Tuesday, August 15, 2017

I preached on Sunday

I preached on Sunday.

I preach every Sunday.  Most Sundays my message is encouraging and hopeful.  Most Sundays my message is intended to teach my congregation how to love the neighbor and themselves and their God.  Most Sundays my congregation leaves feeling good - I hope.

But this past Sunday I preached a message that had me shaken and upset.  I preached about the things that happened in Charlottesville, Virginia over the weekend.  I called out white supremacists and racists and haters of all kinds. I told a story from my life, when a neighbor and a friend burned a cross in our newest neighbor’s front yard.  There was nothing nice or sweet or encouraging about my sermon.   I raised my voice.  I called a sin a sin.  I called on my folks to do the same. 

Every Sunday my sermons are posted on Facebook and YouTube and GooglePlus and on my blog and on the church website.  Most weeks there are “likes” and +1s and comments and shares.

This week - nothing.

This week no one on the inter webs said anything.

But from my own congregation, the people who sat here and experienced it with me . . . 

there were smiles and tears and hugs and pats on the back
there were emails and text messages later telling me how powerfully it had spoken to them.
I was mobbed after worship, by youth and young adults, thanking me for what I said.

I have gotten used to the public approval.  I missed it.  Maybe I even crave it.

But the important people heard it. The people I was preaching to heard it.  And received it.

More importantly though - I said it.  I said what I needed to say, no matter how hard it was, no matter how scary it was.  Because it needed to be said Sunday, and it will need to be said again and again.

As long as there is hatred, we need to preach love.

Even for the haters.

For Jesus said, ““You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. …”   Matthew 5:43-48



Wednesday, July 12, 2017

One?

This week I am attending the General Assembly of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Indianapolis.  There are a few thousand of us present, attending workshops, visiting with old friends and making new ones, checking out all the information booths and buying gifts (And Chocolate!) for ourselves and others at the many Fair Trade booths, and doing our best to run the local baristas out of coffee.  For us West Coast folks Steak n Shake is a popular mealtime destination, as most of us don’t have access to this particular hamburger chain.  There are amazing worship services featuring good music and powerful preaching.  And there are business meetings.

I must confess right away that I have been to very little of this Assembly in person.  The wonderful menus selected by the various schools and other organizations whose meals I attended were very rich and oh so very yummy.  Unfortunately, although my mouth LOVES rich foods, the rest of my system does not.  So I have spent most of this Assembly in my hotel room wandering between bed and bathroom instead of in the Convention Center wandering between workshops and Plenary Sessions.  :-(

But I have been paying attention.  Many of my friends Tweet about what is going on in the worship services and business meetings, and some write fairly lengthy commentaries at the end of each day.  Between those writers and the daily news released by the Disciples News Service, I have a fair idea of what is happening.

There have been many Sense of the Assembly Resolutions passed by this Assembly.  They are about carbon neutrality and immigration and the Doctrine of Discovery and caring for the poor and treating the Canadian Disciples of Christ equally and whether or not to continue having General Assemblies every other year.  Plenty of people stood up at the microphones to speak in favor of all these Social Justice resolutions, but hardly anyone spoke out against anything.  That either means that every resolution presented was so well written and such a no-brainer that none of the hundreds of voters present had any objection to any of them . . . Or that for some reason those who would speak against felt that they should keep silence.

According to some of the conversations I have seen on Twitter and Facebook, the latter is much more the case than the former.

Some years back, in my first church, one of the Elders decided that his invitation to giving should be a monologue on the giant “mistake” being made by the City Council, in which he made it pretty clear that anyone who was not as liberal as he and as concerned about homelessness as he was no true Christian.  A few days later one of the older ladies called me and begged me to talk to her sister.  It seems that she heard what he said as a condemnation of her affiliation with the Republican Party, and believed that she would no longer be welcome in our congregation.  This could not have been further from the truth!  We had a conversation in which I made it as clear as I possibly could that one man’s opinion was just that - one man’s opinion - and that he did not speak for the entire congregation, only for himself.  She stayed with us until her death several years later.  (I also had a conversation with the Elder, who honestly didn’t believe what he said was political in the least.  He was convinced he was talking about social justice, period.)

I have been reading some “discussions” on Facebook and Twitter with nearly as much dismay as I felt when I was asked to speak with my elderly member all those years ago.   There are some who are feeling pushed out.  There are some who are actually saying in print that anyone who voted for President Trump doesn’t belong in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).

And yet we keep talking about “One” - about Unity.  Jose Morales preached on Saturday night that Unity, true unity, is very difficult, because it does NOT mean that everyone agrees on everything, rather that everyone has different opinions and agree to work together towards the Beloved Community, a world where justice and compassion rule and oppression is a thing of the past.   That means the liberal and conservative, the oppressed and the privileged, the old and the young, all must work together toward that one goal - and All means All.  It doesn’t mean that if you disagree, you need to leave.  It doesn’t mean if you disagree, you don’t belong here.  It means that if you disagree, you need to find a way to present your side in such a way that others will hear you - and that you must be willing to listen when someone you disagree with needs to speak.  

I love this Church.  But I am fearful that we are becoming as deeply divided as our nation is.  I am fearful that the Church that welcomed me, who wasn’t welcome elsewhere, will come to an end, and I will belong nowhere, again.  I pray that we will work toward being One through the use of this beloved saying:

In essentials Unity.  In non-essentials, Liberty.  In all things, Love.


Saturday, March 25, 2017

Things I know about me.

"Confession is good for the soul."  True.
"Joy shared is joy doubled.  Pain shared is pain halved."  Also true.

The thing is, it takes a lot of courage to share and when the thing that needs to be shared is fear, it seems to require even more courage than usual.  You see, I suffer from anxiety in a number of fairly specific situations.  The anxiety is caused in part by upbringing and in part by PTSD - although, come to think of it, I could be traumatized by the stress of trying to live up to my mother's expectations.

Unfortunately, those specific situations are often every day, gotta-do-them-for-work type situations.  

For example:

Going to a new place for the first time with the attendant risk of getting lost.
When I am lost I don't know for sure whether I am safe, and the anxiety that results from being a rape survivor triggers an anxiety attack.  I work very hard at making sure I know how to get where I am going, how long it ought to take, alternate routes in case of road construction or accidents, and as many landmark type details as I can put together.  This is much easier today with all the GPS map apps, and Siri is a true blessing. But I still plan in advance, just in case.   IF it should happen, as it did today, that I was headed for an event and I discovered at the last minute before leaving that I had the location wrong, anxiety kicks in and I cannot force myself to leave the house.   Then I need to contact a friend who understands for help settling back down again.

Visiting people.
My mother taught us to NEVER EVER invite ourselves over to anyone's home.  She was so strict about this particular rule that she wouldn't even ask her own sister if she could come to visit!  As children this meant when we were playing with neighbor kids and needed to use the bathroom we had to run home instead of asking if we could use theirs.  If they invited us into the house, that was ok.  But otherwise, we had to either hold it or go home.  As an adult it means that it takes all I have to call a member of the church and ask if I might drop in.  Since I am the pastor, this is kind of a problem.   I can do it if I know the person a bit and have been there before at their invitation, or if I have visited with other people.  But the first time, even the second time, is totally panic inducing.  I will pick up the phone and freeze, unable to even dial the number.   That is getting a little better, but I am glad that a few people at the church are now aware of this issue and are willing to help me through it.

Going to events alone.
I want to.  I really do want to go to so many events here in Selma and in the nearby city of Fresno.  I want to go to football games and girls wrestling matches and the high school musical and plays at the Art Center and concerts of the Fresno Master Chorale and music in the park during the summer.  But I can't seem to force myself to walk into any of those places by myself.  Maybe if I know there will be people there I know, and I know where to find them at the event.  But just the idea of walking in alone causes nausea and hyperventilation.  I simply cannot be certain that I am safe.

Going to any place where I will be one of a very few women in a crowd of men.
I'm a domestic violence and rape survivor with resultant PTSD.  A room full of men can be terrifying.  The first time I tried to go to what is said to be the best donut shop in Selma it was full of men.  I couldn't even walk in the door to get to the women behind the counter.  I went back later, when there weren't many customers.  Luckily, donuts are bad for me.

Therapy has helped.  Talking to others about it has helped.  Sharing it with what feels like the whole world is terrifying.  But I know that I am not the only one with these issues, and hopefully me sharing will be of help to someone.

God said, "Fear not, for I am with you."  It's hard to remember that when I'm in the grip of an anxiety attack.  But I always do remember, and I am able to get through the anxiety more quickly.  Sometimes I can even avoid the attack entirely.   It is a process, and this is part of that process.

Thanks for listening.