Is not the day of the Lord darkness, and not light? Is it not very dark, with no brightness in it? I hate, I despise your feast days, and I do not savor your sacred assemblies.... But let justice run down like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream. - Amos 5:20-21, 24
The Christian Community, the ecclesia is made up of those who take up that messianic practice of Jesus and use it to create social relationships of a community of brothers and sisters... - Gustavo Gutierrez
I enjoyed being a commissioner to the 218th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) in San Jose, California. I learned a lot from my stand for Moderator, and relish the memory of the whole experience. My west coast trip still seems a bit surreal, like being in a bubble for 10 days. Being home is to realize I don’t have to wear a name tag around my neck to feel dressed!
The convention center is across the street from a delightful park, resplendent with purple-flowered Crepe Myrtle trees, named in honor of Caesar Chavez. From time to time during the week I would spend time there to get some respite from the pressing (but pleasant!) business of the Assembly.
The oasis was a study of contrasts. Surrounded by expensive hotels and restaurants, it was a refuge for persons experiencing homelessness. There were times, in early morning and evening, when it seemed as though the only persons in the city were badged conventioneers and persons without homes. “Two worlds,” I sometimes thought.
The Assembly was a striking illustration of the Church gathered but not in a “Church.” It was an example of the fact that our true center of worship is not in a building or sanctuary, but in the affairs of the community – in the comportment of shared relationships.
It is certainly true that the Church, as an institution, needs to be organized. But historic institutional forms such as steeples, pews, membership roles, and the like are not at the heart of what a Church actually is. At a time of great cultural shift the most important question the Church can ask is whether its form is best suited for asserting and achieving its mission in the world.
The high purpose of the Church is the proclamation of the Gospel for the redemption of humankind. Our culture is beset by the growing problem of barriers – cultural, economic, racial, and social. The great social issues of justice and human rights are matters that are now beginning to concern every citizen at the point of their own personal life. Frustrated by a sense of powerlessness, people are beginning to draw on a deep desire to see things change, to make a difference. The personal connection is in that in working together to achieve a better world, we can ensure our own future and that of our children.
Returning to my experience of being part of the General Assembly, I was struck that our process of voting on controversial issues, adopting major interpretations and proposed revisions to the Book of Order, was achieved by close election (voting margins of 53% to 47 % were the usual). This created demarcation of winners and losers on passionate issues, such as the possible ordination of gay or lesbian persons as ministers. Opinions were held by many as matters of principle and conscience.
At the same time we wished to achieve neighborhood together – a unity of purpose and common will to accomplish our mission. Yet, at our most important moments, we failed dramatically in this aspiration.
I wonder if we could have achieved more simply by reaching out, even in a symbolic way, to those marginal folk who gathered by us in the adjacent plaza. Our tendency often is to ask in the form of the question, “What would Jesus do?” That question has always struck me as superficial and tending in the wrong direction.
I would rather ask, “Why did our hearts not move us to ask the most important question of all: How might we achieve neighborhood and communion among ourselves and those, our neighbors, to our Assembly?’ I think this question matters, because by God’s own standard the success of a Church is defined by its achievement of justice and reconciliation in the world – not in the likeness of its pronouncements.
Presbyterians, of all people, know this deeply in their hearts.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Marsha
I haven’t posted for a while. The sudden turn in my dear wife’s cancer, and her subsequent death have taken over my days. I am still grieving and it hurts. The support and encouragement has been overwhelming, and it all has helped to keep my faith strong and growing. But the pain is another thing, and that seems endless right now.
It helps to think forward. Memories are too difficult, although I can’t stop the flashbacks, the sadness of separation, all the words left unsaid and plans never to be filled.
One of the absolute joys earlier this year was the excitement and anticipation we shared in my calling to stand for Moderator. Marsha’s excitement and faith surpassed mine, and the joy of her confidence was a rock of encouragement. The prognosis for her health was excellent, and we looked forward to a good year.
All that changed in early April, when we were suddenly confronted with the seriousness of her undiscovered cancer. From that point, I only wanted to be with Marsha in every way possible to hope and struggle against the odds for a healing. Death came instead, and with unimaginable speed.
In the last two weeks, as Marsha’s symptoms increased and my time was fully devoted to being with her, she quietly asked me to promise that whatever happened I would continue the stand for Moderator. It meant so much to her. I could only remain silent as she looked at me, and as we both knew together that all things were in the hands of God. I could not make that promise, hoping that in my silence she would understand.
When we were married, we were in love. We promised each other that the life we would make together would be a help to the community and the world. We never imagined how much our hopes and dreams would be fulfilled in our work with Meeting Ground. As the years progressed we learned to work together more and more. Even in times of personal disagreement, we remained solid and hopeful in our faith and relationship as we knew how much our ministry helped others. Marsha believed in and implemented the ideals of Meeting Ground more than anyone. The love we knew at the end was so much wider and deeper than that we had at first.
Marsha, I am grateful to God for our years together, and for you, my dearest friend and partner. I do love you so, even as you taught me so much what it means to love in deed. I will be going to San Jose, and whatever happens in the plan of our Lord, I will do my best to make you proud.
It helps to think forward. Memories are too difficult, although I can’t stop the flashbacks, the sadness of separation, all the words left unsaid and plans never to be filled.
One of the absolute joys earlier this year was the excitement and anticipation we shared in my calling to stand for Moderator. Marsha’s excitement and faith surpassed mine, and the joy of her confidence was a rock of encouragement. The prognosis for her health was excellent, and we looked forward to a good year.
All that changed in early April, when we were suddenly confronted with the seriousness of her undiscovered cancer. From that point, I only wanted to be with Marsha in every way possible to hope and struggle against the odds for a healing. Death came instead, and with unimaginable speed.
In the last two weeks, as Marsha’s symptoms increased and my time was fully devoted to being with her, she quietly asked me to promise that whatever happened I would continue the stand for Moderator. It meant so much to her. I could only remain silent as she looked at me, and as we both knew together that all things were in the hands of God. I could not make that promise, hoping that in my silence she would understand.
When we were married, we were in love. We promised each other that the life we would make together would be a help to the community and the world. We never imagined how much our hopes and dreams would be fulfilled in our work with Meeting Ground. As the years progressed we learned to work together more and more. Even in times of personal disagreement, we remained solid and hopeful in our faith and relationship as we knew how much our ministry helped others. Marsha believed in and implemented the ideals of Meeting Ground more than anyone. The love we knew at the end was so much wider and deeper than that we had at first.
Marsha, I am grateful to God for our years together, and for you, my dearest friend and partner. I do love you so, even as you taught me so much what it means to love in deed. I will be going to San Jose, and whatever happens in the plan of our Lord, I will do my best to make you proud.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
A very good Friday
The four candidates for Moderator were together for the first time on Friday (April 25) for Forums in New Jersey at Bloomfield College and “Meet-and-Greet” event at Lawrenceville Presbyterian Church. It was a spectacular day for us!
We each shared vision of what the Church could and should be, answered questions, and had discussion. It was satisfying and uplifting to feel the sense of commitment to each other and to the health of the faith community that we hold together. The Spirit guided our conversations and our fellowship. I felt it strongly.
The Presbyterians gathered at both events were thoughtful, hopeful, expectant, and challenging! There were GA commissioners, seminary advisory delegates, youth advisory delegates, and other folks who were just plain interested! Questions ranged from our opinion of including the Belhar Confession into the Book of Order, to our definition of the most important issue on which the Assembly will deliberate – covering issues of inclusion, the future of the Church, and potential solutions to the problems that beset us as a denomination.
At Lawrenceville we candidates had the opportunity to sit together over supper, and get to know each other informally and more personally. Bill Teng and I went to the same college years ago, so it was good to renew the friendship. Bill, Roger, and I had the opportunity to drive to the events together earlier that day. Bruce flew in directly, and Roger and I met him for the first time. We came together as names, photographs, and emails to each other: we left supper as brothers in Christ.
I love this stand for Moderator. It’s an energizing, uplifting, and a soulful experience. Only one among us will be elected, or perhaps a candidate yet unknown who may be nominated from the floor of the Assembly, but whatever the outcome, we can say most happily that Christ is beside us, among us, and with us: The head of our Church, the body we share as One.
We each shared vision of what the Church could and should be, answered questions, and had discussion. It was satisfying and uplifting to feel the sense of commitment to each other and to the health of the faith community that we hold together. The Spirit guided our conversations and our fellowship. I felt it strongly.
The Presbyterians gathered at both events were thoughtful, hopeful, expectant, and challenging! There were GA commissioners, seminary advisory delegates, youth advisory delegates, and other folks who were just plain interested! Questions ranged from our opinion of including the Belhar Confession into the Book of Order, to our definition of the most important issue on which the Assembly will deliberate – covering issues of inclusion, the future of the Church, and potential solutions to the problems that beset us as a denomination.
At Lawrenceville we candidates had the opportunity to sit together over supper, and get to know each other informally and more personally. Bill Teng and I went to the same college years ago, so it was good to renew the friendship. Bill, Roger, and I had the opportunity to drive to the events together earlier that day. Bruce flew in directly, and Roger and I met him for the first time. We came together as names, photographs, and emails to each other: we left supper as brothers in Christ.
I love this stand for Moderator. It’s an energizing, uplifting, and a soulful experience. Only one among us will be elected, or perhaps a candidate yet unknown who may be nominated from the floor of the Assembly, but whatever the outcome, we can say most happily that Christ is beside us, among us, and with us: The head of our Church, the body we share as One.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
The Same Forever
On Sunday I preached at Elkton Presbyterian Church. It’s the first time I’ve been back to preach for many months, though I’m in that church every Friday for Community Kitchen. I led both services, traditional and the new contemporary. It was a deeply moving experience for me. The church is changing and, like always, I am astonished to see God’s creative grace in the midst of a renewed and growing community.
I remember the church over the years... very traditional, mainstream Presbyterian. Recently, though, a quiet revolution has been taking place: a compelling move to reach out in mission, and, even more significantly, the church itself has become a place of doing mission.
I saw it in the mix of people... not just long time members and staunch defenders of the traditional faith, but folks from our community at Meeting Ground and Kitchen who have been homeless, and one woman experiencing homelessness who felt warmly welcome to come to church just like an old-timer. Pastor Laurie Loveless has been a gentle, determined leader.
The contemporary service was crowded, and there was an atmosphere of Spirit... worship leaders were not afraid of making a blunder, but free to praise God and share the warmth of being present. Just outside the sanctuary, small round tables were set up. People were enjoying fellowship with refreshments, but unlike a rigid after-church coffee hour, it had the informality and relaxed ambiance of a sidewalk café.
I preach in a lot of churches, and I see this movement emerging. Not just among Presbyterians, but in other denominations too. There is the sense that an old order is being laid to rest, although I am certain there is much in the tradition that will always stay rooted in our common heart. But it is the warmth, the Spirit of relationship, a new way of being “church” together. And it’s humbling to realize that the Lord God is not limited to denominational boundaries. God is at work in the world for sure, and maybe now, at long last, in our churches as well.
Most remarkable of all, there is a sense that church political issues are not so important. The people are centered in Jesus, present and alive, and focused on right-relationships with God, themselves, and all others. They are eager to make a difference, in the Church certainly, but more especially in the world. The Spirit is moving among us in a dynamic new way.
I kept thinking all day: God help us Presbyterians if we fail to grasp this and to follow its tide. It’s not a fad, that’s for sure. Forward looking, yes. But it is moving toward our roots – it’s a radical movement... a return to the day as when Paul was passionate to say, “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified... “ 1Corinthians 2:2 Fancy that. Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and today and forever our future.
I remember the church over the years... very traditional, mainstream Presbyterian. Recently, though, a quiet revolution has been taking place: a compelling move to reach out in mission, and, even more significantly, the church itself has become a place of doing mission.
I saw it in the mix of people... not just long time members and staunch defenders of the traditional faith, but folks from our community at Meeting Ground and Kitchen who have been homeless, and one woman experiencing homelessness who felt warmly welcome to come to church just like an old-timer. Pastor Laurie Loveless has been a gentle, determined leader.
The contemporary service was crowded, and there was an atmosphere of Spirit... worship leaders were not afraid of making a blunder, but free to praise God and share the warmth of being present. Just outside the sanctuary, small round tables were set up. People were enjoying fellowship with refreshments, but unlike a rigid after-church coffee hour, it had the informality and relaxed ambiance of a sidewalk café.
I preach in a lot of churches, and I see this movement emerging. Not just among Presbyterians, but in other denominations too. There is the sense that an old order is being laid to rest, although I am certain there is much in the tradition that will always stay rooted in our common heart. But it is the warmth, the Spirit of relationship, a new way of being “church” together. And it’s humbling to realize that the Lord God is not limited to denominational boundaries. God is at work in the world for sure, and maybe now, at long last, in our churches as well.
Most remarkable of all, there is a sense that church political issues are not so important. The people are centered in Jesus, present and alive, and focused on right-relationships with God, themselves, and all others. They are eager to make a difference, in the Church certainly, but more especially in the world. The Spirit is moving among us in a dynamic new way.
I kept thinking all day: God help us Presbyterians if we fail to grasp this and to follow its tide. It’s not a fad, that’s for sure. Forward looking, yes. But it is moving toward our roots – it’s a radical movement... a return to the day as when Paul was passionate to say, “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified... “ 1Corinthians 2:2 Fancy that. Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and today and forever our future.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
My hope & vision for the church
Why I Am Standing for Moderator of the 218th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)?
I am posting this from my web site: www.carlmazza.org. It’s a bit long, and maybe more than most want to know!
Setting down my vision, and a "platform" as such has been a challenging job, indeed. I have tried to be candid in expressing the essentials, but this is also a road which is made as we journey together. I would love to hear from you... your own hopes and vision, and discussion around mine!
Since this is the long version... you can always skim to the bottom for the “bottom line.”
It was through Presbyterian Mission that I was introduced to a living God, and to the loving community of faith of the Presbyterian Church. My first exposure to Presbyterians was as a troubled teenager, homeless with my family, angry and alienated. A group of young people, their youth leader, and a dedicated pastor befriended me - their witness and love and introduced me to a warm and vibrant personal faith in God through Jesus Christ. I owe to these persons, and to the church which nurtured all of us, a great debt of love. In my ministry I have tried to return to the church, and to others who are experiencing alienation and homeless, the same blessing of hope which was extended to me in my need. I feel a strong call to stand for Moderator so that I can share this passion of my ministry with the church that I love. I can offer a unique perspective on the importance of mission and evangelism - it is a deeply rooted part of my heart and my personal journey with the Lord.
Presbyterians are people of strong faith, opinion, and personal commitment. This same zeal and passion which is our hallmark is also that which can alienate us from one another. The world needs us desperately because it needs to know the life we have found in Christ, and the redeeming power of it. It is the good news which calls us together as the church. We hold in our hands the power to bless the world. The energy of this calling is far more intense than anything that could divide us. We are the agent of the most significant force for change ever known.
In my 27 years of ministry with Meeting Ground, I have learned the powerful dynamic that God calls us to witness in loving community. This means, not that we are all the same, but that we stand together in our diversity and use it as a powerful advantage to accomplish our purposes. I have also learned that this is a fragile accomplishment at times, and that wishful thinking is not enough to create a strong unity. I don't have all the answers to achieving reconciliation or resolution of differences, but I have learned that often in our helplessness we can find grace to come together -- in ways we don't fully understand, in love. We have faith that God will give us the courage to risk – to form new and potent transforming relationships with all, and to be authentic and candid in our dialogue and action.
At Meeting Ground we experience this amazing grace in action. To do our work, we must bring together churches and individuals from widely diverse faith perspectives - conservative, liberal, evangelical, radical - moving beyond "labels" in the desire to do our mission, for which we all yearn deeply. I want to do all I can to promote the peace, unity, and purity of the church by inspiring and encouraging our growing, grassroots desire to be missional - especially to those among us and in our world who are homeless, living on the margins, outcast and yearning for that love, hope, and justice which only comes through the passion of a committed community of faith.
I believe our Presbyterian Church, while not the largest of denominations, is unique because of its strong historic service to the Gospel and to the need to witness and evangelize with power, persistence, and passion. I feel we are poised on the edge of a "new thing," thirsting to say yes to a fresh moving of the Spirit to renew this commitment in creative and energetic new ways.
If the church loses this heart, and seeks its redemption elsewhere, it will fail in its calling. We are at a crossroad as a denomination. God is calling us to radical transformation, which must begin with the creation of sacred space among us in which honest, authentic, and open relationships and dialogue can take place. We seek this unity for a purpose: as salt of the earth. It is not only our beloved church that stands at a crossroad, it is our world.
Presbyterians have a rich and unique tradition. We are a people of faith, hope, and love. Yet, we are also a people whose median age is 58 years for members and elders, and the trend continues to move older. Almost all members (97%), elders (96%), pastors (93%), and specialized clergy (90%) are white. Our racial-ethnic makeup has changed little in the last three decades. Yet, our society is changing rapidly, and while we desire to be present with the world in our life and witness, it is clear that we have a long way to go. We are challenged at this time in our history to "lose our life in order to save it."
We must be candid in our understanding of ourselves. We cannot substitute personal piety for failure to do justice; or claim an institutional purity which silences those who wish to be candid and honest in seeking to be faithful and true to God and themselves. We must accept the grace to work for the unity that empowers us for mission. It is the Gospel to which we are called, not to religion.
My expectations and hope for myself and the church in my service as Moderator:
- Serving together with all to be faithful and energetic in meeting with all, listening carefully to all, and praying with all for the peace, unity, and purity of our church. I will encourage sacred space, a place of safety and togetherness to speak in whole terms that which is on our hearts – our most sincere beliefs and longings.
- Serving together with all to encourage us to move beyond a dutiful toleration and forbearance of our deepest differences, toward a willingness to unite in love around those things which are essential and precious to us all – even our life and commitment to Jesus and the deep desire we share for authoritative evangelism and world-transforming mission.
- Serving together with all to challenge our ways of being a church, emphasizing the need for candid, authentic, and sincere building of relationships and seeking communion among us as a people.
- Serving together with all to challenge us to put all forms, traditions, and ways on the table, and to take what is best and meaningful as the basis of for new ways of being church and doing mission.
If I am elected Moderator, this is how I envision the church to be different at the end of two years:
More diverse: particularly extending the boundaries of our community to be more inclusive of persons who struggle at the margins of society: persons who have experienced homelessness, persons struggling to survive on low-incomes, those who are dispossessed or alienated from church and society.
More unified in being missional: extending the boundaries of what we mean by "parish" and "community" - focusing on creative and energizing mission, redemptive service that makes a difference in the lives of persons who are hurting, commitment to a more just society in economics, environment, social dignity, and equality of rights - including the right to housing, education, healthcare, and the right to live with dignity by one's own means.
More committed to creative mission, based on justice: mission that brings the gospel and the power alive in a mutuality of service. One that includes those being served in service, and gives to all equally the power to be givers as well as receivers. Mission that is focused on building community and relationships, not simply providing goods and services. Mission that transforms the church as well as the lives of all persons involved.
More radical in its message: moving forward to our roots - to the person of Jesus, the power of the Gospel, and our unity in these.
I am posting this from my web site: www.carlmazza.org. It’s a bit long, and maybe more than most want to know!
Setting down my vision, and a "platform" as such has been a challenging job, indeed. I have tried to be candid in expressing the essentials, but this is also a road which is made as we journey together. I would love to hear from you... your own hopes and vision, and discussion around mine!
Since this is the long version... you can always skim to the bottom for the “bottom line.”
It was through Presbyterian Mission that I was introduced to a living God, and to the loving community of faith of the Presbyterian Church. My first exposure to Presbyterians was as a troubled teenager, homeless with my family, angry and alienated. A group of young people, their youth leader, and a dedicated pastor befriended me - their witness and love and introduced me to a warm and vibrant personal faith in God through Jesus Christ. I owe to these persons, and to the church which nurtured all of us, a great debt of love. In my ministry I have tried to return to the church, and to others who are experiencing alienation and homeless, the same blessing of hope which was extended to me in my need. I feel a strong call to stand for Moderator so that I can share this passion of my ministry with the church that I love. I can offer a unique perspective on the importance of mission and evangelism - it is a deeply rooted part of my heart and my personal journey with the Lord.
Presbyterians are people of strong faith, opinion, and personal commitment. This same zeal and passion which is our hallmark is also that which can alienate us from one another. The world needs us desperately because it needs to know the life we have found in Christ, and the redeeming power of it. It is the good news which calls us together as the church. We hold in our hands the power to bless the world. The energy of this calling is far more intense than anything that could divide us. We are the agent of the most significant force for change ever known.
In my 27 years of ministry with Meeting Ground, I have learned the powerful dynamic that God calls us to witness in loving community. This means, not that we are all the same, but that we stand together in our diversity and use it as a powerful advantage to accomplish our purposes. I have also learned that this is a fragile accomplishment at times, and that wishful thinking is not enough to create a strong unity. I don't have all the answers to achieving reconciliation or resolution of differences, but I have learned that often in our helplessness we can find grace to come together -- in ways we don't fully understand, in love. We have faith that God will give us the courage to risk – to form new and potent transforming relationships with all, and to be authentic and candid in our dialogue and action.
At Meeting Ground we experience this amazing grace in action. To do our work, we must bring together churches and individuals from widely diverse faith perspectives - conservative, liberal, evangelical, radical - moving beyond "labels" in the desire to do our mission, for which we all yearn deeply. I want to do all I can to promote the peace, unity, and purity of the church by inspiring and encouraging our growing, grassroots desire to be missional - especially to those among us and in our world who are homeless, living on the margins, outcast and yearning for that love, hope, and justice which only comes through the passion of a committed community of faith.
I believe our Presbyterian Church, while not the largest of denominations, is unique because of its strong historic service to the Gospel and to the need to witness and evangelize with power, persistence, and passion. I feel we are poised on the edge of a "new thing," thirsting to say yes to a fresh moving of the Spirit to renew this commitment in creative and energetic new ways.
If the church loses this heart, and seeks its redemption elsewhere, it will fail in its calling. We are at a crossroad as a denomination. God is calling us to radical transformation, which must begin with the creation of sacred space among us in which honest, authentic, and open relationships and dialogue can take place. We seek this unity for a purpose: as salt of the earth. It is not only our beloved church that stands at a crossroad, it is our world.
Presbyterians have a rich and unique tradition. We are a people of faith, hope, and love. Yet, we are also a people whose median age is 58 years for members and elders, and the trend continues to move older. Almost all members (97%), elders (96%), pastors (93%), and specialized clergy (90%) are white. Our racial-ethnic makeup has changed little in the last three decades. Yet, our society is changing rapidly, and while we desire to be present with the world in our life and witness, it is clear that we have a long way to go. We are challenged at this time in our history to "lose our life in order to save it."
We must be candid in our understanding of ourselves. We cannot substitute personal piety for failure to do justice; or claim an institutional purity which silences those who wish to be candid and honest in seeking to be faithful and true to God and themselves. We must accept the grace to work for the unity that empowers us for mission. It is the Gospel to which we are called, not to religion.
My expectations and hope for myself and the church in my service as Moderator:
- Serving together with all to be faithful and energetic in meeting with all, listening carefully to all, and praying with all for the peace, unity, and purity of our church. I will encourage sacred space, a place of safety and togetherness to speak in whole terms that which is on our hearts – our most sincere beliefs and longings.
- Serving together with all to encourage us to move beyond a dutiful toleration and forbearance of our deepest differences, toward a willingness to unite in love around those things which are essential and precious to us all – even our life and commitment to Jesus and the deep desire we share for authoritative evangelism and world-transforming mission.
- Serving together with all to challenge our ways of being a church, emphasizing the need for candid, authentic, and sincere building of relationships and seeking communion among us as a people.
- Serving together with all to challenge us to put all forms, traditions, and ways on the table, and to take what is best and meaningful as the basis of for new ways of being church and doing mission.
If I am elected Moderator, this is how I envision the church to be different at the end of two years:
More diverse: particularly extending the boundaries of our community to be more inclusive of persons who struggle at the margins of society: persons who have experienced homelessness, persons struggling to survive on low-incomes, those who are dispossessed or alienated from church and society.
More unified in being missional: extending the boundaries of what we mean by "parish" and "community" - focusing on creative and energizing mission, redemptive service that makes a difference in the lives of persons who are hurting, commitment to a more just society in economics, environment, social dignity, and equality of rights - including the right to housing, education, healthcare, and the right to live with dignity by one's own means.
More committed to creative mission, based on justice: mission that brings the gospel and the power alive in a mutuality of service. One that includes those being served in service, and gives to all equally the power to be givers as well as receivers. Mission that is focused on building community and relationships, not simply providing goods and services. Mission that transforms the church as well as the lives of all persons involved.
More radical in its message: moving forward to our roots - to the person of Jesus, the power of the Gospel, and our unity in these.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
The young evangelists
Nazareth College spring-break mission trip left yesterday... they were with us for holy week, 15 strong. I was so moved by their spirit and faith: they spend a week of their long awaited vacation time to bunk in our community building, make appointments for showers, and work hard with the toughest jobs we have. This year they refurbished the women’s dormitory at Clairvaux Farm, spring-cleaned the donation barn, served lunch at community kitchen, landscaped and painted.
Yet the most remarkable care they accomplished was not the grungy work, but the relationships they took time to build and the communion they made possible among us last week. I think of....
- Steve carrying 4-year-old Noah on his shoulders, and patiently listening to his excited stories about Ninja Turtles... and Noah declaring proudly to everyone that “me and Steve are buddies.” It means a lot to a kid struggling with homelessness, needing a dad and being the man of the family...
- Robin struggling to find a path to conversation with Jimmy – living in the woods, angry, aggressive, and raw – taking advantage of a small bit of friendliness to unload his fear and loneliness...
- Danielle, Kate, Laura, and others carefully decorating an Easter cake as the centerpiece of a party for the families... intentional joy, sharing the hope and optimism of their faith in the details of their task... and what a great party it was!
- Todd in quiet and earnest conversation with Patience at the dinner table: finding life experiences in common, though worlds apart in their stations in life and opportunity available for their futures...
I once heard about a test for the effectiveness of our evangelism, as follows: Are the people you seek to reach happy to see you come, and sad to see you leave?
Our farewell to the young evangelists from Nazareth College was warm and tearful, yet beneath the sadness, a joyfulness even in saying good-bye. It was the same for everyone, homeless and housed, young and old.
What Gospel message?, one may ask.... sounds like a week of good deeds, however commendable...
On the contrary. It was Holy Week. They left us with certainty of an absolute truth: Jesus lives. He was with and among us every day. And we all think that and know that, even the non-religious folk in our community, usually tough and cynical. The eloquence of the Nazareth College young people told the good news of the man from Nazareth amazingly well.
Yet the most remarkable care they accomplished was not the grungy work, but the relationships they took time to build and the communion they made possible among us last week. I think of....
- Steve carrying 4-year-old Noah on his shoulders, and patiently listening to his excited stories about Ninja Turtles... and Noah declaring proudly to everyone that “me and Steve are buddies.” It means a lot to a kid struggling with homelessness, needing a dad and being the man of the family...
- Robin struggling to find a path to conversation with Jimmy – living in the woods, angry, aggressive, and raw – taking advantage of a small bit of friendliness to unload his fear and loneliness...
- Danielle, Kate, Laura, and others carefully decorating an Easter cake as the centerpiece of a party for the families... intentional joy, sharing the hope and optimism of their faith in the details of their task... and what a great party it was!
- Todd in quiet and earnest conversation with Patience at the dinner table: finding life experiences in common, though worlds apart in their stations in life and opportunity available for their futures...
I once heard about a test for the effectiveness of our evangelism, as follows: Are the people you seek to reach happy to see you come, and sad to see you leave?
Our farewell to the young evangelists from Nazareth College was warm and tearful, yet beneath the sadness, a joyfulness even in saying good-bye. It was the same for everyone, homeless and housed, young and old.
What Gospel message?, one may ask.... sounds like a week of good deeds, however commendable...
On the contrary. It was Holy Week. They left us with certainty of an absolute truth: Jesus lives. He was with and among us every day. And we all think that and know that, even the non-religious folk in our community, usually tough and cynical. The eloquence of the Nazareth College young people told the good news of the man from Nazareth amazingly well.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
The urgency of our mission
The following day, I visit a soup kitchen where more than 200 people, about two thirds of whom are children, come to eat four times a week. The mothers of the children seem competitive, and almost frantic, to make sure their children get their share. A child I meet, a five-year-old boy named Emmanuel, tells me he's "in kiddie garden." His mother says he hasn't started yet. "He starts next year."
"You have to remember," says one of the priests with whom I share my thoughts about these meetings, "that for this little boy whom you have met, his life is just as important, to him, as your life is to you. No matter how insufficient or how shabby it may seem to some, it is the only one he has"-an obvious statement that upsets me deeply nonetheless.
- Jonathan Kozol, Amazing Grace
Then the master told his servant, 'Go out to the roads and country lanes and make them come in, so that my house will be full.’ - Luke 14:23
I think about the eagerness of the children of our community to join a prayer circle. Whether it is before a meal, or at the end of a meeting, as soon as the circle begins to form the kids are in it with enthusiasm. More often than not, they are the ones who lead in prayer. This fellowship, everyone holding hands together, is a powerful symbol of the Gospel.
I have been grappling with defining a short theme which will summarize my reason for standing for Moderator of the 218th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). The most suggested, and the one which has been our core at Meeting Ground for years, is: “the table. ” “There is always room for one more at our table.” The symbol, of course, is the table itself – but the meaning is best expressed in the symbolism of “room.”
How often this is a figure of Jesus’ own ministry. Synonymous with the story of his birth is the phrase “no room” at the inn. His most powerful parable, the Good Samaritan, is the simple story of a social outcast who purchased room in an inn to help a wounded traveler. Most frequently, is the space Jesus made in his life, heart, and in his relationships for everyone – persons of all social standing, but particularly those who were hurt, outcast, desperate, and alienated. Jesus employed the use of the space of his life, room in his heart, as the most powerful symbol of his own mission. If it was his, then it must be ours.
Among the powerful examples, the great banquet is literally the story of a table at which there is room due to guests not showing up. The emphasis is on filling the empty seats, and final command is that the room be utilized by combing highways, byways, and hedges for those considered least worthy and welcome so that “the house may be full.” It is interesting how Jesus moves from filling a table to filling a house.
My long ministry with Meeting Ground has taught me a lot. Two things stand out above everything, however. The gospels come alive, I think because so many of the persons and relationships experienced in mission activity are so similar to those we read in the gospels. There is the clear realization that mission is not so much a program, but people – ourselves, our faith in life, and our relationships with others.
Yet, the parable also implies urgency. The table must be filled, and the command to do it is clear and unequivocal. The persons of our community at Meeting Ground often face life threatening situations, but the urgency is also about a quiet, loud cry to recognize the importance, the deep significance of their life.
"You have to remember," says one of the priests with whom I share my thoughts about these meetings, "that for this little boy whom you have met, his life is just as important, to him, as your life is to you. No matter how insufficient or how shabby it may seem to some, it is the only one he has"-an obvious statement that upsets me deeply nonetheless.
- Jonathan Kozol, Amazing Grace
Then the master told his servant, 'Go out to the roads and country lanes and make them come in, so that my house will be full.’ - Luke 14:23
I think about the eagerness of the children of our community to join a prayer circle. Whether it is before a meal, or at the end of a meeting, as soon as the circle begins to form the kids are in it with enthusiasm. More often than not, they are the ones who lead in prayer. This fellowship, everyone holding hands together, is a powerful symbol of the Gospel.
I have been grappling with defining a short theme which will summarize my reason for standing for Moderator of the 218th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). The most suggested, and the one which has been our core at Meeting Ground for years, is: “the table. ” “There is always room for one more at our table.” The symbol, of course, is the table itself – but the meaning is best expressed in the symbolism of “room.”
How often this is a figure of Jesus’ own ministry. Synonymous with the story of his birth is the phrase “no room” at the inn. His most powerful parable, the Good Samaritan, is the simple story of a social outcast who purchased room in an inn to help a wounded traveler. Most frequently, is the space Jesus made in his life, heart, and in his relationships for everyone – persons of all social standing, but particularly those who were hurt, outcast, desperate, and alienated. Jesus employed the use of the space of his life, room in his heart, as the most powerful symbol of his own mission. If it was his, then it must be ours.
Among the powerful examples, the great banquet is literally the story of a table at which there is room due to guests not showing up. The emphasis is on filling the empty seats, and final command is that the room be utilized by combing highways, byways, and hedges for those considered least worthy and welcome so that “the house may be full.” It is interesting how Jesus moves from filling a table to filling a house.
My long ministry with Meeting Ground has taught me a lot. Two things stand out above everything, however. The gospels come alive, I think because so many of the persons and relationships experienced in mission activity are so similar to those we read in the gospels. There is the clear realization that mission is not so much a program, but people – ourselves, our faith in life, and our relationships with others.
Yet, the parable also implies urgency. The table must be filled, and the command to do it is clear and unequivocal. The persons of our community at Meeting Ground often face life threatening situations, but the urgency is also about a quiet, loud cry to recognize the importance, the deep significance of their life.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
How an eleven-year-old brought us together in the power of the Spirit
Before we eat dinner in the Winter Emergency Shelter, it is our custom to form a circle and say grace. Relying on the Lord to bring us together, we always ask for a volunteer, and this always contributes to the warmness in our welcome of one another.
On this night we were gathered in a circle and the invitation was extended – an eleven-year-old girl in the shelter with her family offered to pray. She spoke loudly and vibrantly, not in church-words but in the most sincere conversational language, “Thanks God that we have a place to sleep and that we have some food to eat, and for the nice people here, and that’s about all I can think of to say... I’ll say good-bye for now, but I’ll be talking to you later before I go to sleep.”
It was the tone, the sincerity, the plain honesty of a young girl who conversed with God as if it were the very hand she held next to her. We probably had a half a dozen denominations represented in the room at that time, and some strong theological differences as well, but as we looked up from the prayer there were few dry eyes. This child had literally taken us by the hand into heaven to a place where God is. In that moment we shared a common understanding that we were being loved. It felt good. But more than anything, it made us experience one another in the vulnerability what it is to be human, and if only for a brief moment, to understand our unity not through common opinion, but through the fragile and tender nature that we share together, so powerful in its claim upon our hearts and so infinite in its possibilities to turn our world upside down.
On this night we were gathered in a circle and the invitation was extended – an eleven-year-old girl in the shelter with her family offered to pray. She spoke loudly and vibrantly, not in church-words but in the most sincere conversational language, “Thanks God that we have a place to sleep and that we have some food to eat, and for the nice people here, and that’s about all I can think of to say... I’ll say good-bye for now, but I’ll be talking to you later before I go to sleep.”
It was the tone, the sincerity, the plain honesty of a young girl who conversed with God as if it were the very hand she held next to her. We probably had a half a dozen denominations represented in the room at that time, and some strong theological differences as well, but as we looked up from the prayer there were few dry eyes. This child had literally taken us by the hand into heaven to a place where God is. In that moment we shared a common understanding that we were being loved. It felt good. But more than anything, it made us experience one another in the vulnerability what it is to be human, and if only for a brief moment, to understand our unity not through common opinion, but through the fragile and tender nature that we share together, so powerful in its claim upon our hearts and so infinite in its possibilities to turn our world upside down.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
One love
Last night we spent several hours trying to help two young teenage girls who are homeless with their family. The chaos, fear, and deep hurt of homelessness have finally become too much for them. The family is getting all kinds of counseling, but the constant dialogue and reminders of their devastating situation only seemed to increase the tension. Last night their anxiety reached a peak and they couldn’t calm down.
They were crying for the protection of their father – if their father only knew what kind of situation they were in, he would stand up for them and take care of them. Nothing could be further from the truth. It’s their father’s irresponsibility, drug use, and angry violence that put the family in their present need. He actually lives nearby, but takes no interest in his kids. Paradoxically, it is the church volunteers who are providing the shelter, their counselors, and even their mother who are the enemy – the ones from who they are trying so desperately to escape. A little love, real help, sometimes gives permission for all the repressed emotion to break loose, and I suppose it’s true that when we begin to feel safe, we may hurt the ones closest to us.
I knew I couldn’t relate to them as a minister, sensing deep down that approach would only make matters worse. I had to relate to them as another person, a human being, beyond the barriers of generation and life experience that separate us, to somehow connect with them in an expression of real relationship and genuine caring. Approaching them at this level, in simple friendship, calling them by name and listening to them - we could feel the Spirit moving and working among us.
As we talked, I found myself genuinely moved and identifying from my own childhood with their pain and fear. The reality was that it brought tears to all our eyes. I could identify profoundly with their feeling of abandonment.
Once again, as many times as I have neglected this lesson, I am reminded that the heart of our religion is love. Our deepest desire, really the only one that matters, is that we know that we are loved – deeply, securely, unconditionally, and profoundly. Just as important, to know that our love matters to other people, and that our power to express love is accepted, welcomed, and creates happiness and hope.
Once again I’m reminded how equal we are, young and old, homeless and housed, whatever the differences that separate us as persons in this world, and that it is such a rare experience to grasp the depth of that reality. None of us can ever truly realize it in this life how greatly we are loved, and how beautiful and life-changing that ineffable love can be. If we have that knowledge, we have the fullness of our religion and of life itself. Without that knowledge, there is really nothing that matters at all. No doctrine, philosophy, discipline, or professional service will substitute.
Maybe I’m being too simplistic. The emotions of last night are still strongly with me. Nevertheless, it’s how I feel – today, just as through the rest of my life.
They were crying for the protection of their father – if their father only knew what kind of situation they were in, he would stand up for them and take care of them. Nothing could be further from the truth. It’s their father’s irresponsibility, drug use, and angry violence that put the family in their present need. He actually lives nearby, but takes no interest in his kids. Paradoxically, it is the church volunteers who are providing the shelter, their counselors, and even their mother who are the enemy – the ones from who they are trying so desperately to escape. A little love, real help, sometimes gives permission for all the repressed emotion to break loose, and I suppose it’s true that when we begin to feel safe, we may hurt the ones closest to us.
I knew I couldn’t relate to them as a minister, sensing deep down that approach would only make matters worse. I had to relate to them as another person, a human being, beyond the barriers of generation and life experience that separate us, to somehow connect with them in an expression of real relationship and genuine caring. Approaching them at this level, in simple friendship, calling them by name and listening to them - we could feel the Spirit moving and working among us.
As we talked, I found myself genuinely moved and identifying from my own childhood with their pain and fear. The reality was that it brought tears to all our eyes. I could identify profoundly with their feeling of abandonment.
Once again, as many times as I have neglected this lesson, I am reminded that the heart of our religion is love. Our deepest desire, really the only one that matters, is that we know that we are loved – deeply, securely, unconditionally, and profoundly. Just as important, to know that our love matters to other people, and that our power to express love is accepted, welcomed, and creates happiness and hope.
Once again I’m reminded how equal we are, young and old, homeless and housed, whatever the differences that separate us as persons in this world, and that it is such a rare experience to grasp the depth of that reality. None of us can ever truly realize it in this life how greatly we are loved, and how beautiful and life-changing that ineffable love can be. If we have that knowledge, we have the fullness of our religion and of life itself. Without that knowledge, there is really nothing that matters at all. No doctrine, philosophy, discipline, or professional service will substitute.
Maybe I’m being too simplistic. The emotions of last night are still strongly with me. Nevertheless, it’s how I feel – today, just as through the rest of my life.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Mission as Jesus saw it
For so dearly has God loved the world, that it has become our parish....
Yesterday I attended the first meeting of a “collaborative” of community leaders and citizens to look at the growing homelessness crisis here and brainstorm broad community solutions. I wish I could say that it was spirit of compassion that brought the group together but it was a response to the growing outcry of the churches, partnering with persons experiencing homelessness, that action be taken. Volunteers from churches number in the hundreds, and the building of community and mission inspires a thirst for community justice and social change. The artificial divide between “gospel” and “social action” breaks down rapidly and a larger discussion is encouraged – what to do when our neighbors are in trouble and the community is hurting?
One of the best results of mission activity is the elimination of the us-them world view. Doing mission brings fresh understanding to the Gospels which are full of stories of Jesus breaking custom, crossing barriers, ignoring prejudice and stereotype, and bridging the great gap of social and religious divide. How powerful are the Gospel stories of Samaritans, strangers, gentiles and other religions, Romans, homeless and other desperately poor, tax collectors, prostitutes, moral outcasts, all brought together in the presence of Jesus... often under withering criticism... all accepted for who they are and raised to new heights of their humanity by being loved unconditionally.. We are so used to hearing the story, have so romanticized the revolutionary message and not given our best energy to making Jesus the center of mission ... we can so easily miss the power of this radical (back to our roots) world-changing ministry of simple neighborhood, a parish in which all are welcome. The church has yet to plummet the full depth of what Jesus is teaching us.
Remarkably at the end of our “collaborative” meeting, clearly secular, was the request by church participants that we close with a prayer. It was not the formal kind of invocation or benediction, but a spontaneous response to a request at which everyone stood and we could feel the common desire to move to something higher. I know the struggle is ongoing and such a spirit of collaboration and unity can evaporate pretty fast – real change intends to come slowly in increments over time – but it is still a dazzling thing to witness the power of the Gospel shared in the community through the committed lives of persons of faith and faith communities. Powerful stuff when unleashed! Most memoralbe, when the chief of police was leaving he turned to me to comment, “I’m very glad for this meeting. Most people think law enforcement is the answer to the homeless problem, and I don’t know how to convince them that this isn’t true. A gathering like this is what we really need...” Maybe the secret is getting out: Jesus lives!
Yesterday I attended the first meeting of a “collaborative” of community leaders and citizens to look at the growing homelessness crisis here and brainstorm broad community solutions. I wish I could say that it was spirit of compassion that brought the group together but it was a response to the growing outcry of the churches, partnering with persons experiencing homelessness, that action be taken. Volunteers from churches number in the hundreds, and the building of community and mission inspires a thirst for community justice and social change. The artificial divide between “gospel” and “social action” breaks down rapidly and a larger discussion is encouraged – what to do when our neighbors are in trouble and the community is hurting?
One of the best results of mission activity is the elimination of the us-them world view. Doing mission brings fresh understanding to the Gospels which are full of stories of Jesus breaking custom, crossing barriers, ignoring prejudice and stereotype, and bridging the great gap of social and religious divide. How powerful are the Gospel stories of Samaritans, strangers, gentiles and other religions, Romans, homeless and other desperately poor, tax collectors, prostitutes, moral outcasts, all brought together in the presence of Jesus... often under withering criticism... all accepted for who they are and raised to new heights of their humanity by being loved unconditionally.. We are so used to hearing the story, have so romanticized the revolutionary message and not given our best energy to making Jesus the center of mission ... we can so easily miss the power of this radical (back to our roots) world-changing ministry of simple neighborhood, a parish in which all are welcome. The church has yet to plummet the full depth of what Jesus is teaching us.
Remarkably at the end of our “collaborative” meeting, clearly secular, was the request by church participants that we close with a prayer. It was not the formal kind of invocation or benediction, but a spontaneous response to a request at which everyone stood and we could feel the common desire to move to something higher. I know the struggle is ongoing and such a spirit of collaboration and unity can evaporate pretty fast – real change intends to come slowly in increments over time – but it is still a dazzling thing to witness the power of the Gospel shared in the community through the committed lives of persons of faith and faith communities. Powerful stuff when unleashed! Most memoralbe, when the chief of police was leaving he turned to me to comment, “I’m very glad for this meeting. Most people think law enforcement is the answer to the homeless problem, and I don’t know how to convince them that this isn’t true. A gathering like this is what we really need...” Maybe the secret is getting out: Jesus lives!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Cold night
This afternoon I went to Randy's funeral... a young homeless man who hung himself in the woods in Elkton, because, it's being said, "he was tired of being cold." The minister prayed for the homeless, but even better the church will open it's doors next month as a partner in the rotating shelter. What could he say about this tragedy... what can I or anyone say, except to echo Randy's cry... "we're tired of begging, pleading, demanding... in the midst of such affluence."
I just got back from the rotating shelter, it's cold outside, a damp cold, and late. The Baptists are staffing it in the Assembly of God church. The Presbyterians staffed it last week. There were over 40 people again in a shelter designed for 20... and 6 kids. As long as I have done this work, I can never get used to seeing the kids in our shelters. Two folks tonight are deaf, and several others mentally ill.
A young mother told me her child had a birthday yesterday, one year old. I asked her what they did to celebrate... "went to McDonald's... until they asked us to leave, then went and sat in the hospital for a while, then over to the men's shelter for lunch and the women's shelter to wait for the church van..." So his first birthday and he walked the cold streets with his parents.
It's on a night like this that I feel the call in this moderator stand. Maybe we can say some things that will make a difference... over the next 4+ months. I can only ask God to give us the chance to speak for these, the least among us... but perhaps closest to our Lord, who also walks the streets tonight and whose head rests with theirs on a pillow in the shelters....
I just got back from the rotating shelter, it's cold outside, a damp cold, and late. The Baptists are staffing it in the Assembly of God church. The Presbyterians staffed it last week. There were over 40 people again in a shelter designed for 20... and 6 kids. As long as I have done this work, I can never get used to seeing the kids in our shelters. Two folks tonight are deaf, and several others mentally ill.
A young mother told me her child had a birthday yesterday, one year old. I asked her what they did to celebrate... "went to McDonald's... until they asked us to leave, then went and sat in the hospital for a while, then over to the men's shelter for lunch and the women's shelter to wait for the church van..." So his first birthday and he walked the cold streets with his parents.
It's on a night like this that I feel the call in this moderator stand. Maybe we can say some things that will make a difference... over the next 4+ months. I can only ask God to give us the chance to speak for these, the least among us... but perhaps closest to our Lord, who also walks the streets tonight and whose head rests with theirs on a pillow in the shelters....
Standing for GA Moderator
The call of my life, and my reason for entering the ministry, is with and among persons who are experiencing homelessness or otherwise struggling to survive at the margins of our society. Since 1981 my call as a minister has been to the community of Meeting Ground, which I helped to found, and to creating partnership and community between the persons of my parish and the organized church. Meeting Ground is a community of faith and a refuge for persons and families experiencing homelessness. In 26 years several hundred Presbyterian churches, and thousands of mission volunteers, seminarians, interns, and others have been part of our community and ministry. New forms for mission and evangelism continue to evolve from the Meeting Ground community, most recently a broad coalition of faith communities of diverse theological viewpoints who have come together in mutual ministry to create redeeming community with and among folks who have been homeless for many years. Meeting Ground has been a valid mission cause of New Castle Presbytery since 1983, strongly supported by the Presbytery and by others from many parts of the country.
My desire to stand for Moderator is based on my love for the church which has done so much for me. I was not raised Presbyterian, but when I was a very lost young person, it was a group of Presbyterians who befriended me. They brought the church to me where I was; I was introduced to Jesus and my life was forever new. To him, and to this Church I owe a debt of love I can never fully repay, but in standing for moderator I can offer to the denomination a different viewpoint from the perspective of my quarter century of unique ministry. I want to encourage the kind of radical, energetic dialogue that we need – not just for ourselves, but for a world that needs us to have it. For the church I see a growing desire for mission, a yearning for faith in action, centered in the Gospel, with the power to transform lives, society, and our church.
This dialogue may begin around what we mean by “parish.” We need to direct resources and opportunity for creative new understanding of “church” and “mission,” extending the boundaries of our imagination. The province of the Gospel is not the church, but the world – particularly with the persons at its margins, as the Bible teaches – and the call of the church is to continually create new forms of parish in the world – based not on confined and arbitrary structures but the needs and realities of relationships. We may or may not be guided by tradition in our visioning, but we can’t be bound by it. It is the human community itself that is indeed our parish, and for the church to save its life in our time, it must lose it.
The church in the world only truly exists as gathering in which Jesus is known and present. I dream of radical transformation, not so much of structures and procedures, but of heart and loving relationships. I dream that our passion may be for mission, newly understood as that by which grace commends to all – in Jesus Christ we are released from that which divides, labels, and diminishes us as persons and all welcomed into a sacred space in which we are one, together and dearly loved. I dream that we may give ourselves permission for relationships and conversation of which the world will be dazzled: to be honest and plain – speaking openly of who we are without fear, to share our troubles without shame, along with our passionate hopes and truest desires.
Above all that we may be known by our need to love and to be loved. And that we may have the humility to admit that none among us has yet fully begun to grasp the depth of that by and in which we have been loved by God. I dream that our Gospel will be proclaimed by the courage of our doing, by our risk-taking for justice, and by uncommon generosity in relationships with all – that Jesus is alive, with and among us, with all power to redeem.
My eyes were freshly opened to this on a day last winter in a church basement that had been turned into an emergency homeless shelter. An older woman arrived with nothing more than the clothes on her back. Bent over and sullen, she was bewildered, ragged, sick, and withdrawn. She had been “shipped” in a taxi from a church 70 miles away. She needed us.
Shelter volunteers befriended her and did what they could to help, including getting her into a hospital for emergency treatment. When she returned, I went over to greet her and reached out to shake her hand, but she instead flung out her arms and bear-hugged me with gusto. Even though quiet-natured, she talked and smiled broadly, making eye-contact with excited energy... like a kid happy to be home.
She was sharing the grandeur of redemption. The small attentions of kind people, words of care and light, loving touch – even the simple assurance of shelter in a church hallway – had moved her deeply, and she found hope alive again. In the warmth of her smile and grateful embrace she spoke all this reassuringly to me as if I were the one in need, as indeed I was. We needed her.
Together we were church -- confirmed through the beauty of a living sanctuary of gathered souls, and the understanding of God’s presence, pressed dearly in human relationship, revealed in almighty power -- though we were 2, 3, or 20 gathered, in our midst.
I am a graduate of Moody Bible Institute, Nyack College, and Princeton Seminary, ordained by Hudson River Presbytery in 1978, and have ministered in Hudson River, Southern New England and New Castle Presbyteries. Marsha, my wife of 34 years, is a partner in my present ministry of Meeting Ground. We have two daughters, Alessandra and Kristen.
To learn more: www.meetingground.org
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