Letters From the Field: Lenten Letter No. 5

Letters From the Field
Monday, March 10, 2008: Lenten Letter No. 5

What I Live For (Out of the Shadows, to the Eternal Light)

I once read a question: “And what do we live for if not to make life a little easier for others?”

As a follower of the Christian faith, I can’t think of a better goal for life.

Jesus often spoke of a coming Kingdom, the Kingdom of God. This Kingdom is described as a place of great peace, justice and beauty. That world will come into existence and be maintained because humankind will have become subject to the Mind of God (Isa. 11: 9).

As I have tried to explain earlier, we need not harbor a dread of God. Our Creator has but one overall goal in mind: that we should flourish in peace and security; He seeks our eternal well-being (Jer. 32: 40-41 and Rev. 22:2). If we work to create a circle of love between ourselves, our fellow human beings, and the God who means to do us good, we create an atmosphere of security and confidence. There is no longer any reason to fear our neighbors, for we see them as a “safe place” (Isa. 32: 1, 2).

“Let this mind be in you,” advises the apostle Paul. Why? Because the mindset that defined the character of Christ is the only way of thinking that will produce lasting peace, wholeness of mind, body and spirit (Philippians 2:5, then verse 4).

There are many in this world who believe world peace is impossible. Well, they are right! If people keep thinking the way they do and stay the way they are no peace will ever come to them.

As the saying goes, “No God, no peace. Know God, know peace.”

Jesus’ message, his Gospel, can be summed up this way: “Change your way of doing things. Change your way of thinking! The Kingdom of God is coming! All that is false, all that is destructive, will be swept away! Accept the Invitation! The Father who sent me is offering you an everlasting Transformation. We will bring you a clear teaching of real hope. We will prove this to all: Love works, now and forever. ‘The glory of the LORD (His transforming love) will be revealed. All the people will see it together. This promise is straight from the mouth of God Himself!’ (Isa. 40:5). The promise to Abraham will be fulfilled; his children, after the Spirit, will be a blessing to all the nations!”

Symbols are useful to most of us. They serve as little reminders of important ideas or principles. My personal symbol of the afore-mentioned hope is a royal blue ribbon with a six-pointed star attached to it. (I call it my “think the Kingdom way” ribbon.) It is a symbol that I am part of that “royal Priesthood” mentioned in Exodus 19:6 and 1Peter 2:9. Jesus, the living Word of the God of the Kingdom, is the star, the source of light and life to which I must look. Of course, I cannot put my trust in princes, presidents, or prelates. All too often, they are guided by another “star.”

I am convinced of this: if we truly devote ourselves to the principles of the Kingdom of God, we can overcome anything. By way of the Spirit (the very Mind and Life of God Himself), we will climb to unimagined heights. The seas will part before us and we will become the very People alluded to in my poem “We Only Dread Standing Still”

Brighter and brighter
Grows the Light of our understanding
Deeper and deeper
Reach the roots of our will

Into the fertile ground of Love.
Wider and wider
Spread our branches, laden
With the fruits of the Spirit
Over the fields where the hungry go a-gleaning.

The leaves of the trees of the LORD
Will heal the parched with their shade
Even the scorched peoples---
Who wilted in the dry winds of Sin---
Will no longer be confounded,
Will no longer be confused.

“Here are the People of the LORD!”
They will sing.
“Here are the People of our God!”
They will shout.
“Hosanna! Hosanna! The Messiah
---and His Anointed Ones---
Have come to us at last!
Hosanna! Hosanna! Blessed are they who come
In the name of the LORD!”

The Kingdom and its King are coming. It is as sure as the rising of tomorrow’s sun, because the God who lives to do us good has determined it.

What else can I say to these things? Only this: immerse your mind in “Kingdom-think.” Give yourselves over to the Love, the Mind, of God. He is for us, who can be against us?

What do we live for? Why, to be the People of the Kingdom, of course! What else?

Peace to you all,

W. Arthur Herring, Jr.

Everything Is Waiting For You

Everything Is Waiting For You

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witnesses to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is signing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

~David Whyte~

Letters From the Field: Lenten Letter No.6

Letters From the Field
Monday, March 17, 2008: Lenten Letter No.6

Everything Is Waiting For You

So, now we approach the end of the period called Lent.

I have a question for you: Does “Lent” ever really end? In one sense, I hope not.

For the past six weeks, I have been trying to let go of the fear of revealing my inner self. At first, all I could think of as my “inner self” was that “old man” that Paul referred to in Ephesians 4:22. That is, that sinful nature that all of us have to battle.

However, I began to recall that God has begun to build a new nature in me. Instead of dwelling on guilt, sin, and death, I am reminding myself that I have been invited to partake of “the divine nature” (2Pet. 1:4). Now if this actually means what it says, there is nothing short of a complete transformation underway. God is actually in the process of making me into a literal Child of His! My distinct, unique personality is being changed and made pure for all eternity. I am being changed from flesh to spirit, from human to divine (Philippians 3:21 and 1Jn. 3:2)!

What bold claims! What an amazing promise!

With the promises, however, comes a great and shocking price: the transforming Work of God must, will, claim my life.

When I was a kid, the country singer Loretta Lynn sang a song: “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.
Lord, I want to go to heaven, but I don’t wanna die!”

How true!

It has been written that Death is the “last enemy” (1Cor. 15:26). It goes without saying that most humans fear death more than anything else. Still, a person of true faith must face that enemy and pay that price---figuratively and literally. The supreme reward must cost the supreme sacrifice.

Abraham Lincoln said that the best way to conquer an enemy is to make him your friend. Seems a shocking if not bizarre notion doesn’t it, this business of making death a “friend” in order to overcome it. Somewhere in one of our hymnals (I haven’t the time to locate it at this writing.), this very idea is touchingly stated. It takes faith to accept the idea that death, instead of cutting us off from life, actually makes certain that we will receive it. The grave may put an end to pleasurable activity, but it also put an end to sin. Those who “die in the faith” have their character locked in. “Precious in the sight of God is the death of His saints.” (Ps. 116: 15). We have to trust the Creator to raise us up.

How can I trust Him? When I look back on my life and count the many promises God has made and kept, I have all the evidence I need to prove He won’t leave me in the darkness of death and oblivion. I can go forward, paying the cost. I can be sure I will receive the promise. This is not blind faith; this is walking forward with my light-filled eyes wide open. “I know that my Redeemer liveth!”

Throughout history, we know of people who have died for what they believed in. Let me borrow a few words from “America the Beautiful”:

O beautiful for heroes proved/in liberating strife
Who more than self their country loved/and mercy
More than life…

Now if these brave souls died for countries that are fading, (The Kingdom we seek will replace all others and is eternal) can we not also “die daily” in hope, trusting our sacrifice is not in vain? Certainly, the above quote is an apt description of those who have devoted themselves to the Way that the Gospel promotes!

Throughout the teaching of Jesus, the concept of sacrifice---the giving up of comforts---is a recurring theme. As grievous as this may seem at first, the act of sacrifice should be seen as an exercise of great power: we have and are using an earth-shaking confidence; we know we will win! Each time we practice our faith we tell the world, and all “principalities and powers”, “We are sure we cannot be disappointed. WE TRUST IN THE PRINCIPLES WE PRACTICE. Therefore, we will not be stopped; your doubts and threats are useless.”

Each act of faith is a bold paying of the price. Each act of faith moves us closer to our goal. The more we let go of things which we thought would give us comfort, and cast off from familiar shores, the closer we come to the Light. The farther we go out to sea, the greater the warmth of the sun grows…

Once, when I was struggling with doubts about my self-worth, these words came to me:

Virtue and Victory comes to those who
Confess and conquer their weakness and fear.

Those who “seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness” have heard the call and accepted the Invitation. Drawing closer to Jesus, we learn more and more about what God and his love are all about there is less and less room for irrational fear in our lives.

I am glad I accepted the challenge of facing my fear. I have certainly come to a greater understanding and acceptance of the assertion “With God, all things are possible.”

Everything is waiting for you. (Romans 8:19.)

Peace to you all,
W. Arthur Herring, Jr.

P. S. I am sending a poem called “Everything Is Waiting For You”, by David Whyte. I think you’ll find it inspiring. Selah (Pause and think on this.)

Letters From the Field: A Useful Fear?

Letters From the Field
Monday, March 3, 2008: Lenten Letter No. 4

A Useful Fear? Part Two

I ended my previous letter with a promise to revisit a scripture used in an earlier message. That scripture is 1John 4: 18: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear…but he who fears has not been made perfect in love.”

On the surface, it looks as if we are being held to an impossible, unreasonable standard. “No fear” is both. We are material, mortal. Because of that, there are many things which threaten our continued existence. Hence, it is reasonable, necessary, and natural to have some fear.

Now, I don’t want to be accused of trying to rewrite the Bible, but experience tells me that it is always wise to be ready and able to put things in other, perhaps clearer words. For most people, believer or no, traditional biblical language can be confusing. Since the Bible makes some pretty impressive claims, it has tended to get the attention of a great many people. Some of those people tend to believe those claims, at least in essence. I am one of those persons and, probably, if you find my Letters interesting, you are too. We can agree that any level of a deeper understanding of the ideas contained in that “old book,” as Thoreau referred to the Bible, is important as well as useful. So it is in that spirit that I offer the following thoughts.

If we take another look at 1John 4:18 and insert the idea that an excess of fear is irrational and not of God, we could read the passage this way: “There is no reason to be overwhelmed by fear if we are given over to love, that is, if we are mutually devoted to each others’ care. One is tormented by the prospect of dreadful things, but that state of mind does not rule those who are totally confident that they can receive and give love.”

Consider this. When you love someone (and you are convinced that they love you), the idea that they will hurt of torment you doesn’t even cross your mind. When you feel an overarching sense of dread, you also feel threatened. You are not so sure everyone has your best interest in mind. Simply put, John is saying---as did Moses (Lev.19: 18, Deut. 6:15), Paul (1Cor. 13), and Jesus himself (Mark 12: 30-31)---that love, the utter devotion to each others’ care and well-being, is the solution to all our fears and worries.

And why should humans not extend that same love to God their Creator, the One who makes all opportunity for life and love possible? Is it really too much of a stretch to translate the phrase “fear the LORD” as “hate the very idea of hurting or upsetting God”? Just as we would have compassion on our neighbors and ourselves, can we not have compassion for God? Think how you would feel if someone betrayed your loving care. Think how you would feel if you realized you had just broken someone’s heart. Extend those tender mercies to God! To do so makes the circle complete! To do so is to set the stage for such a downpour of love as to wash away a universe of hurt and pain. In fact, according to John, that is exactly what God has in mind (Rev. 21: 1-5, esp. verse 5)!

So let us pursue this “fear of the LORD,” our “compassion for God,” the wise counsel to avoid our ruin. Let us give up the fear that causes torment.

Peace to you all,

W. Arthur Herring, Jr.

Letters From the Field

February 25, 2008:

Lenten Letter No. 3

A Useful Fear? Part One

When I took on the challenge of writing these “Lenten Letters,” I thought I should more completely follow in the tradition of Lenten observance by committing myself to giving up something. I said I would “try a bit of transparency for a change.” Instead of keeping my darker side cloaked, I would reveal it…in hope that something useful might be offered to my readers. Often, revealing bad experiences and examining bad habits can yield good things.

I suppose it should be clear by now that I find fear to be a major stumbling block. It has been my persistent “demon,” using every available opportunity to distract and discourage me. Yet demons are not all-powerful. God, on the other hand, is all-powerful. Fortunately for us, our Father isn’t stingy with His power. Freely He offers it to us to use in our constant struggle against evil and error ( 2 Corinthians 10: 5, The Message).

Still, despite its destructive possibility, fear is actually not an evil thing of and by itself. Used properly, it can actually be one of the “God-tools” mentioned above.

“Now whoa!” you might say, “Didn’t you just describe fear as a ‘demon’? How can a demon be a God-given tool?” Well, before I go further, let me take a little time to clarify.

Some time ago, when I was struggling with doubts and worries, a thought occurred to me: “Let fear be a counselor, not a king.” In other, less poetic words, let a rational fear help your decision-making, but don’t allow it to take over.


Now, back to the “demon” analogy.

Recall that demons were once useful, helpful, and happy entities. They became evil after they began to seek more dominance than God had granted to them (Jude 1: 6). Likewise, fear (which was given to us by our Creator---for our own protection) can become problematic if it is not managed properly, if it is allowed to get out of control.

No doubt many of us have seen the bumper stickers that read “No Fear.” On the surface, that sounds like a desirable state to be in. However, we should stop and think: if we had absolutely no fear at all, we’d probably find ourselves doing some pretty stupid, if not indeed deadly, things. Because we are mortal, that is, able to die, it makes sense to be careful about what we do. God expects us to be careful with the bodies we were given (1Cor. 3:16-17). Since He is making us into something indescribably great (1Cor. 15:49), it is all the more important that we not take foolish, thoughtless risks ( Luke 4: 9-12).

This, I think, is one reason why we are told “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.” I don’t think this scripture is telling us that God wants us to be being afraid of Him. Rather, I think the psalmist and the proverb-maker is trying to say that He gives us a rational sense of fear. In other words, we are to have a sensible apprehension. This mindset makes us more receptive to wisdom. Thus it is a gift of God, an important tool in our effort to “grow in grace and knowledge.”

I have always been the sort of person who just can’t know enough. I have always loved to learn. The very process of asking questions and going after the answers excites me .

I suppose that is another reason I am dwelling on this subject of fear. The very process of asking questions and going after the answers excites me .

I suppose that is another reason I am dwelling on this subject of fear. Yes, it has caused me a lot of trouble over the years. Still, by focusing on that subject, I find myself learning more about how to deal with it.

Fear is a natural part of our lives that can help or harm us. As I’ve tried to point out, I believe there is a Godly sort of fear, a fear that can actually be useful. In my next Letter, I want to take a second look at a scripture I used in an earlier piece. I hope I can share with you some of the joy I am finding as I am learning that I need not be either enslaved to or afraid of fear.

Peace to you all,

W. Arthur Herring, Jr.

All Children Need a Laptop

I was honored to be invited to la fiesta del cumpleanos del abuelo - grandpa's birthday party - with the extended family next door. Beautiful people who fled the tragedy we Americans helped to create in El Salvador more than a decade ago. The grandparents are hardworking proud landowners who have seen too many loved ones disappear and find them floating days later in the river. The next generation are hardworking proud homeowners who seek to make a new life for their children here while holding fast to the values and visions of the old.

I see a prototype of Calvary in this passing on of values and vision. We have elders who remember the glory of this church in days gone by. And we have young ones who dream new dreams of a day yet to be. When we celebrate and remember who we are, we rejoice mostly in Whose we are -- and that we belong.

One of the blessings of this large Salvadoran family is the way they care for one another. The many adult sisters touch each other so lovingly, rubbing a pregnant tummy, stroking black silken hair, leaning on each other as they laugh and talk. They outdo one another in showing hospitality, bringing sopa and tortillas, limons, pollo - especially honoring mama y papa.

What really impressed me was the way they love their children - all their children. It was unclear to me which happy ninos belonged to which parents. They obviously all belonged to them all. Little ones climbed on any lap, leaned against any breast, received food from any hand.

Some say it takes a village to raise a child. Jesus said, "Let the little ones come to me, for to such belongs the realm of God!" We say, let the church be the body of Christ. (Have you read Nicole's mothering thanks in the March newsletter?)

My Starbucks cup says it this way (The Way I See It #273):

All children need a laptop.
Not a computer, but a human laptop.
Mom, dads, grannies and grandpas, aunts, uncles --
someone to hold them, read to them, teach them.
Loved ones who will embrace them
and pass on the experience, rituals and
knowledge of a hundred previous generations.
Loved ones who will pass to the next generation
their expectations of them,
their hopes, and
their dreams.

~ General Colin L. Powell
Founder of America's Promise -

The Alliance for Youth

First time I've ever felt left out at the Lord's table

Flo Johnston, Correspondent

Once I almost got thrown out of a storefront church because I couldn't produce a business card and nobody could vouch for me. Describing the details of this event makes a pretty good yarn, one I usually tell when I'm invited to speak to a group about the religion beat in Durham.

Last Sunday, I had an experience that was yet another first in my almost 25 years as a religion writer in the Bull City.

Along with my friend and neighbor Elizabeth Severance, a retired Presbyterian hospital chaplain, I visited a church for the first time. Visiting is something I do often and, since both of us are Presbyterians and she's a preacher, Elizabeth is a good one to go church-hopping with.

Our destination was First Reformed Presbyterian, a relative newcomer to Trinity Park. These Presbyterians bought the building previously occupied by St. Barbara Greek Orthodox at 1316 Watts St. The congregation is about eight years old and had previously met in a hotel in Research Triangle Park.

The pastor, the Rev. Ian Wise, told me in a phone interview a couple of weeks ago that the church holds to old traditions. The most conspicuous, he said, is singing the Psalms a capella, a practice that dates back to Scotland. He said the church has a strong focus on Scripture and the importance of preaching. His sermons, he said, are usually about 40 minutes long. The one last Sunday titled "Calling Us Back," with the text from Galatians 5:7-12, was right on target time-wise.

Wise is a talented speaker and his sermon was a careful explanation of the Scripture in which St. Paul lays a few carefully chosen words on the church at Galatia for having strayed from what he taught them. The praying and preaching were familiar to my Presbyterian ears.

The surprise came during Holy Communion. The table in front looked familiar enough with a loaf of bread and trays of small glasses -- wine in the center glasses and grape juice along the outside rows. The pastor spoke extemporaneously, leaving me wondering if Reformed Presbyterians have no prescribed liturgy for the sacrament. And in a departure from the practice in other Presbyterian churches, he offered no invitation to the table, nor prayers of thanksgiving or confession. He and one elder, Erich Baum, distributed the elements to the congregation.

When the pastor failed to stop at our row with the bread, I thought it could be an oversight, but when he moved up the aisle and did not offer us the cup, suddenly I knew: We had been excluded. At that moment I knew what it felt like to be ostracized, left out. I also felt indignant.

We sang another Psalm, got a blessing from the pastor who then moved into making announcements in which he welcomed visitors and invited all to a fellowship meal at noon. When he took a breath and paused, Elizabeth stood up and said, "Am I to understand that we as baptized people in good standing in the church are not allowed to partake of Holy Communion at the table of our Lord Jesus Christ? This is against the teachings of Jesus. I am offended."
That covered it all, but I added that his invitation to share the fellowship meal hit me as a feeble attempt to gloss over our having just been turned away from the Lord's table.

The pastor told us he would talk with us later.

And he did. Standing in the aisle, he explained that to take communion in this church, one must be deemed "worthy" beforehand, and that this happens when an elder (an elected man in the congregation) talks with you about your Christian experience or hears your testimony.

I was vaguely familiar with this idea since I recalled from church history that Presbyterians had used communion tokens during a bygone era. The history museum at the Presbyterian conference center in Montreat has a large collection of tokens that were given to those who were deemed worthy, to be turned in when the individual stepped up to partake of the body and blood of Christ.

One reason Sunday's experience hit me so hard is that Presbyterian pastors from the past and my present pastor at First Presbyterian, Joe Harvard, have always given an invitation to the communion table. Harvard always says, "This is not a Presbyterian table, but the Lord's table."

In recent years, I have begun to understand that Holy Communion is above all a joyful feast and that I don't have to feel "holy" to take part. In fact, I have come to appreciate the idea (learned from Gayle Felton, co-pastor at Calvary United Methodist and former Duke Divinity School professor) that this part of worship is not so much what I do or what I feel, but what God does. Instead of coming to the table because I feel worthy, I need to come because I feel unworthy.

Over the years, I have shared this meal in mainline and nondenominational churches across this city and have been blessed by their welcome. Most of all, I have learned how to appreciate the sometimes minor, sometimes major differences in the way churches conduct this sacrament.

I am thankful churches have freedom to worship as they choose. But I do have a suggestion for Reformed Presbyterians. Why not explain the policy as part of the communion liturgy, or at least put a note in the bulletin saying that pre-authorization is necessary? I have no problem with churches that promote theological ideas I do not embrace; I do have a problem with exclusion from what even Reformed Presbyterians call "the Lord's table."

Elizabeth, a Duke Divinity School graduate who has baptized and served communion to broken and dying people in hospitals, does not agree that an explanation could help set this church's position right. She contends that no Christian church has the right to exclude anyone from the communion table, that the Bible and the teachings of Jesus make this perfectly clear.

For those who want to experience this church, worship is held on Sundays at 10:30 a.m. and 1:30 p.m. with a fellowship lunch at noon.

fjohnston3@nc.rr.com

© Copyright March 1, 2008, The News & Observer Publishing Company
A subsidiary of The McClatchy Company


Note: Flo and Elizabeth are occasionally visitors to Calvary. And Elizabeth spent many months as our interim Organist and Choir Director.

How about you....? Ever felt excluded? Kept away from God's Welcome Table? Do tell!
This article (including its allusion to our guru Gayle!) was a stimulus for good theology and sharing at Calvary Young Adults after the Communion and Healing Service today. Such wisdom, born of heartbreak....

Praying When You Don't Know the Words

"Teach us to pray," the disciples implored.
And Brother Jesus taught them about prayer as relationship:
Our Father, he said, Abba Daddy -- not Awesome Deity on High.
Our Father... meaning mine and yours together, we who are family.

Are you learning to relate to God this way?

Our own Dawn Dreyer is immersed in Quakerism this sabbath year near Philadelphia. "It makes me love Calvary all the more," she writes. She sent us a poem from a course she presented called "Exploring Prayer." Maybe you can relate....


Before I Knew How to Pray
For Calvary United Methodist Church, Durham NC

God whispers to me
“I am here.”
I cannot hear God
over my own screaming.
But I know God is speaking to me
by the way I cry in church.
No dainty tears
or pretty, glistening eyes.
But shaky, snotty sobs.
How did my church
know to leave me alone
with God?
I could feel their love,
tangible as rain,
but they let me alone,
trembling in the pew.
Did they know that my tears were
living water,
embodied hope,
all I knew of Him?

~ Dawn Dreyer
Artist in Residence
Pendle Hill Retreat Center

www.pendlehill.org

Letters From the Field: Lenten Letter No.2

Letters From the Field

Monday, February 18, 2008: Lenten Letter No.2

Love, Most Terrifying

“There is no fear in love;…perfect love casts out fear…fear involves torment…those who fear have not been made perfect in love…”
I John 4:18.

Wow! What a statement; what a standard! And yet, if I believe that this is the “Word of God, for the People of God,” I must accept -- and live by -- this amazing claim.

At first glance, I am inclined to sympathize with those people who walked away from Jesus when he declared, “my flesh is real food; my blood is real drink” (John 6:55, NIV). They were shocked and dismayed. “This is a hard teaching; who can accept it?” (Verses 60 and 66).

Yes, who indeed!

I don’t know how many people I have come across during my “short stay on this small planet” who complain that the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth are too difficult, too impractical. “Who in the world could possibly live up to so high a standard? Why, don’t you know that if you tried to live the way this man taught, you’d soon fall prey to every trickster you’d come across? You’d be gobbled up like a lamb in a lions’ den!”

Still, these are the things the “Man” from Galilee requires.

I suppose I could burden my readers with detailed descriptions and meanings of the word “perfect.” I will spare you, because you get what Jesus and his closest human associates were getting at: If this way of life is to make any useful impact in your life---and the lives of others---the followers of the Christ must totally commit themselves to the essence of his teaching; they must be totally overwhelmed and refashioned by love. As appealing as love sounds, such utter devotion is, to say the least, a terrifying prospect for most of us.

There is a funny thing about human nature. We seem to love ruts. Even when we sense our old routines are getting us nowhere, we are more comfortable staying put. A friend of mine once put it this way: instead of climbing out of our ruts, we upholster them to make them more comfortable! “What, leave my beautifully-decorated trench and climb up into a new way? You must be joking!”

Of course, a sea-change requires faith. That is something, however, that the “Master of the Sea” is more than willing to offer…BUT…ya gotta let go of your fear and take a big bite of that “flesh” and take a big gulp of that “blood.”

Since this is Lent, most people are thinking of not eating or drinking something.
Yet here is an invitation to do just the opposite. Gorge yourselves on love which is the active, outgoing concern for your neighbors as well as yourself. Drink to the full of the spirit of living sacrifice.

Oh yes, these forms of sustenance may seem a bit unusual, even frightening, but, as I’m finding out, this unusual food is most refreshing.

In my last letter, I hinted at trying a bit more transparency on for size. This project I’ve started forces me to give up being afraid and making a real attempt to be of service by sharing my thoughts and experiences. I know I’ve always wanted to try my hand at this sort of thing. Stepping out into the real world, away from the comforts and certainty of my parents’ care, put me full force into the stormy seas of adult life. For a long time, the cares of this world caused me to back away from boldness. It wasn’t always that way, though.

When I was a child of about six or seven, my father’s mother asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. Without a moment’s hesitation, I declared, “When I get grown, I’m gonna have me a television show! And it’s gonna be called ‘Tell It Like It Is!’” Oh, to have that confidence again!

An honest peeling away of all facades will show a man who is often crippled by fears, worries and doubts. Yet my true Master has called me to take hold of a new confidence. No, I haven’t been offered a spot on television (at least, not yet). I have rather been offered an opportunity to use some of the spiritual gifts I have been given. And you know, what? This business of casting out my fear doesn’t taste as bad as I…uh…feared!

And, much to my surprise, that “ love most terrifying” is becoming slightly more comfortable. I can see more and more that I can trust in the One who inspired the Psalmist to write, “Oh taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the one who trusts in Him!” (Psalm 34:8)

Peace to you all,

W. Arthur Herring, Jr.

Letters From the Field: Lenten Letter No. 1

One of my spiritual gifts is mining God's fields for spiritual gifts in others.

Here you will find the first in a series of Lenten Letters

from a gifted writer at Calvary UMC~ Arthur Herring!

I hope you will check here weekly for updates on

"Letters From the Field."

Encourage him to let his light shine

by sharing your comments.

To God be the glory!

Shalom.

Pastor Laurie <><


Letters From the Field
Monday, February 11, 2008: Lenten Letter No.1

Essay writing can be considered a dangerous sport. To tell the world precisely what you think is risky. Still, I am compelled to take my chances. I want to share my thoughts, experiences, and observations. Why? The reason is quite simple: I believe it is my God-given responsibility to do so.

Communication is an important part of all our lives. Open, honest discussion is also part of our calling. Our Creator expects us to help one another by sharing what we have come to know. To borrow and slightly alter a quote from writer Georges Sand, “We don’t communicate because we want to; we communicate because we must.”

Some of us, however, feel an extraordinary urge to do so. I am one of those people. For most of my life, I have believed, as I have often been told, God has given me a gift in this regard.

Yet, for a long, wasteful while, I was afraid to speak openly. I used to fell prey to every “reason” and excuse in the book. Finally, after years of divorcing my purest hopes from reality ( a truly dangerous habit for a person of faith), I have come to see the wisdom of one of my own sayings : There are no grater cowards than those who do not live by their sincerest convictions. If we are convicted, we must follow up with commitment.

Most of you are no doubt familiar with the account of Moses returning from Sinai wearing some of the radiance of God that had “rubbed off” on him. The terrified Israelites didn’t quite know what to make of that, so Moses wore a veil so as to hide that glory and calm their fears. Now fast forward a few thousand years.

Followers of Jesus, however, are told by the Master Himself to uncover their light---their bit of God’s glory. This glory was not rubbed off. It was applied to our minds deliberately. It was the Giver’s intention that our gifts be just as deliberately displayed.

Yet, Jesus has to remind His followers of this, precisely because the tendency is for us to hide from the light---even though we know the light will make us glorious---even while we secretly long to be glorious.

Why is this?

Light exposes as thoroughly as it glorifies. When you openly present yourself to others, you also expose your faults and weaknesses. Oh yes, it’s wonderful to have people praise you when you get it right, but nobody loves having their weaknesses laid bare. Still God calls us to the light even as He calls us to let our light shine. He knows that even as our faults are made plain, His strength will be made perfect in that same state of imperfection.

I admit, that is not a part of my calling that I relish. Like the Israelites of old, I too, have been more comfortable having the radiance shed upon me covered with a veil. The problem is that a veil doesn’t go with my new outfit!

You see, awhile back, God issued me a challenge. “Try wearing something a little more transparent,” He said. “Don’t worry about your ashy legs showing. I have some Oil that will take care of that! But you won’t get it ‘til you put on the garments I have made just for you!”

Those garments are the clothes of a writer. The Oil is the inspiration of the Spirit, given to get the gears of my mind running more smoothly. The challenge came through Laurie. She urged me to take a bold step and start doing the work I had been dreaming of.

So here it is, the response to her challenge, the first of six essays in a series I’ll call Letters From the Field. These six will be called “The Lenten Letters.”

It is my hope and prayer that these writings will entertain, enlighten, and inspire you. If they do, please let me know. Then I’ll be inspired to do more to help you let your light shine.

Peace to you all,
W. Arthur Herring, Jr.

Listening for the Heartbeat of God

LISTENING FOR THE HEARTBEAT OF GOD:
Earth Day as Native American Awareness Sunday

Pa-toom …
Pa-toom …
Pa-toom …
Pa-toom …
Shhhhh….

Let all the world in every corner sing: My God and King!
From Panama to Wisconsin, down east and out west,
Montagnards and Ticos, Scots and Creeks and Jews together
sing to the one drumbeat of life.
Pa-toom … Pa-toom …

Sing them over again to me, wonderful words of life.
Sacred space cleared and fire rekindled,
the holy man marks each with gar teeth.
Blood blessed and willow wrapped,
they dance to the drums,
stepping round and round,
one throbbing heartbeat.

Each little flower that opens, each little bird that sings,
God made their glowing colors, and made their tiny wings.
Pa-toom … Pa-toom …
(And did someone say quack?)
Remember, Judi, you’re at Calvary.
Lavish lilies flaunt their fame
for God of the rainbow
God of the cross
God of the trumpet blast, or else
How could the creature say Thanks!

Wisdom and wonder await our awareness
in fungus, flower and fruit, and
in the wilderness
-- where people are not
and God ever is.

Gardening grows us
closer to Creator
and to all creatures great and small,
to the Teller of Tales about soils and seeds,
binding us back to the truth of our dust,
calling us to justice for farmers
(thank God!)
who feed us.
Pa-toom …
Pa-toom …

Grain of the earth is gathered and ground,
leavened and shaped,
transformed by fire.
He blessed. Pa-toom....
We broke. Pa-toom....
Together we taste the goodness of God.
Fruit of the vine,
drunk on pure water,
dances in sunshine till gathered
and crushed.
We give thanks and drink deeply
this cup of new hope.
And the heartbeat of God
perpetually pours forth.
Pa-toom …
Pa-toom …
Pa-toom …
Shhhhhhhhhhhhh….

…Heleluyan!

Good Enuf

• What is a topic you would like to explore with the Holy?
• What is challenging, distracting, boring you now?
• What gives hope, courage, motivation now?
• What would help?
• What can you do to move on?
  
  Such were the leads for a journaling exercise. We had been coached at using repetition as a means of driving deeper, or shading meanings, or pestering, or whatever else repeated phrases do to the human (and divine?) psyche.
  
  In contemplation I became aware of difuseness, perfectionism, and other self-judging voices. What do I long to hear? A maternal message something like this....
  
  Good enuf is good enuf.
  Just make your bed and go.
  Good enuf is good enuf ~
  Say "no" when your heart means "no."
  
  Good enuf is good enuf
  if it steps you toward your goal.
  Good enuf is good enuf
  as you're climbing out of a hole.
  
  Good enuf is good enuf,
  bumping to-do's into "already done."
  So good enuf is good enuf,
  child. Go on and have some fun!
  
  ... and so I did. LHC <><
  

Faithful Feasting

The holidays are in full swing, which means one thing. Lots of food.
Big turkey dinners at Thanksgiving, another big family meal at
Christmas, holiday parties, candy canes, tins with cookies or popcorn,
eggnog, gingerbread, etc. Most activities at church have some kind of
food or refreshment, and this is doubly so in the holiday season.

For those that have battled weight problems most of their life, this
season presents tough decisions. A potluck in the middle of summer is
bad enough, with all of the casseroles and yummy desserts. In the
holiday season, there are always multiple holiday parties and
gatherings, all with more food than necessary. Co-workers have a tin
of caramel or chocolate popcorn or a pile of candy canes. Holiday
treats are hard to avoid daily.

Someone who has battled a weight problem feels a great deal of tension
between the social settings of the holiday season and the desire to
abstain from the greatest temptation in their life. At Calvary, there
are refreshments at most meetings, most recently the Christmas
cantata. Potlucks are once a month, and most other Sundays groups go
out to lunch. It is very difficult to socialize at any church,
including Calvary, without being at functions with a large meal, a
cake, or a large amount of refreshments.

Most of you may not be aware that I weighed 250 pounds in 2001. I
have kept 50 pounds off for 5 years. Still, eating is a struggle for
me on a daily basis. My mother has developed a very mild case of Type
II diabetes, and my father had a heart attack at the age of 55. My
own health concerns are in mind daily because of my family health
history. I have chosen to not attend events at Calvary because of the
inability to control how much I eat at times, and the guilt that can
accompany poor choices. A balance between the social and the food
that accompanies it is difficult to balance.

I know of others at Calvary that struggle with this issue. At this
time of year, I would ask that we prayerfully consider not only those
not able to have the prolific food offerings available to them that we
do, but also to be sensitive to those who struggle with eating more
than necessary on a daily basis.

Peace,

Jeff

How Wonderful, O Lord

One of God's great gifts to Calvary has been the prayerful outpourings of singer/songwriter Toddie Stewart. Her daily discipline has been to sit at the piano and pray the psalms as the Spirit gives utterance. Many of these songs have been taught to the congregation so we share in the heartsongs of hope!

Recently Toddie wrote:
This was from my morning session today - so it's pretty fresh. I have been using Ray MacGinnis' book "Writing the Sacred" in my morning sacred time and have been pleased with what comes from it. I use Ray's book as a conscious exercise to help me write my thoughts about and to God - the source of all our creativity. Writing the exercise down on paper honors the gift, the Giver and also enriches the lives of the gifted ones.
God bless you. Shalom.


How Wonderful, O Lord
Toddie Stewart 28Nov2006

How wonderful, O Lord, You have been to me.
You have cradled me and loved me as Your child.
You washed and fed and clothed me,
You prompted me; Your voice was clear,
Healed my heart to open up to You.

How wonderful, O Lord, You have been to me.
You have guided me and pardoned me with Your grace.
You spoke my name; Your call was sure,
You showed the way for me to go,
Trained my feet to follow after You.

How wonderful, O Lord, you have been to me.
You quickened my steps to run after You,
You lifted my eyes to behold you,
You caused my knees to bow before you,
Taught my heart to sing your song.
How wonderful, O Lord, you have been to me.

South African Parliament Permits Gay Marriage

The esteemed and much loved United Methodist Pastor and Civil Rights Leader - Rev. Gil Caldwell - reflects here on the decision of the South African Parliament to Permit Gay Marriage. As always, his prayerful depth of wisdom unites Spirit and society in a clarifying light. God bless this man.




THE DECISION OF THE SOUTH AFRICAN PARLIAMENT

TO PERMIT GAY MARRIAGE

It is past time for all of us to engage in some soul searching and some re-visiting of our attitudes toward same gender loving persons and the desire of many of them to have equal access to marriage or unions. I suggest the following self-questioning.

1. From whence comes the negative emotions often conjured up by the prospect of same gender love and marriage? How do those negative emotions differ from the negative emotions that many have/had vis-a-vis interracial marriage?

2. If we claim the Biblical description of "abomination" for same gender sexual intimacy, do we feel the same about shellfish and their description as an abomination? The comedian
Jon Stewart in an effort to point out the inconsistency of our use of Scripture, had a skit where someone was holding a sign that said; "God hates homosexuals and shellfish." Does he make a point worth considering?

3. Growing up in North Carolina I remember someone pointing out the irrationality of anti-black prejudice by quoting this ditty:

I do not like you, Mr. Fell,
the reason why I cannot tell.
But, this I know and know real well:
I do not like you, Mr. Fell.

There is something irrational about this feeble justification of dislike, prejudice, even hate.

4. Negative stereotyping of persons has a way of becoming negative profiling. We think of "them" in the most negative of terms, because "some of them" have done things that we disagree with. This has a way of trickling across from race to sexual orientation to.... I often wonder if persons understand that I as an African American who has been around for a long time have had to work at not assuming that ALL white folk are like the white folk who have done and who do things that I dislike. Making universal decisions about any group of persons because of the actions of a few is prejudice. I continue to be amazed that persons who have known negative sterotyping because of their race or their gender, see no contradiction in their negative stereotyping of LGBT persons.

5. Finally, we hear persons say, "I hate the sin but not the sinner." The conviction that same gender love is sin, flies in the face of those of us who say that "God is love" and the love we have for each other flows from God. Those who resist same gender persons from making commitments to each other through marriage seem to believe that the foundation stone of marriage is the marriage of a female and a male and no more. What happened to love, commitment, companionship, patience, common struggle, living through the valleys and enjoying the mountaintop experiences of marriage? Denying same gender loving persons the right to experience the struggles and joys that occur in marriage following a public commitment, makes of those who support this denial, accomplices to the minimization of democracy.

The South African Parliament has spoken! How I wish that the American - African American community that has some primary experiential appreciation of civil rights, might have been in the forefront on this issue in the USA. Our silence and/or our complicity with those who have used same gender marriage as a political wedge issue, has provided some retrospective tarnish to the significance of the Civil Rights Movement. We who struggled to gain our civil rights through the courts, legislation and executive order have not understood that the same electorate in Michigan that voted against Affirmative Action is no different from the electorate that excludes persons from marriage because they do not meet their "definition" of marriage.

Sometimes as we who are African American sing:

We have come
over a way that with tears has been watered.
We have come
treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered...

I wonder if we understand the tears our insensitivty is causing others? I wonder if we understand that our "hating the sin of homosexuality" has given brutal people their justification for bloodying those who are same-gender loving?

Thank God that in South Africa, elected leaders who knew the awfulness of racist apartheid would not legally continue the apartheid of persons because of their sexual orientation!

Gil Caldwell

I promise to wake up with God on my mind

The journey became almost unbearable recently for one of our sisters.
But beyond the darkest night came a fresh resolve to seek God,
regardless of her emotional state.

Celebrate this turn toward hope in Kathy Winn's psalm of passionate resolve.



I PROMISE TO WAKE UP WITH GOD ON MY MIND

I promise to wake up with God on my mind
Looking for all of the good things to find.
My Friends and my loved ones are there by my side
And in their great love I will always abide.

I promise to focus on positive thoughts,
Staying away from the should’s, can’ts and ought’s.
I will turn to my good parts and find inner peace,
All of the negatives quickly release.

I will enjoy the season that’s here.
God has not given the spirit of fear.
I will go boldly to Gods loving throne
And there I’ll find comfort, I’m never alone.

I’m a new creature, made new every day.
All through the day I’ll remember to pray
If God be for me, as the Bible states,
I will rejoice as my fear abates.

I will sing of God's mercies and speak of God's love.
I will turn my face upward always looking above.
The God of my mothers, the God of my heart
Will ever be with me, no never depart.


Kathy Winn
October 21, 22, 2006

Consider the Whale

Repetition, the poet Ray McGinnis taught us,
brings deeper layers to life, or creates rhythm,
it rests the mind, or turns the words
like facets of a diamond held to the light.

Sacred Writing Night at Calvary produced some rich spiritual insights to share.

Here is Amilda Horne's venture into Biblical folklore and contemporary self care.
A word of God for us, the people of God...?


CONSIDER THE WHALE

Consider the whale.
Jonah was swallowed into a forced retreat.

Consider the whale.
Job was asked whether one would agree to be his slave.

Consider the whale,
A free strong intelligent creature.

Consider the whale,
No cave needed for protection. She carries her own.

Consider the whale,
No tolerance. No risk of abuse.

Consider the whale,
Cavorting in the sea and sunlight.

Consider the whale,
A great creature, singing tales and truths, composed.

Consider the whale,
Traveling with stability through all currents.

Consider the whale,
What does she fear?

Consider the whale,
Be still my soul.

Consider the whale,
The tide is turning.

~ Amilda K. Horne

The Sea Shall Part Before You

Arthur Herring contributes this poem from our night of spiritual improv with the Canadian poet/workshop leader Ray McGinnis. Our challenge was to think of an issue we'd like to talk with God about, then use poetic tools such as repetition to find nuances or layers of meaning in our Sacred Writing.

Enjoy Arthur's exploration of Moses standing at the side of the Red Sea with his people, desperately wondering "my God, what now?"

THE SEA SHALL PART BEFORE YOU

The Great God, He gave you your strengths.
Why stand here, crying?

Is not this God your Maker?
Why stand here, crying?

Is there anything...that can withstand Him?
Why stand here, crying?

If you know, if you believe these things,
Why stand here, crying?

GO FORWARD!


"Lord, keep Your arm around my shoulder
and Your hand
over my mouth."

Blessing in the Bullhorns

I missed the NC Gay Pride Festival this year. That was unusual for me since
I consider that to be one of our most significant evangelism events. For years
we have been handing out water bottles wrapped in rainbows and an invitation to
worship with us at Calvary. Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors. Or so the
denominational slogan goes. We are the people of The United Methodist Church.
After the parade recedes from the hot pavement, we retreat to our display table
where we enjoy conversation with passers-by. It's a lovely way to stay in touch
with the world, to discover again the Message so desperately desired by those
outside the church walls.

It was regrettable that I missed all the frivolity here in the Bull City . But worse, it was the first time I recall antagonists showing up with Bibles and bullhorns to bully our faithful outreachers. The pastoral hormones run rampant within me when I think of my lambs being abused yet again by belligerent Bible-thumpers. Too often have they been traumatized by such misguided zeal. I wince to imagine those blaring words of condemnation. So un-Jesus-like.

But maybe I worried overmuch. The church was still the church when the shepherd was away. Didn't the motherbear-of-a-lesbian take on the taunters and scatter them? Didn't the long-married-grandmother who had found her voice speak the truth in love?
Didn't the spunky 15-year-old recently adopted by two moms stand strong with her
gay-straight alliance friends and lead them in singing "Jesus loves me. This I
know for the Bible tells me so!" And didn't the students silently intersperse
themselves among the placard-bearing barkers lining the road to dilute their
raucous racket?

Non-violence well-lived. Christians at work, helping God to heal the world.

Here Phillip Shoe gives testimony. Wish I had been there to witness it!

Recently, many of our members were approached by a group of Christians opposed to our understandings of God and Grace. Their tactics were varied. Some subtly asked questions, all the while becoming stronger and stronger in their challenges to our theology. Others were not so “polite.” They turned to shouts and bullhorns. “God can save you. God can change you!” Those words still ring in the ear. They still ache in the heart.

Fear. Anxiety. Wounds ripped open. Salt poured in. Blessings adorned. We are a people saved by wounds. Crowned head. Nailed feet. Nailed hands. Pierced side. Blessing in the wounds. And as we learned on that sunny September day, there can even be blessing in the bullhorns.

Many Christians comment that they feel lost, even in the midst of their own people and their own sanctuaries. They are adrift. I have talked to other Christians who speak of the need to share themselves more fully, but not having the safety to do so in their own particular communities of faith. There is a longing to go deeper, to relate in new ways to their brothers and sisters, and to know God more fully. Sadly, in countless congregations, admitting pain and suffering is no longer seen as a mark of Christian service, but as a sign of personal failure. Bring in the bullhorns!

Read the Book of Acts! The early church was often attacked. What were those crazy people doing? They were turning against centuries of tradition and proclaiming a new Word. Eating together? Eating unclean food? Eating with those people? Eating the Body and Blood? Cries of cannibalism were launched at the early church. They were accused of the worst kinds of incestuous sins. They stood out and they were misunderstood. Just what were these people up to?

I believe they were circling in, interlocking their arms and uniting as one. In their unity they found the strength to withstand the challenges from outside. They were holding one another up. Through attack, they were able to see their commonalities. Their shared and common woundedness reminded them of the wounded Lord and of their need to heal and be healed. They ate together, sang together, took the Eucharist together, and lived as though their very lives and salvation depended upon the community they were building. Bring in the bullhorns!

I say let the protestors come. When we are attacked, we might just be doing something right. When the church fails to stand out, the church has become society.
There is something about the way in which we are living that is drawing attention. No, its not that we have gay and straight worshipping together. It is not that that
we have red, yellow, brown, black and white worshipping together. It is not that we are old and young. It is not that we ask hard-hitting questions of our faith. What is threatening is that we have been formed as a community. We have found unity. We are united in Christ. United in Christ, yet we still stand out. We are not perfect and there is always work to be done. But what I have witnessed in the weeks following that great September day has reminded me of the blessing of Calvary UMC.

We are a community that makes being Christian life changing and challenging. It is not easy Grace. It is a Grace freely given, but understood through suffering. We are shoulders to cry on. We are hearts that shed tears. But, through all of this, we are smiles and laughter. We are moments of joy and great peace. And in all, we do this in and through Christ. Bring in the Bullhorns and let them remind us again and again who we are, who we are not, and whose we will always be.

Phillip Shoe, M.Div.

Behold, I AM ALIVE!

The past few days have been strangely troubling for me. Mostly it was matters of my own making. Some of them I probably just flat made up. But suffer I have, silly as it may have been. It's one of those times when I just wanted to be invisible awhile. Maybe there's inside work to be done, the kind that can't happen when we're too well connected with the world.

Pastor Pam diagnosed it as tied down, tied up, tied tight. Strung out by idols that bind and strap one intended for flight. We had just shared together in the service of death and resurrection for our beloved brother Rev. Jack Klein. Rick Edens, co-pastor of United Church of Chapel Hill, wove a fascinating sermon about "the tethers being loosened." He reminded us that the waning of the body is also the loosening of the tethers that bind us to earth. Jack, he said, was one who went about un-tying tethers that limit and cripple people: poverty, disgrace, closets, despair. Now his own tethers have been loosened and he is free! The heavens have been torn open to unleash the holy and receive him home.

So here am I, fit as a fiddle (I pray). Yet I'm bound by my own bitter bindings to goals and expectations and assumptions that God never asked of me. Others did. Think Aslan sacrificed on stone table. Only, see that gorgeous beast strategically strapping himself there. Humiliated, he cannot free himself. Only Grace can untie him.

Pam prescribed postrating myself before God, humbly offering up every idol, yet without dramatic fanfare of all my glorious shortcomings. Simply submit to the holy untying of my knotty web.

It's worth a tangled try.

Today is the 53rd anniversary of my birth into this world. I celebrated it by Coming to the Middle, offering up the Body and Blood of Christ, and participating in the dying to new life. I prayed for Ann and her family grieving and letting go of dear Jack. I remembered my brother-in-law John who buried his precious dad yesterday in West Texas. I thanked God for my husband who brought me breakfast in bed -- a tray laden with waffles and sweet peaches, juice, milk, and coffee, and my crystal bud vase (a treasure bought in Waterford, Ireland where Mom and I visited 26 years ago) holding her favorite rose: Tropicana. And I gave thanks for my girly in Costa Rica who sang to me as I sipped OJ. And for my dad who called to tease me about whose birthday this is and when Columbus Day is. And for friends who blessed me, including Mrs. Blackmon in Texas, my 9th-grade homemaking teacher, who never forgets.

In the shower I claimed the blessing of health with true gratitude, receiving again the washing of regeneration, remembering my baptism. While thanking God for conceiving me, I received the gift: I had just outlived my mother!

Exactly two months from mine today will be Mama's birthday. She died four days short of her 53rd birthday. It was a nasty, sneaky, tenacious cancer that drug her down death's cellar door -- the same sneaky demon that took her one sister, taunted the other one most recently, and threatened nine years ago to kidnap me.

But I am not dead. I am here to celebrate my birthday! These four difficult days have been days of grace and promise. I did not die before my birthday. My mother's story is not my story. I am alive!

I believe again: every day is a gift. But these four ... they broke the curse.
Let the tethers be loosened, child, and live! Halleluia!

Let the Amish Wage Our War on Terror

After a month of "Coming to the Middle" to find our common values,
and after a month of training in methods of NonViolence,
I am more fully confident that war is the least creative option possible.
When the Amish Christians of Lancaster, PA experienced their own "9/11" last week,
they showed us an alternative means of dealing with the "suicide-bomber/hijacker/child molesting/crazed killer."

They took up an offering for his surviving family!

Only a people steeped in the practices of nonviolence for a lifetime or two could possibly have responded that imaginatively. Compassionately. Counter-intuitively.

We need not move to Pennsylvania to learn the ways that make for peace.
There's plenty of opportunity to practice here.

Shalom.

Here's how a Detroit columnist narrates the "hard work of healing" happening there.


Metro Detroit
BRIAN DICKERSON:
The power of example: Lessons of 'Amish 9/11'

October 9, 2006

FREE PRESS COLUMNIST

Am I the only one who thinks the United States would be safer if the Amish were in charge of the war on terror?

A week has passed since the schoolhouse slaughter in Lancaster County, and while the rest of us continue to shake our heads in horror, the Amish are already bent to the hard work of healing.

The massacre shattered the serenity of southeast Pennsylvania's Amish country. An Amish bishop called it "our 9/11," which captures both the shootings' seismic impact and the degree to which the Amish consider themselves a nation apart.

Now the bodies of five little girls and the madman who killed them are in the ground. But if you are like me, what astonishes you the most isn't what a 32-year-old madman did, but how the community whose children he slaughtered has responded.

Charles Roberts IV, who killed himself after shooting 10 helpless schoolgirls, wasn't Amish himself. But his milk delivery route included the farms of many Amish families, including that of 13-year-old Marian Fisher, one of those killed in Roberts' rampage.

So when the Fisher family made plans for Marian's funeral, they naturally invited her killer's widow and children. It wasn't an impulsive invitation, issued in a moment of vengeful anger -- Come see what that monster did! -- but a reflexive recognition that Roberts' survivors, too, were part of a community in need of healing.

Two days later, when the shooter's body was laid to rest, the mourners included dozens of Amish.

There were other examples of continuity and grace: The Amish community's determination that a fund set up to pay for its own children's funeral and medical expenses would be shared with the shooter's survivors; the delegations, official and informal, that bore messages of forgiveness and condolence to the Roberts' doorstep; the decision that funeral processions for the dead girls would pass by the Roberts' house, not be rerouted around it.

To an outside world that understands recrimination better than redemption, it was a dumbfounding spectacle.

Thirty years ago, when I was attending college in New Jersey, I used to pass through Lancaster County several times each year on my way to my parents' home in western New York. Like most visitors to Amish Country, I marveled at its residents' stubborn resistance to modernity. I also remember thinking, not without sadness, that the secular culture would inevitably overwhelm their way of life.

Now I'm not so sure. And this past weekend, as Amish farming families resumed their harvest routines, I found myself thinking about Dr. Seuss' curmudgeonly Grinch.

You remember the story: The Grinch, who detested Christmas and all it stood for, vowed to stop the holiday once and for all. One Christmas Eve, he and his dog Max descended into the peaceful hamlet of Who-ville for an orgy of pillaging. Then, after relieving the despised Whos of all their worldly goods, the Grinch paused on a nearby hilltop to savor the waking Whos' wails of devastation.

What he heard, you may recall, was singing.

Contact BRIAN DICKERSON at 248-351-3697 or dicker@freepress.com.

An Amish Grandfather's Forgiveness: The Fruit of NonViolence

An Amish grandfather's lesson of forgiveness
Words that seem bizarre to many of us flow from lifetime of nonviolence
L. GREGORY JONES
Special to the Charlotte Observer

Shock, dismay, horror -- words that only barely begin to convey our reactions to the killings of five Amish girls in a Pennsylvania schoolhouse this week. How could such a thing happen? We reel at this stark clash of cultures and images: the eruption of modern America's violence with the non-violent Amish; adult bitterness and youthful innocence.

There is also another story here that we risk missing amid the chaos of the moment -- a tale of two lives, lived over time, with very different implications and lessons for all of us.

The grandfather of one of the slain Amish girls was standing next to his 13-year-old granddaughter's body, preparing her for burial. Less than 48 hours after the killings, he told a group of young boys: "We must not think evil of this man." He went on to urge them to forgive the killer, who had taken his own life as well.

Reflections of a life's work
Such words sound bizarre to many of us.How could a grieving grandfather think such thoughts, much less say them, so soon after the killing? Who among us, we wonder, is not thinking evil of this man?

What we miss is how this grandfather's life has been formed by non-violence, by patterns of prayer and worship and peaceful resolution of differences with others.

His words come naturally to him because they are the reflection of how he has lived over the course of a lifetime. They startle many of us who live in the midst of violence, who tend to harbor desires for vengeance, even if we do not act them out violently.

The grandfather would be the first to admit that it is not "natural" for human beings to embody a commitment to forgiveness, to living non-violently, to learning not to think evil of others. That must be learned over time, with the assistance of a wider community of people who share those commitments.

He would say it is learned by following Jesus.

The noted preacher William Sloane Coffin interpreted the verses Romans 8:14-21 by saying, "If you love good you have to hate evil; otherwise you are sentimental. But if you hate evil more than you love good, you simply become a damn good hater, and of such people the world has enough."

Hatred corrodes life
This grandfather is no hater. As a result of the habits of a lifetime, he is speaking and acting as those who know him would expect him to act: as a peaceful man who embodies the art of living as a forgiven and forgiving person. He undoubtedly hates the evil that was done to his granddaughter, but he also knows the corrosive effect of harboring that hatred and letting it define his life and our world.

By contrast, the killer learned to hate extremely well.

He evidently harbored bitterness for more than two decades, and there were no practices of forgiveness and repentance that would have enabled him to discover a way of letting past brokenness remain in the past.

Instead, bitterness seeped into his soul, and his grudge burdened him until it finally exploded in an outrageous series of actions whose effects go even beyond the horror of the young girls' deaths: the scarring of a community and its fragile peaceable life; the despair that many of us feel, wanting some constructive outlet for our own outrage and grief; the fear that we cannot stop the cycles of violence and the imitative destructiveness we have seen in recent school shootings.

Cultivate forgiveness
Our task is to hope even against hope for communities and practices of forgiveness and repentance that can cultivate a future not bound by the destructiveness of the past.
We need not live like the Amish to learn a powerful lesson from the grandfather's life and witness.

But it will take us becoming focused on a renunciation of the violence and vengeance that haunts our own lives and imaginations, and learning to live in relationships and communities that are marked by the regular, difficult, costly yet life-giving patterns and practices of forgiveness and reconciliation.

Iris Murdoch once wrote that "a saint is someone who absorbs evil without passing it on." If a close relative can do so even in the wake of senseless killing, we ought to be able to find ways to cultivate such saintly practices in our own lives. Whatever it takes to do so.

L. Gregory Jones is dean of Duke Divinity School and author of "Embodying Forgiveness: A Theological Analysis." Write him at Duke University Divinity School, Box 90968, Durham NC 27708-0968, or gjones@div.duke.edu.

Christmas Shards Give Easter Glory

A recent Christmas morning we entered the sanctuary to find cold breezes stirring and bricks and rocks strewn across the floor. Everywhere were shards of broken glass. The enormous stained glass window that fronted the entire building had been busted full of holes.

What we learned: Out of brokenness, God creates beauty. From the bits and pieces of a damaged life, God arranges a colorful new reality. Through fragments, the light still shines.

Calvary ~ Where Death Comes to Life!

CALVARY. Isnt' that where they killed him? Preacher, you might oughta think about changing the name of your church. Cause nobody wants to go to a "Place of the Skull" and talk about suffering and death and such as that.

And, besides, CALVARY is just an OLD name. If you really want new people to come, y'all need a new name. Say... House of Hope, or SonRise Chapel. Or try something more contemporary sounding like ... Oasis, or it could be something seductive... Pathway to Grace, maybe.

But make it fresh. Let it be about LIFE, for heaven's sake!

That was the suggestion a decade ago. But instead of changing the name, we changed the church!

The Place of the Skull became The House of the Hardheaded Ones -- tenacious saints who wouldn't give up on their church. The hill far away became the lighted crossroads of the neighborhood. The old church got lost and nearly died, but then it found itself born again as the first reconciling church of the Carolinas!

Now celebrating 90 years here, Calvary still stands as a beacon of hope at the corner of Trinity and Elizabeth in Old North Durham, NC. And it's still, in many respects, "outside the walls." But outside is where we find folks who aren't limited to stodgy old norms of properness. At the fringe of Christ's garment we find people from the fringe of society who didn't used to think they belonged. But Jesus goes there, and that's where all of us find our healing.

Calvary ~ where there's hope at the fringes, a deep connection to the center, and plenty of room to wonder and wander around in between.

Progressive Christianity: an oxymoron?
Come to Calvary UMC and see!