a beautiful thing. And I wonder what it would be like if we really felt ourselves being held and carried by a babywearing mother God at all times.

Whatever your experience of Mother’s Day is this year in your community and family, I invite you to use it as a time to reflect on how images of God as a mother can deepen and enrich your relationship with Her.

Apr 04
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Tea & Empathy April 2010 – Easter

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This month I begin a new monthly column for the Redmond United Methodist Church newsletter called Tea and Empathy.  Here is April’s edition:

The eleventh chapter of John tells us about what Jesus was doing just before the Passion Story begins.  He has arrived at the home of his dear friends, Mary and Martha, as they are grieving the death of their brother Lazarus who died four days prior. The two women have very different reactions to Jesus’ arrival.

Martha’s conversation with Jesus is primarily theological; they have a nice little talk about Martha’s faith that Lazarus will be resurrected in the last days when all are resurrected.

Mary’s reaction to Jesus is a little less, shall we say, “spiritual” or “rational” about the whole thing.  Mary has been weeping, deeply distraught, and many others have been with her consoling her.  She cries out to Jesus, saying only, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died!”  Mary doesn’t have any less faith than Martha in Jesus as Lord, but in this moment she is expressing her deep pain and anger over her loss.

Jesus, in response to Mary’s pain, weeps with her.

What is remarkable about this is that Jesus has known since before he even arrived that he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead—he all but says so in previous verses.  And yet even though he knows that in a few short moments Lazarus will be alive again, he still weeps.   Jesus’ response to human suffering is empathy—feeling with—and because Mary is in deep pain, Jesus too experiences emotional pain.

Easter brings with it the amazing story of the way that love conquers death, reminding us that one day we will be reunited with those who’ve passed on, because physical death is not the end of life.  While this is a beautiful sentiment and may be helpful in our healing process when we are grieving, it doesn’t stop us from weeping in the here and now of the deep pain of loss.  Jesus’ empathic weeping with Mary affirmed the goodness and rightness of human emotion, and tells us that we do not have to suffer in those feelings alone.

So this Easter, if you are able, celebrate with Martha that Jesus is the resurrection and the life!  But if you are like Mary, feeling sad or angry or grieving, allow Jesus to weep with you, and know that you are not alone.