Lord, teach me. . . .

She was five, sure of the facts, and recited them with slow solemnity convinced every word was revelation. She said they were so poor they had only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to eat and they went a long way from home without getting lost. The lady rode a donkey, the man walked, and the baby was inside the lady. They had to stay in a stable with an ox and an ass (hee-hee) but the Three Rich Men found them because a star lited the roof Shepherds came and you could pet the sheep but not feed them. Then the baby was borned. And do you know who he was? Her quarter eyes inflated to silver dollars. The baby was God. And she jumped in the air whirled round, dove into the sofa and buried her head under the cushion which is the only proper response to the Good News of the Incarnation. --John Shea, “The Hour of the Unexpected” Monday  Rest and reflect on the best Christmas you remember as a child. What made it special for you? Share your st

It is now, at Advent, that I am given the chance to suspend all expectation . . . and instead to revel in the mystery. –Jerusalem Jackson Greer Advent can be a season of watching. We watch as nativity scenes spring up. We peer into the cradle, looking for the Christ Child. Christmas carols, Christmas pageants all invite us to come and see. But there’s more to this season than simply standing by and looking. Besides the standard nativity figures—Holy Family, shepherds, Magi—I believe there is one more figure that’s a necessary part of every nativity. It’s you . Pause for a moment and let your mind wander in to that first Christmas, when Jesus was born. Instead of merely looking in as an outsider, like we glance at a Christmas card, place yourself in the scene. Maybe you see yourself as Zechariah or Elizabeth, receiving news of an unexpected pregnancy long, long after you thought those days were over. How do you react when the angel Gabriel shows up? Or perhaps

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” –Mister Rogers There is a famous painting, I am told, that once hung in an art museum in Europe. The artist is no one you’ve likely ever heard of; the quality of the painting is unremarkable. But there is a story that has become attached to this painting that is unforgettable. The painting, titled Checkmate , depicts just what you might expect: the final moments of a close chess match. One party (some say this is Satan) believes he has the game wrapped up, and his human opponent looks on in dismay. The legend goes that years ago, chess master Bobby Fisher visited this museum and came upon this painting. Its subject matter caught his attention, for obvious reasons—but there was something more that grabbed his keen eye. He spent some time studying the painting, then announced to his friend: “We must find the artist.

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. –Carl Sagan Maybe you remember those old commercials for a popular brand of ketchup. The TV screen is filled with a juicy, perfectly-cooked burger; a ketchup bottle is poised over the beef, and as Carly Simon sings, slowly . . . s-l-o-w-l-y . . . the ketchup oozes forth in all its glorious thickness. Wide-eyed children watch, their eyes—and taste buds—eager and waiting. Anticipation. . . . Advent is a little like that. All around us, at every shopping center and department store, we are surrounded by the frantic sights and sounds of the holiday season. Everything is a hurry-scurry, buy-me-now bargain. We seek the newest, the brightest, the best—and the best deal. Grab it, go—and move on to the next stop, quickly! No time for peace on earth, it seems. But if we manage to slow down long enough to worship, everything changes. Relax , whispers the Spirit. Pause with me. Take time along the way to enjoy the jou

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.  –William Arthur Ward We are entering an interesting, sometimes challenging season as followers of the Christ. It probably shouldn’t be as difficult as we make it every year, but the tug of the Lord and the frenzy of the world can point us in starkly different directions if we allow. On one hand, we are beginning our Advent journey, tiptoeing quietly ever closer to the cradle every Sunday, seeking God’s presence in our lives and in our hearts. We light candles. Many of us dedicate ourselves deliberately to a discipline of daily prayer or meditation. Maybe you have an Advent calendar with doors to open or treats to share. Christ our Savior is born! Let heaven and nature sing! And then there’s this other season, the one that begins on Black Friday and continues through Cyber Monday. The markets and malls try to convince us there is a more important kind of saving we all need. BUY! BUY

You have been created in order that you might make a difference. You have within you  the power to change the world. –Andy Andrews It began as a Buddhist philosophy, the idea that something as insignificant as a butterfly’s flutter could have an effect on things halfway around the world. Years of scientific study and research have, indeed, proven the interconnectedness of all things. Like a pebble dropped in a pond, our actions, no matter how small, have a “ripple effect” in the world, often in unexpected ways. Imagine. . . . It has been an emotional, challenging week, as reality came crashing down (again). Innocents died. The world grieves. Politicians posture. Fear lurks. Sometimes it has felt as though darkness has truly won, as if we are alone in the universe. Where is God in the midst of such stuff? I wonder, sometimes, if God is asking the same question of us. Where are his faithful, believing followers? Why aren’t we doing something? Is it because you are

We have met the enemy, and he is us. –Pogo (I am writing a post I really don’t want to write, but am finding I can’t not write.) It’s likely that over the past week or so, you’ve caught wind of the 2015 “War on Christmas” being waged over Starbucks and their seasonal coffee cups. If you’ve been fortunate enough to miss the hubbub, here it is, in a nutshell: In years past, Starbucks has created wintry cups adorned with symbols of the season: snowmen, snowflakes, reindeer. This year, they’ve chosen to issue a plain red cup. No decorations. And this has led some angry, conservative Christians to claim that Starbucks is “declaring war on Christmas.” Seriously? All this over a disposable coffee cup? Who gives a flying . . . reindeer? Here’s what I believe: God did not come in to the world in human form to teach us how to decorate coffee cups. God did not come to model taking offense over how we greet one another, or what kind of music is most God-honoring. No. Jes

Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength. –Arnold Schwarzenegger Living in Cleveland can be a challenge. Despite the many, many wonderful places and things we have going for us—the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, a world-class orchestra and arts district (and Church in the Circle, of course)—sometimes it still feels like we have a big bull’s eye painted on our backs. For instance, it’s been decades since the Cuyahoga River Incident; yet people still get their kicks (and our goat) by bringing up The Day the River Burned. It has also been decades since Cleveland had a sports team “go all the way” to win a championship. Oh, sure, we have come close a few times. But seeing that sea of Royal Blue in celebration in Kansas City reminded us (again): We aren’t there. Yet. Just wait until next year. . . . Sometimes, we just can’t get a break. Thank goodness, in the

God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well. –Voltaire Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was a musical genius. He composed his first piece when he was only five years old. At an early age, he was performing confidently before royalty. A true prodigy, music seemed to pour forth from his soul like water from a well. When Mozart died, he had only completed the first movement of his now-famous Requiem . Bits and pieces of nine other movements were found, but Mozart’s final work would never have been completed if not for Franz Süssmayr, an acquaintance of Mozart's. Süssmayr not only completed the nine partial movements Mozart had left behind; he added four more, all in the manner and style of Mozart. Throughout history, great works have been left unfinished. Sometimes they remain incomplete, as in the case of the watercolor portrait of Franklin Roosevelt, begun on April 12, 1945. The president collapsed and died later that day, and the por

Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if we can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them. –The Dalai Lama How’s that again?? Every Sunday, we flock to our churches to hear about ways to make a difference. Various churches offer food collections, prison ministry opportunities and chances to work on Habitat houses—all manner of ways to live into Jesus’ commandment to love one another. But then we go home, turn on the TV or internet, and for the other six days we are painfully reminded of how far we have yet to go:       --In the past two weeks, seven predominantly Black churches have been targeted by arsonists in Missouri. This is the second recent wave of church burnings. --A judge in Denver ordered a rescue mission that serves homeless men closed following a complaint lodged by the local neighborhood association. --Refugees, from Syria and elsewhere, continue to be turned away as they seek a safer place to raise their families. Do these events sound like lov

Hope is the reason for all change. –church sign Every now and then, someone enters our lives unexpectedly. Maybe we meet them at our workplace; maybe it’s a random grocery store encounter. It may even be a brief, long-distance encounter. Whatever the circumstance, the result is the same: something about the encounter has changed us, led us, perhaps, to a new way of thinking or living. I had such an experience this week when our church bravely hosted Christine Howey in her one-woman play, Exact Change . Through the course of her play, Ms. Howey invites the audience to journey alongside her, as the child born Richard Howey yearns for, realizes and ultimately actualizes his true gender identity and becomes, on the outside, the person he knew existed all along on the inside. Her story is at once humorous, poignant, angst-ridden—and victorious. Through her story, transgender now has a name, a face and a new identity. It takes an incredible amount of courage to reveal one’s t

It’s been a long, long time comin’, but I know a change is gonna come. Oh, yes, it will. –Sam Cooke It’s happened again. The national news anchor interrupts our game shows and soap operas with breaking news: More lives lost in another tragic school shooting. Another child killed in a drive-by. A baby girl caught in gang crossfire. Politicians and “talking heads” line up as the usual rhetoric begins. And for a few days—maybe even a week—we will be, in turns, angry, grieving, sad—and tired. And then, as usual, we begin to rationalize and to forget. There’s nothing I can do, we say. Bad people will always find a way to do bad things. . . . Let the hand-wringing begin. And the finger-pointing. And the excuse making. Do not buy in to the lies and politics . The lives of all our children and grandchildren are too precious to allow them to become pawns in political parrying. Whether you believe the problem lies in too many guns or too few curfews, mental illness or a

My karma ran over your dogma. –Bumper sticker humor/ philosophy     We hear about karma all the time. We make jokes about it regularly. “What goes around, comes around.” “He’ll get what’s coming to him. Just be patient.” We (I) take a bit of satisfaction when that bozo who cut us off in traffic winds up stopped next to us at the red light. Or when that football team that skulked outta town has a really lousy season. It’s karma , baby! Offend the Universe, and the Universe will get even. But karma really has two sides. There’s a great story in the Old Testament about a young man named Joseph. His daddy loved him—more than any of his ten older brothers. That was a problem, because Joseph couldn’t help reminding them of that fact. Finally, the brothers had had enough. They plotted and schemed to throw Joseph down a well, tell Daddy he had died and leave Joseph to fend for himself. Joseph fended very well, indeed, becoming a very important figure in the ruling courts of Eg

God is the offering. God is the offered, poured out by God. God is attained by all those who see God in action. –Bhagavad Gita This week has been “history in the making” in the United States. Pope Francis arrived, not so much in his own glory, but seeking to shine the light of God into a nation sometimes mired in its own darkness (like every nation). It’s been an interesting week, as lines have been drawn at times—but also blurred. As the pope arrived on the eve of Yom Kippur, Jews gathered at the Lincoln Memorial for a service of repentance and forgiveness. In another city, Christians and Muslims, in a rare moment of interfaith courage, came together and prayed for one another. A saint was canonized. His Holiness addressed Congress. For a few days, all eyes seemed turned in one direction, pointing towards reconciliation. But then the grumbling began. He’s the pope , not a politician! He needs to stick to God-talk. Where does he get off talking about climate change .

I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are [children] of one religion, and it is the spirit. –Khalil Gibran There are a whole lot of other things happening on Sunday morning besides church. If your place of worship offers services on other days and times—well, there are certainly plenty of other options then, as well. So why do this? What is it about this time together that keeps us (you) coming back, week after week? Stop for a minute and really think about this. Is it the music? Whether it’s Switchfoot or Chopin, Haydn or Hillsong, music is a vital part of worship for many. But let’s face it: Sirius ® can offer all this music and more —plus news, sports. . . . There must be another reason. Maybe you’re drawn by the dynamic message of the spoken word, inspiring and potentially life-changing. Again—so many other places to get a “Jesus fix” (including “90-second Sermons” when you’re short on time). From the ou

Each one of them is Jesus in disguise. –Mother Teresa We have this man who lives on our street, a gentle soul. I can never remember his name, and I think maybe he likes it that way. Last February, Old Man Winter came on like gangbusters, with falling snow and falling temperatures. The wind picked up that snow, danced a few bars and plopped it unceremoniously back on the driveway. I looked out the window and sighed, wishing my strong, willing husband wasn’t in Montana. But then I heard it, the low, steady hum of a snow blower making its way slowly, slowly up the street—and up my driveway! My unnamed neighbor, dressed in Carhartt from head to toe, made light work of my driveway and moved on to the next one. . . . About a month ago, when the young couple across the street (new to the neighborhood) let the grass get a little too tall and a little too shaggy, there he was one morning, this time with his power mower. He came, he mowed—and he moseyed off in anonymity. Carin

It’s not enough to attend church every Sunday; you have to act. –Abbe Pierre Summer is drawing to a close. The tinkly music of the ice cream truck is giving way to the growl and groan of school buses. Children (of all ages) trade in flip flops and tube tops for “real” clothes. It never fails: Nature sends off one last blast of summer heat before the crisp chill of autumn creeps in. Our routine at Church in the Circle changes, as well. Our casual worship in the air-conditioned comfort of the Great Hall draws to a close as we prepare to return to the Sanctuary upstairs, where some might say “real” church happens. And in between, that connecting Sunday lovingly known as Rally Day: casual worship outside on the lawn, and hot dogs after. We dare to storm the walls— out —where the world will see us and hear us in all our celebration and imperfection. Letting people see us and hear us makes them wonder, perhaps, if there is a place for them. If they might belong in this communi

Experts always know everything but the fine points. –Hedy Lamarr It happens all the time. It’s one of those things every pastor and every seminary student has experienced. We smile, we shake our heads in puzzlement—but it still happens: at potlucks, at parties and meetings, even random social gatherings. The time comes to get things started. Eyes frantically search the room, looking . . . looking . . . aha! There she is! Heidi, would you mind praying for us? Now, don’t get me wrong: I don’t mind. I believe prayer is a spiritual gift, and I’ve been gifted. It just strikes me (and many pastors) as ironic that when it comes time to say grace over a church dinner, it seems we need an “expert” to do so. When it comes to prayer, the playing field has been completely leveled. There is nothing about my seminary degree that makes my prayers any more pleasing to the Creator than the quiet whispers of a child, or the tangled, anguished gibberish of a broken, hurting teen

"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit."   - Psalm 34:15-22 (This week’s thoughts are from Quinn G. Caldwell, via Still Speaking , a publication of the United Church of Christ.) This one's a no-brainer. When it comes to the down-on-their-luck and the never-had-any-luck, the down-at-the-heels and the can't-afford-any-heels, the downcast and the cast-off, God is a big ole softie. Like a little old lady who can't stop taking stray cats into her house, God won't stop going to the crushed in spirit and taking them into God’s own heart. Unlike the cat lady, however, God actually has all it takes to give every one of those spirits a good forever home. And you're part of the plan.   You know somebody with a broken heart. I know you do. So here's today's assignment: be a big old softie. Go visit or call him or her on the phone and say, "I've been thinking about you. How are you?" Then listen, hard.

By salvation, I mean, not barely (according to the vulgar notion) deliverance from hell, or going to heaven, but a present deliverance . . . the renewal of our souls after the image of God in . . . justice, mercy and truth. –John Wesley A few weeks back, we reflected on faith vs. works. Which is more important as Christians: what we believe, or how we live our lives? My belief is, it’s both. In coming to believe in the tremendous love and grace God offers us, the joy that fills the soul spills over, leading us to want, more than anything, to share that love with others. So this week, another question: What do you believe is meant by the word salvation ? Many Christians believe salvation is an individual affair. Christ died for my sins, and because he saved me, when I die I will be welcomed into God’s Kingdom and spend all of eternity in the loving company of Jesus. Other Christians will tell you that salvation was, indeed, Christ’s mission in the world. But his m