Rooted in God’s Love

 I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may …grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.  (Ephesians 3:17-18)

Yesterday was a warm, breezy day. The tips of the daffodils could be spotted, bravely pushing their way through the chilly soil, seeking the sunshine.

Today it is snowing. Pine branches droop as they are weighed down by the falling snow.  The daffodils are nowhere in sight.

Tomorrow’s forecast predicts temperatures near 50 degrees.

It is said that the only thing we can count on is that nothing remains the same.

Things change.  Often in an instance. 

I think about the people in Ukraine who were living ordinary lives until suddenly they were living in a country at war.

I think about people who were simply going about their lives – at school or grocery shopping or attending a concert or at a prayer service when shots were fired and their lives changed forever.

I think about the people in Syria and Turkey who went to bed one night only to be convulsed by waves of terror as an earthquake struck.

          Change enters our lives in so many ways. Sometimes it’s a happy occasion like graduation, birth, a new job, or a new friend. Other times it’s a phone call, accident, betrayal, or diagnosis that alters our life forever.

            And then what?  How do we weather the storms?  How do we navigate our new circumstances? 

            Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, says that when we root ourselves in God’s love, we will discover just how trustworthy and constant that love is.  Paul reminds us that even in a world where everything changes, God remains the same.  God is God – yesterday, today, and forever.  God’s love is “steadfast” – unchanging, always there, always available.

 The phrase “rooted in God’s love” makes me think about plants or flowers or long grass that may be tossed about by damaging winds but which remain strong because they have put their roots down into the soil and water below.

So the question for all of us is – how do we root ourselves in the love of God?

When everything is turned upside down, how do we remember to call upon the faithful one?

As we journey through Lent, with our eyes on the Cross and our hope in the promise of resurrection and new life, let’s explore our roots – and how we can tap into the power of God.

Artwork: Roger Solomon

What we can become

I dream that the end of the pandemic will look like those old pictures of V-E Day when the end of World War II was announced. In my imagination, I can see people pouring into the streets as they hear the welcome news, “You can all come out now!  Go ahead – you can sing! Hug! Gather together!” And there will be shouting in the streets as people laugh and shake hands and throw their masks in the air like graduation caps.

Will it really be like that?  Probably not. But whenever the pandemic ends and however gradual that end might come, I think we will discover just how much we have changed through this experience. We are living through an era of history that will be taught to generations to come. Children will learn about this time when the world slowed down, even stopped sometimes, in an effort to keep ourselves healthy and safe.

It may take years for us to fully understand how the pandemic has changed us. We have lost and given up a lot during these long months. Much has been taken away. Many have lost loved ones. Students and teachers mourn the lack of “ordinary” events like gathering in classrooms for learning, conversation, and exploration.  Parents yearn for a day without juggling work and online school. Churches stand empty and congregations yearn for shared worship and fellowship. Visits with friends, family, and neighbors are put off “until it is safe.” Beloved events and traditions have been put until – we hope – next year. Holidays are being scaled back or cancelled altogether.

Yet we are not without hope. My faith reminds me of the promise of resurrection and new life. And already – in the midst of this pandemic – we see signs of creativity and renewal. People have refused to simply give up despite the necessary restrictions placed on our behavior.

So I celebrate every ounce of innovation that has blossomed during this challenging time. Cheers for restaurants who have created outdoor dining areas, kudos to schools who have developed new ways to teach, congratulations to neighbors who visit in their yards, and blessings on congregations everywhere who have discovered new meaning in the words, “where two or three are gathered in my name.”  

We are changing, we are growing, we are learning. Some activities we will gladly leave behind in the Covid era. But other new ideas will strengthen us in the days to come. We can’t fast forward through this experience. But we can trust that we will emerge stronger and with a greater appreciation of what we are missing now. New possibilities await.

Art/Line Drawing: Radici Studios. www.radicistudios.com

Be a mustard seed

Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20)

 Do you ever feel overwhelmed these days? The problems facing us are overwhelming. The wildfires out West. The ongoing pandemic. Systemic racism. Political turmoil. An angry and divided country. Not to mention your own personal challenges, worries, and struggles.

            What can we do? It is easy to feel helpless or powerless against such powerful forces. We might convince ourselves that there is nothing we can do. We might convince ourselves that our small effort or our tiny voice will have no impact against such crushing, frightening opposition.

            When the news is unrelentingly bad, we can remember Jesus’ description of a mustard seed. That tiny kernel holds tremendous promise.

Be the mustard seed.

In the face of incivility, name-calling, and callousness, be a mustard seed of kindness and courtesy.

In response to anger and impatience, be a mustard seed of empathy.

When rudeness seems to prevail, be a mustard seed of calm.

When prejudice and fear seem to rule, offer a mustard seed of justice and fairness.

It may not seem like much.  That is the point of Jesus’ message. Our offering doesn’t have to look impressive or showy. God promises to use our gifts, no matter how big or little. And if we have only the smallest particle of faith to offer, go ahead and give that to God. God will do the rest.

            Our only mistake would be to give up. The size of our faith doesn’t matter. We are asked to trust that God will take the tiniest amount of love, hope, faith, mercy, compassion, and good will and bless that. God promises to take our meager offerings and multiply them.

            It may seem like we are tossing a tiny pebble of love into a swirling ocean of hate and turmoil but God says – go ahead! God will use what we offer.

            Go ahead and be that mustard seed of love, listening, and caring. We are encouraged to do what we can and trust that God will bless that effort. And just like in a garden, the results may not be immediately apparent. There may be some waiting involved. We are asked to keep planting, keep working, and keep trusting.  God is at work.

            The only mustard seed that is wasted is the one that is never planted. So go ahead – be a mustard seed. Offer your love, show your compassion, and share your kindness. We are invited to speak, listen, pray, care, and act – and then trust that God will cause those offerings to grow and multiply.

So proud of you!

It’s been a long 10 weeks. Since the pandemic began, our lives have changed dramatically. As things have shifted, we have adjusted to new ways of doing things. We have had a steep learning curve forced upon us. This strange new world demands new skills. Even activities that we have done for years suddenly require new approaches. The whole experience is both exhilarating – we’re learning something new! – and exhausting – we have to ponder every move.

            I want to pause in the midst of this time of learning and adjustment and say – I am proud of you. You are doing it. You have risen to the occasion in so many ways.  Even if these adjustments have come only grudgingly and under duress, you are allowing your creativity to shine. In every renewed effort, in every fledgling attempt to meet the demands, and in every act of caring, I see the new life and new possibilities promised by our resurrection God.

Let’s take a moment and recognize all the effort that has been required in these last months:

  • Parents who are juggling working at home with helping your children with online classes – good for you.
  • Teachers who are skilled and knowledgeable in their classrooms and who suddenly had to engage in an entirely different way of teaching – thank you.
  • Students, young and old, who are missing their friends, yearning for play dates, and craving time to hang out in person – you’re doing great.
  • Nurses, doctors, lab technicians and health aides who are overwhelmed by the enormous increase in life-threatening cases – we are grateful for your efforts.
  • Grocery store clerks, delivery workers, postal employees – all of you who never considered yourselves to be “front line” workers who make our economy run – thank you for keeping us connected.
  • Restaurant owners who never had take-out service before and never considered outdoor seating – we appreciate your ingenuity and creativity.
  • People who hang up hearts along the roadside and in front of their homes as a sign of encouragement and togetherness – thank you for sharing the love.
  • Senior citizens who are venturing into realms of social media and mastering Facebook, YouTube, and Zoom – good for you!
  • High school seniors who are missing class trips, proms, yearbook signings, and graduations – our hearts go out to you.
  • Pastors, rabbis, and imams who have been transformed into videographers and on-camera preachers – thank you for learning new ways to share God’s Word and hope.
  • Neighbors and friends who leave gifts of food, flowers, and kindness on doorsteps to offer encouragement and love – your kindness matters.
  • Creators of cards to be delivered to nursing homes and hospitals – thank you for lifting spirits.
  • Organizers of birthday parades, teacher celebrations, and student celebrations – thank you for sharing joy.

There is much that we are missing as we enter into our third month of pandemic and physical distancing but you have proven your resilience. You have demonstrated your creativity. You have lived your love and shared your empathy.

And I am tremendously proud of you and grateful for your efforts.

Good for you!  Thank you.

No Going Back

There is a yearning in people’s voices when they ask, “When can we go back to normal? When can we go back to our usual routines? When will things go back to the way they used to be?”

To which I would answer – there’s no going back.

And what’s more, if we really think about it, I don’t think we will want to.

            The experience of the pandemic with its social/physical distancing has changed us. It has shaken us up and taught us a few lessons. Yes, we’ll be glad when we can meet together again. We will rejoice when stores and restaurants are open and we can invite friend over again. But some pandemic experiences might have opened our eyes to changes we want to make in our lives and the life of the church.

Here are some things the pandemic has helped me learn –

  • I actually enjoy sitting on my front steps watching the birds, looking at flowers, and noticing clouds drifting overhead. When I was busy rushing from one event to another, I rarely took time to soak up the beauty around me.
  • Livestreaming our worship service has changed our congregation. It enables people across the country and around the world to join us in prayer and praise. People who have moved away, friends and family across the globe, and those who cannot leave their homes now come together to worship.
  • Zoom Bible study allows equal access to fellowship and learning. Can’t get to East Woodstock?  No problem – call in or turn on your computer and suddenly you are part of a weekly gathering.

Why would I want to “go back” and forget these valuable lessons? Instead of yearning to “go back” to what was, we can consider how to “move forward.” Moving forward, how will I safeguard my calendar so there is still enough time to breathe and enjoy a slower pace?

  Moving forward, how will our church ensure that everyone can access worship on Sunday morning – either in person or from home? Moving forward, how will we reach out to the medically fragile who cannot risk sitting in a crowd? Moving forward, how will we take what we’ve learned about technology and social media and put that to work for our children, young people, and seniors?

            There are parts of the pandemic that we will be eager to leave behind. But let’s move forward with the new skills and insights that we have gained. Church, school, families, businesses, and all of us will need to adapt to our new reality. We can move forward in this new era knowing that God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever journeys with us.

Refuge

One of the sorrows in my life is that I can’t draw.

One of the joys in my life is that I married a man who can.

            Often I will describe an image to him – something that came to me in a dream or after praying or during a journaling moment. I wish I could just pick up a pen or paintbrush and transform my thoughts into a picture. Somehow my brain and my hand do not communicate that way.

            So I share the picture in my head with him through words. “It looks like this,” I say earnestly. And he listens. He asks questions. And then he draws. It is a marvel to me that the image in my mind and the description of my words can come to life on a page.

            This image is called “Refuge.” I imagined a small boat protected from a raging storm. The wind and sea are wild and fierce, yet this tiny vessel has found a place of safety and protection.

            Throughout the pandemic thus far, the verse “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46) has stayed with me. The word “refuge” has taken on new meaning to me. A refuge is not a place to live or even necessarily a place to hide. A refuge is a shelter. It offers protection. And protection might bring about renewal. Refuge provides a moment of calm in a storm. It is an opportunity to catch your breath until you are strong enough to go out to face whatever challenges are waiting.

            I have a sign in our home that reads, “Sometimes God calms the storm. Sometimes God lets the storm rage and calms the child.”  Remembering that God is here and receiving God’s calming love – that is refuge for me.

 This picture reminds me to search for God’s refuge. I might find it at the dinner table with my family or in the garden filled with flowers. Watching the birds at the feeder or listening to music can provide moments of refuge.

            A refuge is not a permanent dwelling place, but it does provide soothing comfort and a reminder that I am not alone.

            This picture reminds me of the renewing power of refuge. 

            Thank you, Roger.

Signs of the times

Have you noticed the signs of these times? I’m not talking about the daily briefings from the White House or the updated lists county by county of illness and mortality rates. There are other signs these days – signs to lift our spirits and signs to remind us we are not alone. Nowadays when we take a rare drive around town, there are signs and symbols everywhere.

            People have stopped by our local park to hang up signs on trees to thank health care workers, offer encouragement, and express appreciation.

Thank you to care workers

            More and more homes (and churches) are displaying teddy bears and other stuffed animals in windows so children can participate in a “bear hunt” as they view furry friends symbolizing solidarity and caring.

            Sometimes “signs” are delivered sight unseen and only discovered later. I was delighted to find a beautifully painted flower pot filled with pansies on my doorstep with a card to lift my spirits. Someone else dropped off an Easter basket with chocolates for my family with the message, “Thank you.”

            Sweet Honeycomb, a wonderful Christian resource company based in Australia is providing free coloring pages with uplifting phrases. People have been decorating them and hanging them in our church windows as a reminder to passers-by, “we are all in this together.” I love the idea that people across the world are sharing these positive messages as a global reminder that we can carry on, one day at a time.

            On the Saturday before Easter, members of our congregation were invited to stop by the church to decorate the front doors of our church with paper hearts. Even while maintaining proper social distancing and never coming in direct contact with one another, our congregation managed to work as a team to produce a bright and power proclamation of God’s love.

One of the front doors of the East Woodstock Congregational Church

            In these days when we are not allowed to gather together but when we all need encouragement more than ever, how will we share hope and Good News? What signs have you seen?  What signs have you shared?  This new era of physical separation calls on our creativity – what new ways can we use to reach out to one another? This is the time to consider who might need a cheery message or a note of caring. This is the moment when, while feeling powerless against an invisible virus, we are empowered to use our imaginations and find ways to help one another with support and encouragement.

Signs of encouragement

      How will you add to the signs of the times?

Corona and Self-Care

It’s been a long week, hasn’t it?  It seems hard to believe that just seven days ago, I was agonizing over the decision about whether to hold worship in our sanctuary. Now the idea of groups coming together is horrifying. As a result, online gatherings are springing up everywhere. Classes, youth groups, Bible study, yoga, “zoom”ba (love the name – exercise via Zoom meeting!). Even online pottery classes and art lessons. We are discovering a whole new way of connecting with each other.

            But it is a steep learning curve for many of us. Throughout the week, I found myself shaking my head and muttering, “They didn’t teach me this in seminary.” Of course, when I first arrived at the East Woodstock Congregational Church in 1987, the church still had a mimeograph machine, a rotary dial telephone, and was proud of its up-to-date electric typewriter. Fast forward to 2020 when I spent this week learning how to hold online meetings and discovered the advantages of establishing the church’s own YouTube channel. Whew.

            Whether your routine has been disrupted by working at home, homeschooling your children, adjusting to extended periods of alone time, missing loved ones in hospitals and nursing homes, yearning for social interaction, or being deprived of opportunities to shop, eat, and gather together – this has been a big adjustment.

It’s time to take care of ourselves.

Being tough and determined is fine, but it is also all right to also acknowledge that this isn’t easy. It is hard to completely change our way of life in a matter of days.

Now it’s time to think about what would feed your spirit, what will calm your anxiety, and what will help you get through one more day at a time. Maybe the first thing is to turn off the news and step away from the computer for a while.

 We can listen to the wisdom that mothers and grandmothers have been offering for generations – get some fresh air, exercise, eat healthy meals, get enough sleep, and drink plenty of water. Be gentle with yourself. None of us have done this before. We don’t have to be good at this right away. Very few of us are natural isolationists.

 Find words of Scripture, poetry, or music that comfort your heart. Search for hope and encouragement. And then share that with others – in the midst of our own challenges, we need to remember those who were already struggling before all of this started.

And through it all, God will be with us.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  (Philippians 4: 4-7)

Corona and Community

The world seems to be divided into two distinct groups – huggers and non-huggers. Some people announce their preference during introductions.  “I’m a hugger,” a new acquaintance informed me. “Do you mind? It’s so good to meet you.” At the other end of the spectrum are folks like my uncle (a confirmed non-hugger) who insists that a “hearty handshake” is sufficient to convey good wishes and affection.

Nowadays, neither form of expression is acceptable or encouraged.

The Coronavirus has reestablished societal rules that would warm a Puritan’s heart.

“No touching” is the recommendation of the Center for Disease Control.

“Stand at least three feet apart,” advise many doctors.

“Don’t get too friendly,” seems to be the general advice.

            A large part of gathering together as the people of God is the act of caring for one another. Whether we assemble for worship or fellowship or a shared meal, there are always extended periods of hugs, handshakes, and hearty pats on the back. The warm, caring congregation I serve often expresses their concern and compassion with these personal, physical forms of affection. They are treasured by the vast majority of our congregation and particularly by those who live alone or are mourning or lonely or seeking the warmth and reassurance of human touch.

            So we enter a new era – hopefully a temporary one – where we must discover new ways to greet and honor one another. We decided against eliminating our post-worship receiving line where huggers and non-huggers greet me and engage in conversation. Those encounters are priceless. Ministry is, at its heart, all about relationships and the bond we share. In those precious moments I can ask about someone’s health, check in about children or parents, or hear a brief recap of a trip. Now we need to learn to do that without physical contact.

            We are experimenting with creative alternatives. Some people offer a “Namaste” with prayer hands in front of their chests while others fold their fingers into a heart shape to express their affection. Some people have tried tapping feet but many of our older folks envision themselves toppling over and opt to keep their feet firmly planted on the floor. The Vulcan hand signal, arms crossed over the chest in a symbol of an ancient cross, and simply bowing to one another are all options.

            We are dipping our toes into the beauty of American Sign Language. Last Sunday a teacher of the Deaf taught us the symbol for “peace be with you.” Dabbling with a new language reminds us that God speaks in many ways. As we learn new expressions, perhaps we will become more attuned to the nuances and needs of others.

            None of us asked for this era of fear and concern that the Coronavirus has thrust upon us. But God is good. There are many ways to be in community with one another. Whether online or in person, whether in close contact or maintaining “social distancing,” we can honor the most important elements of community – listening, loving, caring, and accompanying one another on the journey.

What is mercy?

My star gift this year is “mercy.”  What comes to mind when you hear that word?  My initial thought was that “mercy” is given to a prisoner by a captor. That goes along with the dictionary definition: Mercy is “compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm.” After reading that I felt slightly guilty since it made me wonder what I had done that deserved punishment or harm. How bad was I that I required mercy?

On further reflection, I realized that every month I drive to the Mercy Center in Madison CT, a beautiful retreat center on the Long Island Sound that is run by the Sisters of Mercy. They are renowned for offering hospitality and welcome. The Mercy Center is a place of rest and renewal. That definition of “mercy” appeals to me. Who doesn’t need a safe, comforting spot where one will be loved and accepted? It sounds like healing and new life.

In order to learn about mercy, I’ve started a collection of quotes. Maybe you’ll be able to add to them – I have, after all, a whole year to immerse myself in the study of mercy. Here are some quotes that speak to my heart about mercy:

  • “Mercy and forgiveness must be free and unmerited to the wrongdoer.”
  • “It is mercy not justice or courage or even heroism that alone can defeat evil.”
  • “But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’ for I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners,” (Matthew 9:13).

I’ve also been listening to songs with the word “mercy” in them.  This one is my favorite so far – it’s called “God of mercy (Prayer song)” by Lou Fellingham. Do you know any songs about mercy?  I would be glad if you could add to my collection. 

There is something both powerful and humbling about realizing that God gives to us what we need, not what we deserve. God offers forgiveness, love, new beginnings, and – mercy. We don’t have to earn those gifts. They are provided because without them we would be bereft. What if we could be so generous with others? What if we were that generous with ourselves?

If you have a star gift, I hope you are enjoying it. (And if you would like me to mail you one, you can message me your address).  I would be interested to hear what you have learned so far, what questions you still have, and where you are being led to explore. I will continue to immerse myself in learning about mercy and I will share what I learn with you.

In the meantime, be merciful with yourself and others.