Putting yourself in the presence of God

By Karen DeWeese

The chicken or the egg?

The chicken or the egg?

The chicken or the egg?

There is an often heard old question that goes: Which came first? The chicken or the egg? The question is posed when we are confronted with a situation which calls for the determination of the causality or order of occurrence of two events or situations. So our question for today is: Which comes first? Being in God’s presence which prompts us to pray or praying and then feeling we are in God’s presence.

And what sorts of things will elicit the feelings of God’s presence? One would hope glorious music or stained glass or a lofty sermon. However equally moving can be an awesome sunrise, or a mountain’s grandeur, or even more mundane things that cross our paths in our everyday life : the smell of a fresh baked loaf of bread, a tiny, furry kitten, a pile of colorful fall leaves. In a novel by Jennifer Chiaverini, titled THE ALOHA QUILT, the main character, Bonnie, is having her first taste of taro. Her hostess says“ they’re delicious, a bit like sweet potatoes. “. Bonnie takes a small serving and samples a small bite. She wondered if she would be able to find taro in a grocery store back in Pennsylvania. She had never noticed them before but she had not been looking for them. A lot about life had escaped her notice because she had not been looking. In AN ALTAR IN THE WORLD, Barbara Brown Taylor says , “Prayer is waking up to the presence of God no matter where I am or what I am doing. When I am fully alert to whatever or whoever is right in front of me; when I am electrically aware of the tremendous gift of being alive; when I am able to give myself wholly to the moment I am in, then I am in prayer. Prayer is happening and it is not necessarily something that I am doing, God is happening, and I am lucky enough to know that I am in THE MIDST.” At those moments it is not only as if we were suddenly perceiving something in reality we had not perceived before, but as if ourselves were being perceived. Prayer is more than my idea of prayer and some of what I actually do in my life may constitute genuine prayer.

Whether intentional, or simply by being in THE MOMENT, there are different prayers that are appropriate for the different times and stages in our lives. There is a prayer which I am certain we have all heard or perhaps even prayed as a child or taught to our children or grandchildren. I learned this, literally, at the knees of my grandmother. When we would stay with her in the summertime, at night before going to bed, we would kneel beside the bed and pray,: Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

This was followed by bless mommy and daddy and grandma and grandpa and the list went on and on as long as we could think of people that we wanted God to bless, though I suspect it was the more people we could name for God to bless, the longer we would avoid the inevitability of having to go to bed: especially difficult during the summer when it was still light out.

There is a newer version of this children’s prayer:

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

May God guard me through the night

And wake me with the morning light.

I suspect this newer version is in wider usage because it is considered less scary though I don’t think it has adversely affected the many of us who grew up on the older version.

As we grew a little older, prayers were learned in Sunday school, or a prayer thanking God for our daily food was prayed at the dinner table. Here at Shell Ridge, prayer and learning about the presence of God is an integral part of the Logos program for our children on Wednesday evenings.

Likewise, prayers and reverence to God are an important part of the scouting program. In Boy Scouts, one of the favorite prayers at mealtimes is called the Philmont Grace: named after the scouting ranch in New Mexico by that name.

For food, for raiment

For life, for opportunity

For friendship and fellowship

We thank thee, O Lord.

And lest we think that in a preteen’s mind prayers are only for meals, there is a very popular book by Judy Blume, published in 1970 titled ARE YOU THERE GOD? IT’S ME, MARGARET. Margaret, an 11 year old, has grown up in a non-religious home claiming to be non religious herself. She does not doubt nor question God’s presence but is innately aware of his existence and presence. She calls on God on a regular basis with the typical worries and concerns of a pre-teen girl. She is in the 6^th grade and her family has recently relocated to New Jersey. She wants to fit in with her new contemporaries and talks to God about her new community and school. Throughout is a theme of asking God to let her be and develop normally for her age. Another theme that runs throughout is the conflict and choice of a religion. Raised with no religious training as her mother is Christian and her father is Jewish, they have left it up to her to decide when she is “older”. With family conflicts that erupt, she prays and wishes that she’d been born one or the other. Even amidst her struggles, she is constantly aware of God’s presence and grateful for all she has been given.

As we grow into adulthood, we become more aware of God’s presence as we explore the outdoor world of nature and all its wonders. Close your eyes for a minute and imagine you are sitting in the most beautiful or your most favorite out of doors spot. Now, listen to these words and envision the presence of God:

God of grave nights,

God of brave mornings,

God of silent noon,

Hear my salutation!

For where the rapids rage white and scornful,

I have passed safely, filled with wonder,

Where the sweet ponds dream under willows,

I have been swimming, filled with life.

God of round hills,

God of green valleys,

God of clean springs,

Hear my salutation!

Where the moose feeds, I have eaten berries,

Where the moose drinks, I have drunk deep,

When the storm crashed through broken heavens-

And under clear skies- I have known joy.

God of great trees,

God of wild grasses,

God of little flowers,

Hear my salutation!

For where the deer crops and the beaver plunges,

Near the river I have pitched my tent,

Where the pines cast aromatic needles

On a still floor, I have known peace.

God of grave nights,

God of brave mornings,

God of silent moon,

Hear my salutation! Marguerite Wilkinson

We must envision the finished whole from this small segment before us. Isn’t that how we all try to understand the glory of God? We glimpse only the material world, one small facet of His creation and from this alone we attempt to comprehend the eternal world of the spirit.

In the scripture readings today, we are urged to seek his presence continually (Psalm 105: 4) and be constant in prayer. Joy and perseverance grow out of the wresting and being rooted in and growing from prayer. Prayer is of crucial significance in a relationship with God from the transformed life. In prayer we must be persistent. We must ask for a response and expect that God will respond in a way above and beyond our human experience with one another. Our worship life centers, on this notion of prayer. Ask and it will be given to you. Search and you will find. If this is our way, we had better be confident that we believe this. The answers to life’s difficult questions come in the context of a community that is willing to stake its life on the belief that prayers are answered and that God does respond to human need and suffering. It means to let God have access to our own hands and feet when they’re needed.

Our worship life centers on this notion of prayer. The Lord’s Prayer is said in almost every house of Christian worship, every Sunday, all across our land. In each of these places worshippers believe that God will bring a kingdom that is peaceful, God will provide for our daily food, God will forgive our unbelief and God will shield us from trials that we can’t handle. Despite the diversity in our traditions and practices, this simple little prayer may be our most basic common denominator. Prayer isn’t for dummies. It’s for the faithful, who given power by the Spirit, and supported by their faith community, are willing to stake our lives on the belief that God will open the door when we knock.

Faithful prayer is habitual prayer, prayer that does not only occur during a crisis and does not end when a crisis is resolved. Faithful prayer is part and parcel of an ongoing relationship, a lifelong conversation, a prolonged attempt not to control God but to discern God’s presence and activity in all that befalls us- the good and the bad, the desired and the undesirable. Faithful prayer is first of all about finding and placing ourselves in God’s story, and God’s story is about the redemption of the world. My prayers are too small if they focus on me, though it is important that our prayers are about our personal, individual needs and desires. Faithful prayer certainly may ask for healing, but it does not ask only for healing. It seeks wisdom to see how Christ is reflected in circumstances- and not just a triumphal Christ but a suffering Christ, a Christ who underwent pain and want before he attained glory. Faithful prayer asks not merely for healing but for patience and discernment and continuing faithfulness. Faithful prayer is work and not always immediately satisfying. God give me- God give us- the strength continue in the work of true prayer, the very work for which we were made.

Intercessory prayer is intertwined with and the heartbeat of the Christian community. It is the way Christians consciously bring others into God’s presence along with themselves. In prayer we see others as creatures loved by God and in need of God’s grace. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it, in intercessory prayer one sees other people “in all their need, hardship and distress” and grants them the “same right we have received, namely, the right to stand before Christ and to share in Christ’s mercy.” In prayer, we put others in God’s hands. He continues,” I can no longer condemn or hate other Christians for whom I pray, no matter how much trouble they cause me. In intercessory prayer the face that may have been strange and intolerable to me is transformed into the face of one for whom Christ died.” Prayer does work- on the individuals and communities who pray.

Barbara Brown Taylor poses the question, “ Is it right for me to ask God for particular outcomes, when God alone knows what is right? Isn’t the point of prayers to sharpen my hearing, not God’s? Are words necessary at all? Is emptying the mind of all thought a surer path to God than trying to turn my thoughts to God? ““Most of the people I know hunger for some evidence that God hears their prayers. Plenty of them would settle for a divine “no” as long as it were a clear one. I once had a pastor who said that God answers prayer sin four ways: Yes, NO, Wait and “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Often we imagine and would like to think of a particular happening as an answer to prayer. When I was discerning my call to ministry, I had college prerequisites to be met before I could finish my bachelor’s program. One was passing the Junior English Placement Examination. As I drove home from the seminary one evening after a get acquainted meeting of the Conference on Ministry, I prayed that if I was meant to enter seminary and study for the ministry, that I would receive a passing grade on the exam as an indication that I was on the right path. When I arrived home, I found in the days mail, the card from San Francisco State that indicated I had received a passing grade. In a passage in Taylor’s book, she relates the following. I tell God what want. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to do anything else, and besides, there’s no time. So I tell God what I want and I trust God to sort it out. “The next day I returned to the seminary to continue the conference. During the lunch hour I was sitting and talking with the student body president. Suddenly I literally felt someone rap me on the head and I heard the words spoken in my ear, “You’ve come home, this is where you belong.” Talk about God’s presence and an answer to prayer!

In some of Taylor’s closing words she says,“ There are real things I can do, both in my body and in my mind, to put myself in the presence of God. God is not obliged to show up, but if God does, then I will be ready. At the same time, I am aware that prayer is more than something I do. The longer I practice prayer, the more I think it is something that is always happening, like a radio wave that carries music through the air whether I tune in to it or not. “

By opening ourselves to be willing to pray, we are giving ourselves the freedom to experience the presence of God. To be in the presence of God encourages and empowers us to pray. Prayer and presence go hand in hand and are very closely inseparable. Amen

Digging in the Ground of Being

by Sandy Mitchell

How about that for timing? During the week that we are reading the chapter of "An Altar in the World" that deals with physical labor, a new poet laureate of the US was named--Philip Levine. One of his most popular books of poetry is titled "What Work Is." Another of his books of poetry is #110 on Amazon's best seller list---a rare occurrence for a book of poetry. To be honest, I had never heard of him before, but I am fascinated by his background. He was born and educated in Detroit and worked in auto factories. At the time he hated physical labor, but then he realized that his work in the factories enabled him to read and write poetry, which is what he did during his off hours. The quote on the back of the bulletin lets us know how he feels about physical labor. I have always been in awe of people who have physical skills that are a mystery to me.

So as I looked at this week's chapter of Barbara Brown Taylor's book, I particularly loved the section about digging potatoes that Doug read for us. Chapter by chapter she shares with us how she learned to encounter God far beyond the walls of the church. In a nutshell (reading from the book flap) "she is teaching us to discover the sacred in the small things we do and see from simple practices such as walking, working, and prayer. Something as simple as hanging clothes on a clothesline becomes an act of meditation if we pay attention to what we are doing and take time to notice the sights, smells, and sounds around us. Making eye contact with the cashier at the grocer store becomes a moment of true human connection. Allowing yourself to get lost leads to new discoveries (I really liked that chapter----that's what our family loves to do). As we incorporate these practices into our daily lives, we begin to discover altars everywhere we go, in nearly everything we do. Through Taylor's expert guidance and delicate, thought-provoking prose, we learn to live with purpose, pay attention, slowdown, and practice reverence." I love book flaps---they tell so much that sometimes you don't have to read the book!

Now back to today's chapter---I don't dig potatoes, but I love digging and caring for our garden surrrounding our house. My love of gardening came from my grandmother and my dad. When my parents came to visit us each summer, my dad was soon in our backyard seeing what he could pick. Those of you who have lemon trees know that the lemons can stay on the tree for months, thereby allowing a gardener to pick the fruit as needed. Coming from East Texas, my dad was not familiar with that concept. There when the fruit was ripe, you better pick it quickly.

Well, one summer I came home from work to find my dad very proud of the fact that he had harvested every single lemon on the tree! As the old saying goes, when you are given a lemon, make lemonade. By golly, we made lots of lemonade! We ended up squeezing lemons and freezing the juice---that worked too! Instead of going to the lemon tree to pick a lemon, I went to the freezer and got out a cube of lemon juice.

When our grandchildren come to visit, one of the first questions they often ask is, "What can we pick?" As Eliza came in the door on my birthday, she asked, "Can we pick some cherries or some blackberries, Grandmom?"

I will often say to Rick, "I'm going outside for a few minutes." Those minutes usually end up being an extended period of time. It is there that I feel grounded, close to Mother Earth, surrounded by creation.

Recently a praying mantis landed on my forearm. He/she, such a good critter for the garden, just rested there and looked at me---must have been wondering what kind of big plant I was. When I encouraged it to get to work on my plants, it hopped over to my other arm. That praying mantis and I experienced a small "altar in the backyard."

In my stream of consciousness about God and groundedness I thought back to the Dark Ages when I was a college student. A person whose writings were meaningful to me was Paul Tillich, the German-born theologian, who called God the "Ground of Being." The "Ground of Being"----that has stuck with me through all these years and is still helpful to me.

While we were still in college in Texas, Rick and I had the privilege of attending a lecture given by Paul Tillich. Trying to understand him with his heavy German accent was a challenge, but it was an honor to be in his presence.

As I was preparing for today, I decided to learn more about Tlllich's life. I was fascinated to learn that his interest in theology began as a 12 year old when he was sent to boarding school. He was very lonely, and one way he tried to overcome his homesickness was to read the Bible. He eventually earned a doctor of philosophy degree and was ordained as a Lutheran minister. He lectured all over Germany but in 1933 came under fire from Hitler. Soon he was invited to Union Seminary in New York City and moved there with his family.

At age 47 he learned English (this knowledge made me much more tolerant of his strong German accent), and later wrote some of his most important works in English. He taught at Harvard from 1955 to 1962 when he took a position at the University of Chicago. Paul Tillich is considered by many to be one of the few great theologians.

For me personally I am grateful to him for the term "Ground of Being" and for his phrase describing faith as "Ultimate Concern."

The people of Shell Ridge---you---have demonstrated "ultimate concern" to me over the almost 45 years that we have been associated with this congregation. Most recently when I was briefly hospitalized and 3 years ago when I was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. At that time I felt that my world as I had known it was falling apart. Day after day the tears would not stop. I remember sitting in the choir with tears streaming down my cheeks. Later I learned that crying is part of the disease. After all, 80% of the dopamine in my body was gone by the time I was diagnosed. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter that helps control the brain's reward and pleasure centers. It also helps regulate movement and emotional responses. So I was a basket case because of the diagnosis and the lack of dopamine.

But you were there for me with hugs of support, with prayers, with cards, with words of encouragement, with food, and with information about where to turn for a support group---thank you, Carol, Kay, and Dorothy. Most recently you have been there with transportation help.

During the fall after I was diagnosed, the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays with our Ashland and Berkeley kids here to celebrate helped me get me on track. I could not do much in the kitchen except direct Melissa, Sharon, and Jodie. The flood of tears finally slowed down after taking a trip with Kent, Sharon, Devin, and Eliza. It was amazing how a week with 2 precious grandchildren could distract me from my own heartache.

Now I am trying to help others who are facing that devastating diagnosis----I have been there and know how it feels, as many of you know what it is like to receive unwelcome medical news. I am trying to lemonade with the lemons I have been given. Thanks for the "ultimate concern" that you have shown to me and others within this faith community.

Some of you know my last story, but others do not. This chapter of "ultimate concern" began at the pre-school that both Kent and Melissa attended. It was a coop pre-school, and I was one of the moms doing my last scheduled day of being a teacher's helper. The assignment that I was given was a craft project for the kids that involved cutting pieces of yarn for each child. I was sitting in the teacher's spot at a kidney-shaped table like we have in our nursery. For some reason, I was given a serrated knife to cut the pieces of yarn. The children had to wait a few seconds as I cut their pieces.

But there was a little hyperactive boy named Bart, who could not wait, so he quickly moved behind me, picked up the knife, and proceeded to cut his own piece. Unfortunately the tip of the knife blade ended up in my left eye.

I was rushed to the hospital where a specialist examined my eye for one solid hour. At the end of that time, he had me hospitalized in the area closest to the operating room because he wanted as little movement as possible. To that end, he bandaged both of my eyes and instructed me to be as still as possible. Surgery would probably be scheduled for the next day, he said.

Well, it was the worst of timing and the best of timing: the worst of timing because it was the Friday that we were to leave for our all-church retreat, an event that our family loved to attend. Another friend and I were leading the Bible study session, and the text was about Bartimaeus, the blind man healed by Jesus. Now it turns out that I am the blind one.

It was the best of timing because our congregation was together that weekend and upheld me in their prayers and concern. Our pastor, Dale Edmondson, came to the hospital to see me and pray with me on his way to the retreat.

To make a long story short, the next morning the same doctor came back to see me. When he removed the bandages, he was amazed at what he saw. He told me that if he had not performed the initial exam himself, he would not have believed the amount of healing that had occurred.

I was not completely out of the woods----still had to endure 6 weeks of bedrest (not too easy with a 4 year old and a 7 year old), and I was told that I would never be able to wear contact lens again. The bottom line is that I did completely recover, and I can wear a contact.

I know that a modern day miracle occurred that weekend, and the "ultimate concern" of my faith community made a difference.

As we sang in the hymn "Bring Many Names," there are many ways to think of God. A few decades ago I opened a prayer with "Dear Father and Mother of us all.." After the service an elderly friend (hummm...he must have been about my age) stopped me and commented that he had never heard of such a thing----God as Mother. Now I can think of God in so many different ways, but I still hark back to the "Ground of Being" and to the idea of "Ultimate Concern."

For me that is the foundation of my faith, my "digging in the Ground of Being."



Go knowing that God, the "Ground of Being," is always with you----in the work that you do and in your deepest valleys.
Go recognizing the little miracles around you----the praying mantis, the laughter of a child, the touch of another human being.
Go in peace with renewed energy for the week ahead.

School Rules

A Sermon by The Rev. Brian Dixon | August 9, 2009 | Ordinary Time

Scripture: Ephesians 4:25--5:2

We are now 9 days into August. To the dismay of many students and teachers and the joy of many parents school will be starting back very soon. I have a nephew that will be starting kindergarten next week. And with the start of school comes another set of school rules to be learned and obeyed. I trust that many of you still remember some of those school rules that were printed up on a bulletin board. I’m thinking particularly about elementary school, not so much high school where the rules are don’t do drugs, don’t bring weapons on school grounds, or don’t lock Brian in his locker. (Maybe that last one is just me.) School rules in elementary school are almost always in the positive as opposed to the negative. Think back, what are some of those rules or ways to behave? (Give time for folks to respond.)

All of these rules or ways to behave in school are usually pretty simple, simple ways of living with one another. Be Kind. Be Nice. Share. Tell the truth. Hold hands. Making sure that everyone has a safe environment in which to learn. They are ways of living in community. We don’t just teach our kids how to read and write in school, but we also teach them how to live in the world. And at the heart of what we ask our children to be is to be kind. It is simple. Be kind. And it is at the core of what the writer of this letter to the Ephesians is asking that community too. Be kind. I considered just standing up today and saying be kind and then sitting down. It is that easy. But we all know its not. It’s not that easy to be kind otherwise we all would be. Otherwise the writer wouldn’t spend so much time on it. We as adults fail over and over to live up to what we teach our children in Kindergarten. I’m not even sure we value it at all. We believe what Julia said in the 80s and 90s sitcom “Designing Women”--the Dolores Street folks can tell you I quote from this show a lot--she said in response to someone saying “the meek shall inherit the earth...” “Yes but they wont’ keep it for very long.”

Nancy Lamott a cabaret singer who died of ovarian cancer in the mid-90s sang a song that went a little like this:

So many things we can’t control
so many hurts that happen everyday
so many heartaches that pierce the soul
so much pain that will never go away
How do we make it better?
How do we make through? What can we do when there’s nothing we can do?
We can be kind
We can take care of each other
We can remember that deep down inside we all need the same things
And maybe we’ll find
If we are there for each other
That together we’ll weather
Whatever tomorrow may bring
Nobody really wants to fight
Nobody really wants to go to war
If everyone wants to make thing right?
What are we always fighting for?
(Click here for a sample)

We are not kind. We are not nice. Instead most of the time we are self-preserving. And self-preserving and kindness do not always go together. Self-preservation does not help us live in community very well. It does usually help us from getting hurt. Self-preservation also makes sure that we stay on top. It makes sure that we always win, that we are always right, that we always have the most power. But always winning, always being right, always having the most power doesn’t always make us the best neighbors. Our nation’s wars have been about maintaining our status, showing our strength. While at times they may have been cloaked and even on occasion appropriately understood as a protection of our freedoms, they have been a way of staying on top, saying to other people and other nations that we will make our own decisions. Often in direct disregard for the nations and peoples that we are in battle against. Whether necessary or not, war is never nice. War is never kind. Last year I was visiting family in Florida. My 3 year old nephew was in trouble for hitting his sister, and so my sister, his aunt, proceeded to slap his hand all the while saying “William we do not hit.” But apparently we do. We say don’t hit, be nice, be kind, and yet what we do is something else.

Our healthcare debate right now in the country is largely about self-preservation. Everyone thinks quality healthcare for all is a good idea. I even think most people would agree that it’s cost is over-inflated. What people don’t agree on is who should have to pay for it and who should control it. I don’t want anyone telling me who my doctor will be or what medical treatment I should be allowed to have. I want to be able to make my own decisions. And I’m really pretty happy with the medical care I receive now. Those of us who receive quality healthcare and have decent health insurance see no need for reform. But what about the person who has lost her job, his health insurance? The person who can’t afford health insurance at all. The person who would lose a days wages in order to just go to the doctor. What about that person? To which most people say “Well yes that person needs affordable healthcare.” The rub comes when I am asked to help pay for it. Why should I help pay for someone else’s healthcare? Why should taxpayers have to shoulder the cost of the system? Has anyone seen the recent Reese’s peanut butter cups commercials? It shows the two peanut butter cups and then these word’s begin to scroll onto the screen. “Sharing is a nice gesture...stupid but nice.” We tell our children to share, but we aren’t necessarily looking to share as adults. Not if it is going to cost me some of my well earned income.

Now so far this sounds like a pretty good socialist, democratic sermon right. I actually am feeling pretty good about myself. I’m a pacifist, I don’t believe war is ever just. And I do think that as a taxpayer I should shoulder part of the load for better healthcare for all. I think we should have a single taxpayer system. I am nice, I do share, I am kind.

But here are some ways that I can’t be let off the hook. Tell the truth. What the writer of Ephesians says is to speak the truth in love. We tell our children to not tell lies. But sometimes I don’t do that. I am afraid of what the other person will say or do if I tell the truth. They will be mad at me. It will hurt their feelings. To be honest though, me not telling the truth is often about my own fear and less about the well being of the person I am in relationship with. I don’t want to get hurt. My ego might get bruised. Truth telling isn’t about being mean, it isn’t about telling someone yes your butt does look big in those jeans. It isn’t always about being right. It’s about saying words that someone is ready to hear and needs to hear. It is about speaking truth to power, even when it might cost me something, a job, money, security, a relationship. Speaking truth in love is about doing and saying that which builds up and deepens community rather than tears it down. And sometimes I just don’t do this, and sometimes I really like to be right. And I imagine I am not alone in this situation.

We tell our children to hold hands. We sing the hymn

and they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love,
and they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

And yet we aren’t really known by our love are we? We aren’t really known by our Christian unity? Brad Pitt was recently interviewed by Parade magazine. He was asked about his religious beliefs. In the article he talks about being raised by conservative Southern Baptists. He was taught that Christianity was about a list of dos and donts. Don’t go to rock concerts. Don’t drink. Don’t use profanity. He remarked that people try and tell him that Christianity is about more than that, but that he doesn’t really believe them because that is not his experience. Despite our best efforts we don’t always convey a spirit of unity. We don’t hold hands. To be honest, I don’t want to hold hands with Southern Baptists, I don’t want to hold hands with folks who think that who I am and what I believe are wrong. I don’t want to hold hands with Pat Robertson. Because sometimes they are mean.

All of these ways of misbehaving that are listed in the letter to the Ephesians are ways of shoring ourselves up so that we don’t get hurt. Malice, slander, wrangling. They are the armor with which we gird ourselves so that we can escape injury in living. Because when we are kind, when we are generous, when we speak truth in love, when we care about the well-being of the community, we make ourselves vulnerable. And when we are vulnerable there is a real chance that we will be hurt, or that we will hurt someone else. When we love there is a real chance that love will not be offered in return. When I offer my hand to Pat Robertson there is a real chance that it will be rejected or quite possibly bitten. So we suit up, we put on an armor to protect our fragile bodies and egos.

And what we are being invited to do is to disarm, to take off the protective gear. And I say invited because we are not being commanded to do anything in Ephesians. We are not being asked to follow the 10 commandments. We are being invited to act like God. To act like the loving Creator. We are being asked to be kind, to be tender-hearted, and then we are being asked to forgive. Say your sorry. Which might be the most important part. Because when we get hurt which we will that is when we are truly being invited to behave like the Divine. That is when we can extend or receive forgiveness. Did you hear me? We have to give AND receive forgiveness. When we love there is a real risk that we will injure also. When we are standing along side of instead of above there is the chance that we will fail to love adequately as well. In the Broadway musical Wicked, that has been playing at the Orpheum theater in San Francisco now for a while, at the end of the show the two lead characters sing a song called “For Good” which is all about how the two have benefitted from knowing and being friends with the other. And at one point Elphaba sings “just to clear the air I ask forgiveness for the things I’ve done you blame me for,” to which Glenda sings “but then I guess we know there’s blame to share...” The greatest gift that has been extended to us is grace, forgiveness. The great gift we offer to the world and to each other is forgiveness. Do you remember that shooting at the Amish school a few years ago? Even before the bodies of those dear children had grown cold, the community, the mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, had already begun to offer words of forgiveness to the shooter and the shooters family. We must forgive, we must love, we must be kind. It’s that simple.

And maybe we’ll find
true peace of mind
if we always remember
we can be kind.