"Bad Faith" - Acting on Good Faith

 On a friend’s recommendation, I watched the documentary, “Bad Faith” now streaming on Prime. It outlines the history of white christian nationalism, showing how this racist power movement has systematically undermined authentic faith, replacing it with an autocratic organization that stands in opposition to Jesus’s teachings.

When I was a new pastor, someone told a joke about a teenager going out and doing what the pastor had preached about in his sermon. The teen’s parents came in to speak with the pastor, asking him to recant what he had said. “Tell Joey that you were just preaching,” they said. “Tell him you didn’t really mean it.” I thought the joke was funny, but it was funny because the parents did not understand the power of preaching. They did not get the fact that one’s faith is meant to be lived out in very real ways.

Now, the joke does not seem as funny to me. Too many of us, especially those of us who count ourselves as liberal or progressive, do not seem to take our faith seriously enough to act on it. This needs to change. We need to change our ways, and stand up for the values we believe in as people of faith. We need to call out bad faith for what it is, and find our way back to the revolutionary faith of Jesus who called out false leaders for what they were.

Unfortunately, the folks who fell into the white christian nationalist trap did take their faith seriously. They did act, but they didn’t realize they were being duped by a racist agenda and by leaders who turned a blind eye to Jesus’s actual teachings in order to gain political power.

Maybe the religious leaders thought they could return to Jesus once their president and his cronies had control of the White House, but at this point there are no efforts by those in leadership to uphold the values of justice, compassion and mercy that are at the heart of faith for Christians and all authentic religions. If anything, we are seeing the opposite. The vulnerable are being exploited. Honesty and integrity are being run over roughshod. Truth is being submersed in a quagmire of lies.

When encouraged to show mercy, rather than seeing this as an invitation to become a true leader in keeping with Christ’s teachings, the president lashed out, calling the preacher’s comments “nasty in tone” and saying she should not have brought politics into the church. But faith needs to speak up about politics, especially when those in leadership are causing harm.

From the beginning, Jesus spoke truth to power and encouraged his followers to do the same. Good faith depends on our speaking up and taking action. What will you do?

The Bindness of Privilege

I understand the draw of water, the sense of peace it offers. It makes sense to me that people find their way to the ocean for times of respite and relaxation. But for many people, such as Palestinians, peace is too distant for them to imagine.

The contrast that Trump tactlessly drew between the Riviera and war-torn Gaza horrified me. It was a blatant display of the ignorance that a life of privilege, and its concordant disconnection from the realities that most people face, brings. People in Gaza have lost everything - loved ones, homes, communities, their entire way of life! And he has the audacity to suggest that these people be relocated to a country that is not their home, while their homes and communities be bulldozed out of the way to create an upscale resort!

The ignorance of one’s privilege is bad enough, but it is appalling when the president we have elected to lead our country displays such blatant disregard for the lives of others. If we cannot count on our leader(s) to lead us with integrity, wisdom or compassion, then we need to step up and step out.

We need to refuse to be led into the white-supremacist world Trump envisions, and start doing everything we can to create a different, better world. Start where you are. Talk with your family, friends and neighbors about the privilege and racism being promoted by the current administration. Conspire with one another about ways to be the kind and compassionate people that this world needs in every situation.

It is only by standing up and stepping out of the dystopian reality that is attempting to infiltrate our lives, that we can create the reality in which all people are valued, respected, listened to, and believed.

"How Do We Stand Each Other?"

Peggy Ann Brainerd Way (courtesy of Vanderbilt University Special Collections and University Archives)

In 1981, on my first day of Seminary, my professor, Rev. Dr. Peggy Ann Way asked a question that has continued to trouble and inspire me all of these years; "Jesus said we need to love one another," she began, "but my question is 'How can we stand each other? Love is easy, compared to this, but actually liking one another, getting along with one another? Now that is another story!'"

I found Dr. Way's comment jarring. For most of my life I had attempted to push down any thoughts of not liking someone. I was uncomfortable admitting that there were times when I disagreed with other people. In truth, I did not know what to do in those situations, and usually just retreated into silence. It was rare that I would actually argue with someone or even stand up for something I believed in, if I found myself to be alone in those ideas.

Dr. Way encouraged us to reflect on the fact that most churches and religious organizations tend to be homogeneous. They are made up of people who are similar to one another, because people gravitate toward others who are like themselves. It is not difficult to work together when we all see the world from the same perspective, when our experiences in life are similar. The tricky part comes when people are different from one another. 

The challenge for us, as people of faith, is to figure out how to work together in a heterogeneous group. Jesus's followers are not all the same. We are very, very different. Dr. Way broke into my musings saying, "We, as religious leaders, need to honor and include diverse voices and opinions. This is what it means to be the Church. How will you do this?"

Even now, retired from active ministry, I continue to ask myself Dr. Way's question. How will I honor diverse voices today? This is especially difficult when I vehemently disagree with what those voices are saying. The best I can manage is to listen to what is being said underneath the words. What fears and insecurities are being addressed? What is the true cause of that anger or frustration? 

I believe listening to diverse voices gives us insights that can defuse the anger and fear we encounter. As people of faith, we can locate ourselves in the "in-between places". We can stand with the vulnerable folks in our midst, while doing what we can to disarm the hate and violence that are prevalent. In the spirit of Dr. Way's message, this is what it means to be the Church.

*Quotes attributed to Dr. Way are rendered as remembered, to the best of my ability. Any misinterpretations of her intentions are my responsibility.

Untangling the Web of White Christian Nationalism

A Defense Intelligence Agency memo, dated Jan. 28, 2025, directs the DIA workforce to suspend observance of the following: Martin Luther King, Jr. Birthday, Black History Month, Women's History Month, Holocaust Day and Days of Remembrance, Asian American Pacific Islander Heritage Month, Pride, Juneteenth, Women's Equality Day, National Hispanic Heritage Month, National Disability Employment Awareness Month and National American Indian Heritage Month.

These days and months commemorate events and people who have been overlooked and outright abused by those in power. By "suspending" the observance of them, our government is trying to return to the days in which they could pretend ignorance of these abuses. But this is like that old children's sermon that uses a tube of toothpaste to show that once the paste has been squeezed out, it is almost impossible to get it back into the tube. 

We have seen the videos and heard the stories, so we can no longer pretend that we do not know about the injustices sustained by our black and brown friends. We cannot wipe from our minds the reality that is the Holocaust, and the continuing discrimination faced by our Jewish sisters and brothers. We cannot make believe that misogyny is in our past when women's sovereignty over their own bodies is denied. 

As a person of faith, I stand in a long line of those who have stood up against racism, sexism, agism, ableist mindsets. For a while there, we thought we had made some progress. Things were looking better. There was still plenty of room for improvement, but we had hope that justice for all was within reach.

But now, the people who want to go back to the "good old days" of white supremacy have elected a president who is using his power to upend all of the good we have accomplished. he has gathered people around him who whisper platitudes in his ear, hoping they will be rewarded with more money, more power, more rolling back of the progressive laws that get in the way of increasing their wealth and power.

One of the frustrating aspects of this power grab, is that white christian nationalism is an insidious part of the mix. But we need to make it clear that this is not Christianity. It is not even close. Christianity stands in absolute opposition to the agenda of white christian nationalism. The trouble is, that savvy leaders in that movement have used christian language in an attempt to draw people into their web of deceit. 

As people of faith, we need to untangle that web. We need to denounce white christian nationalism and its agenda of greed and power. We need to make clear the teachings of Jesus who was himself a brown man, who aligned himself with the poor and the powerless. Christianity is not a prosperity gospel. It does not honor the rich or powerful. In fact, Jesus told a wealthy young man that it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a wealthy person to get into heaven. 

I believe Jesus. I also understand that heaven is a long way off for most of us, and that we want this world to be a kinder, more peaceful, and more just place for all of God's children. In order for this to happen, we need to stand up and speak up - scary as that may be.

Picking Up the Pieces

I have been experiencing a dry period with regard to my blog posts. My faith in humanity is shaken and I find myself needing time to recalibrate. It is simply beyond my comprehension that we have elected the current administration. There were so many signs that this was a bad idea, that I thought it was impossible for Trump to succeed in getting elected. How could so many people actually vote for someone who attempted to circumvent the democratic process once and clearly stated he would dismantle it if he got into office? How could people vote for a sexist, racist bully who wields wealth and power as if they give him the right to do whatever he wants? Did the people who voted for him think he was just kidding when he said all of those awful things? That he was using hyperbole? 

However it happened, after the election, I needed to take some time to deal with my disappointment, get over the shock, and regroup. But now, the negative effects are accumulating and I know it is time to pick up the pieces and speak up. I cannot even begin to enumerate all of the ways in which the safety rails many of us counted on are falling apart. Some dictates are coming down from Trump and the billionaires and other pandering folks who have gathered around him seeking their own piece of the power pie. But the effects that cause me the most alarm are the more localized ones. The more personal attacks enacted by everyday people.

Ugly text messages are being sent to children, attacking them on the basis of color, gender identity, or nationality. Hate mail and death threats are being sent to good people who are simply working toward justice in their communities. Confederate flags fly over homes, silently threatening the serenity and security of black and brown neighbors. School children mutter epithets under their breath to kids who are different from themselves, and the adults in their lives either encourage this behavior or throw up their hands in resignation, assuming they have no control over them.

I can't help but wonder if we have not necessarily lost control, but rather that we have chosen to abdicate control. It seems to me that many of us have given up our autonomy. We have abdicated our rights. Instead of discerning for ourselves what to think and how to respond in any given situation, we have given away the power of personal choice to the highest bidder. 

There is a lot of uncertainty right now, and along with uncertainty comes fear. When you don't know what is going to happen next, it can seem sensible to lay low for a while until we see what unfolds. The problem with this, is that our friends and neighbors, and a whole lot of people we may not know, are being affected negatively right now. If we hold back, if we withhold our comments until we are more certain, then it will already be too late to protect the most vulnerable in our midst. 

The time to speak up is now. Pay attention, and "if you see something, say something!" The time to act on behalf of justice for all, is now.

We Hold These Truths to be Self-Evident

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness."

The Declaration of Independence does not mince words. It was crafted to state what our Founders were hoping to create in this brave new world as they freed themselves from Britain's rule. 

Our society's long standing agreement about what constitutes "the Truth" is under attack. Some news outlets blatantly promote a skewed version of events, meanwhile doing all they can to convince their followers that no other news sources can be trusted. Many social media outlets have stopped monitoring their feeds to ensure that false and misleading stories are labeled as such, and so it can be difficult to tell truth from fiction when searching for information. Truth is being undermined, eaten away by those who strive to manipulate how we see the world and how we perceive events.

It is a well-known principle that if something is repeated often enough, eventually it starts to carry the ring of truth. This happens even with things that begin their lives as blatant lies! When we are bombarded day after day with false statements, it becomes almost impossible to sift through them to recover the truth lying squashed under the weight of it all. I wonder if we can agree to any truths being self-evident anymore? 

Are all people created equal, or are some a little more "equal" - more important than others? Is someone more equal because of the color of their skin, the education they received, their gender identity or the size of their bank account? And while we are talking about this particular point, the Declaration was obviously written long before inclusive language took hold, stating "all men are created equal". For way too long women did not count as full citizens. Our foremothers had to fight for the right of women to even be seen as a person. We thought this was "settled law" but with everything else that is being called into question, how long will it be before women are no longer considered of equal status? Roe v Wade has already been struck down; what is next? What does this undermining of rights mean for people who don't conform to binary gender concepts? Are we going to allow ourselves or our country to go back? 

Are the Rights afforded to us really unalienable, meaning nonnegotiable? Do we each get to live our lives as we wish? Are we all operating under the same Liberties as other folks, or do some people get more leeway in their liberties than others? 

And what about the Pursuit of Happiness? It is difficult to experience happiness when my rights as a woman are being wrested from my hands. It is difficult to experience happiness when the president-elect and his team refuse to submit themselves to the ethics that govern everyone else. It is difficult, almost impossible to experience happiness when honesty, mutual respect, kindness, care for the vulnerable, and so many other values I thought we all agreed on, are under attack.

Abraham Lincoln called the Declaration “a rebuke and a stumbling-block to tyranny and oppression.” 

I sure hope Abe was right. I hope something blocks the tyranny and oppression that have started to infiltrate our country. I hope something trips up those who are intent on undermining the rights for which our Founders and many others fought so hard. Maybe that something is us. We the people can and must do the hard work of deciphering truth from falsehood. We can and must insist on maintaining and holding fast to the rights the Declaration of Independence promised us.

Hope Is a Dangerously Good Thing

 

I have been thinking about hope, particularly about the difference it makes when we have it versus when we don't. Several years ago I heard someone say that they thought hope was not a good thing, because it creates a false sense of relief from the pressures we may be facing. Illustrative of this viewpoint, Morgan Freeman's character, Otis "Red" Redding, in the 1994 movie, The Shawshank Redemption, says, "Hope is a dangerous thing, my friend, it can kill a man". Red believes that hope of escape or release can drive a man insane because it's unlikely to come true. Tim Robbins' character Andy Dufresne disagrees, saying, "Hope is a good thing, maybe even the best of things. And good things never die".

Andy has it right, I think, having experienced this for myself in the past few days. 

As has been true for many of us, the divisions that exist in our country, and even in the world at large, have been wearing me down. It seems that every day the news, no matter what outlet you choose, focuses on the most negative stories and perspectives they can find. I didn't realize that all of this negativity had such a profound affect on me until a little bit of hope broke through the rubble of negativity and I felt my spirits lift.

The sliver of hope was represented by President Biden choosing to stand aside rather than continuing to pursue another term as president. Leading up to this moment, I was discouraged by so many lawmakers, journalists and others publicly calling for him to do just this. These conversations should have happened in private, where honest discussion, weighing of ideas and sharing opinions could take place in a respectful way, without the entire world watching. 

Listening in on conversations I would rather not have been privy to, left me feeling exhausted and incredibly stressed. Add to this the violence of an assassination attempt on Trump, followed by white christian nationalists comparing him to Jesus, and claiming God had saved him so that he could in turn save America; I was traumatized and terrified. 

And I knew I had to speak up to defend the faith I hold and the God I served as pastor for more than 30 years.

The God I know, has higher standards than any small-minded human with their self-serving agenda. The God I know does not save one person's life at the cost of another's. The God I know does not place power in the hands of those who want that power for selfish reasons. The God I know has a long-standing preference for the poor. All of the things I know and love about the God I serve stand in stark contrast to the values espoused by white christian nationalists, their terrifying Project 2025, and the corrupt criminal candidate to whom they have sold their souls.

Back to that glimmer of hope I mentioned. By stepping aside for the good of the nation, for the good of democracy, President Biden has shown what it takes to be a true leader. He may have wanted to continue in the presidency for another four years, but he has placed the needs of the whole above his own personal agenda. This humble act of service is incredibly rare in this day and age. Simply stated, it gives me hope that we may actually rise out of the current maelstrom and continue this experiment in democracy. It gives me hope that every person might still be seen and heard, their rights respected and their votes counted.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

Emily Dickinson, "'Hope' is the Thing with Feathers" from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, edited by Thomas H. Johnson, ed., Cambridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press of Harvard University press, Copyright © 1951, 1955, 1979, 1983

The Injustice of Immunity

 

The path ahead is a challenging one - no matter what "path" I contemplate these days. My everyday walks are challenging because of the extreme heat that is afflicting most of the country, including Vermont, and the fact that rain either inundates us or skips over our garden means I am often walking in dust or mud.

The path ahead for our country holds far too much of my attention. I subscribe to a national newspaper, hoping for a wide breadth of information about what is going on in the world, but most days my heart takes a dive just skimming the so-called "top stories" which are steadily normalizing a reality I do not want to acknowledge. 

Presidential immunity is just the latest scandal to rise to the top of my newsfeed. And, yes, I do consider it a scandal. I am astonished that we are just stumbling along as if this must be accepted without any pushback. Those of us who believe in this country and the system of checks and balances our founders established, want desperately to rely on them taking care of this problem. But at this point in time, the checks and balances have been dismantled. The Judicial branch of our government, meant to balance the Executive branch, is no longer free of bias, and the Legislative branch is unable to function at all thanks to the deeply entrenched desire on the part of some to oppose anything their colleagues on the other side of the aisle propose.

The dismantling of justice and, honestly, of reality itself, is insidious work. In this country it began quite some time ago. When I comment to equally-frustrated friends that Barack Obama should have appointed a Supreme Court justice in March of 2016, but was blocked by an obstructionist Republican Senate, others with a deeper understanding of history tell me the unravelling started long before that happened in 2016.

I am not equipped to go into the long and painful history of our country's unravelling, and of the root causes of the dissociative state we find ourselves in with regard to reality. But what I will say is that we cannot stand by and just watch this play out. We need to speak up wherever and whenever we can, adding our voices to those who are willing to say we have lost our way as a country and as a people. 

We need to teach our children and our politicians that there IS such a thing as "truth", and that truth is universal. Truth cannot be tamed or manipulated. We as a country need to find our way back to the honest truth - of what is just and fair, as well as the truth of what simply IS. 

Jesus said "the truth will set you free". Personally, I would like to be free again, and this is my wish for all of us. The irony is, that while you and I feel less and less free, a convicted criminal is not only running free, but he is running for president. Until this great injustice is corrected, until everyone stands back on equal footing in this "land of the free and home of the brave", none of us is truly free.

Blind Justice

Lady Justice is depicted as being blindfolded, whenever she appears. This signifies that in the eyes of justice, everyone is treated equally. No one is more important than anyone else. No one's rights supersede anyone else's. This is even stated in the Declaration of Independence: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men (sic) are created equal,..." 

So, I am confused hearing that the Supreme Court of the United States is deliberating about whether the president is equal to everyone else, or if he or she is exempt from justice. How is it even possible that we are contemplating this? Why would we want our elected leader to be free from the laws that all of the rest of us are responsible to live up to? What is the benefit in this? It seems to me that this is a short step away from said elected leader declaring him or herself president for life rather than succumbing to elections when their term was up. (Which we already had a brush with, if you remember!)

It seems to me that we would want a president who was a role model; someone who leads the way in showing people how to live responsibly, honestly and upholding the laws of the land. I cannot get my head around the possibility that any honest person would want to put themselves above the law. To me, a leader should be one of the staunchest supporters of the laws of justice. At the very least, being a leader should mean doing one's absolute best to consider the needs of the whole nation above their own personal desires and whims. 

If a person thinks they are above the rules that govern everyone else, then their life has no moral center. If someone does not have a plumb line by which to judge when they are on course and when they are off, then that person could end up pretty far off course very quickly. And if that person was the president, then when this happened they take the entire country with them. Consider the problems this would create!

If the Supreme Court decides that the president is above the law, then Lady Justice may no longer be blindfolded, but her hands will be tied. Nothing good can come of this, and it horrifies me to know that people who are supposed to guard the integrity of our country do not see this as a terrible violation of one of the very principles they should be upholding. 

Beach Cleaning as a Heart Practice

MacArthur State Park is one of our favorite beaches to spend time at while we are in Florida. There is an estuary to explore in kayaks, where we see all kinds of birds flying overhead or hidden in the mangroves around the shoreline. There is a boardwalk across the estuary, and finally, an expansive sandy beach where we can sit or walk for hours undisturbed. 

Storms can alter the shape and scale of beaches overnight, and one day we were shocked to see MacArthur Beach littered with all kinds of debris thanks to an overnight storm. The wind was still blowing when my daughters and I walked down to take a closer look. We saw the remains of someone's freshly built dock - the wooden planks and stairs, although scattered many feet apart, were still raw and freshly treated. A small boat, mostly made of foam and plastic, lay half buried in the sand. We sat for a while on a piece of lumber, and watched the crashing waves as the wind continued to blow strong and steady.

It was too windy to sit for long that day, but the next Gary and I returned and picked up a bucket and trash grabber that were stacked near the entrance to the beach. Walking up the beach that day we each collected a bucket full of plastic bottle caps, bags and fragments well on their way to becoming microplastics that cause so much harm in the worlds oceans. There were ropes and sharp bits of glass and wood, as well as a syringe that definitely gave me pause, walking barefoot as I usually do when I am there.

Since that day, when we go to the beach I often grab a bucket and add litter pick up to my relaxing beach walks. This practice helps me to feel that I am contributing in a positive way to keeping the environment I care about in better shape. It also slows me down. 

I am a person who has spent most of her life hurrying from one place or activity to another, taking very little time to reflect or pause between. How ironic that something that feeds into my need to keep myself occupied and feeling like I am accomplishing something worthwhile is also teaching me about the value of its opposite! It is important to learn how to simply BE, how to slow down to the speed of life. I know this intellectually, but find it difficult to actually practice it. Now, thanks to my desire to contribute by picking up litter, I am reaping the benefit of actually taking time to notice my surroundings, down to the smallest fragment of plastic or shell or seaweed or stone.

The discernment process of determining the difference between trash and treasure is serving me well as I allow myself the time to discern what is next in my life. I am not very patient, least of all with myself, but this is helping, and it enables me to do some good while I wait.

 

NaNoWriMo

NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month, which takes place in November each year. The challenge is to write 50,000 words in the course of one month. This works out to 1,667 words per day for each of November's 30 days. 

At first I didn't really think NaNoWriMo had anything to do with me. I am not a novelist, for starters, but the folks who organize the event are great at making everyone who likes to write in any form feel welcome. They even held a virtual memoir writing camp this summer, which I did not attend, but the idea of it brought home the thought that I could participate this November and write whatever my heart drew me toward. So I did.

I have been wanting to write my memoir for at least 25 years, and I have managed to jot down ideas and even entire essays over the course of that time. However, this all felt disjointed. There was no clear flow to the writing, no underlying theme. I was not sure how to organize my memories and the stories that accompany them into some kind of coherent whole. 

When this year's NaNoWriMo approached, I decided that I would use the month as a springboard for the project. My intention was to focus on a different memory each day, beginning with my earliest ones and going as far as the thirty days would take me. I knew I needed a theme, and after trying and discarding several possible concepts, I settled on "Connections". I figured that this could reflect my connections with Spirit, with the natural world, with family, with friends, with myself, even. It seemed broad enough as well as specific enough to work as a framework on which to build.

November is over, and with it the challenge that I accepted of writing 50,000 words, a day at a time. I am happy to report that I did it! Some days in particular were difficult for me to take time out for writing. Thanksgiving, with its attendant activities of cooking, celebrating with friends and family, travel, etcetera, features in there. And it comes close to the home stretch, so that puts a bit of pressure on, to keep up your word count so you don't have a word mountain to climb during the last few days.

As a way of celebrating the fact that I successfully rose to the challenge, I decided to print out my month's worth of words. They totaled 50,212 words, and filled up 204 pages. Carefully wrapping the pages to protect them from the rain and from being jostled into chaos, I brought them to Staples and had them bound. Mostly I did this to see what it looked like, and how it felt to have something physical to
show for my efforts. Even though I know it is a draft, and a rough one at that, it surprised me how good it feels to hold that book in my hands. 

All of this reminded me of how important it is to just get started on whatever it is that your heart is calling you to do. I am hopeful that this message will continue to draw me forward into the life I imagine.

A Centering Place

Whenever I am at home in Vermont, I like to make a daily trek to this little stream that runs behind our house. Sometimes I carry a stick of incense, but I always bring a little bit of well water from our tap as I make my way along the wooded path my feet have created over the years. When I arrive at the stream, I offer a prayer of gratitude for the beauty of the day - whether sunny or rainy, warm or cold, and for the gifts that life brings to me. Sometimes this is a highlight of my day - recognizing the simple gift of being alive and able to take in the beauty and sources of wonder evident all around me.

Once my prayers are done and observations of all there is to be grateful for feel complete, I settle in at the edge of the stream and watch the water flow for a while. If I am feeling off, unsettled in any way, spending time with the stream helps. As the water flows, my frayed nerves calm down. The waters refresh and soothe me, clearing my mind of chatter and worries. I like to imagine the water washing my cares away, carrying them down stream and out to the sea where they are diluted into the vastness of the ocean.

This ritual grounds me in the place that I call home. It helps me to feel more centered, especially when facing challenges or dealing with worries. The picture above shows the spot where the water pools and some incense burns over it. You may be able to sense the peace and calm of this place through my words, but it is even more likely that you are calling to mind a place that offers this sense of centeredness for you. I encourage you to go there whether in person or through your memories, and let your heart be at home for a while today.

The Wisdom of Bluebirds

                                                                ~Photo by June Schulte

My friend June took this photo of a Bluebird who was doing his best to deal with below-zero temperatures. When you live in Vermont and it is winter time, your options for keeping warm are limited. Recently, when the temperatures dipped well below freezing, this little guy perched on a branch above a heated bird bath for the duration. Puffing his feathers out, he created as much insulation from the cold as he could muster. 

I have been spending a lot of time with Florida's birds, none of whom seem to have any trouble accepting the warm and sometimes hot weather down here. Being so close to water most of the time, they can easily dip in and cool off if that is their desire. The ocean breezes help to keep things comfortable as well, for birds and for us.

This got me to thinking about how we protect ourselves from the extremes that challenge us - extremely hot or cold weather, emotional ups and downs, and more painfully, the tragedies that sometimes touch our lives. How do we insulate ourselves so that we have the protection we need? How do we ensure that we are not thrown too far off balance by the challenges that come our way?

Sometimes I wish I was like this little Bluebird and could puff up my feathers to create a soft cushion around me. Seeing him got me to thinking about what we humans can do for ourselves when the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" whiz around our ears. What stands in the place of fluffy feathers for us?

Companionship is possibly the strongest protection we have. Family, friends, companion animals, co-workers, other folks who know something about what we are facing. Each of these offers support to us when we need it, and each offers different kinds of accompaniment, depending on their particular gifts and on our relationship with them. Some are good listeners, others offer deep wisdom, some are active and get us moving when we need that, while others are good cozy company when we need to curl up for awhile. 

For me, companionship also comes in the mysterious form of the Holy. Call this God, Spirit, All-That-Is - whatever strikes a chord with your own inner knowing. Even after years of ministering, and of praying my way through a humbling array of crises, the Holy shows up in my life, my mind and my heart in a wide variety of ways. Even now, a simple name does not manage to wrap this Presence up for me in any kind of authentic way. But I know I am held in this Holy Presence, always.

Quite some time ago when I was going through a rough patch, a dear friend guided me to imagine myself surrounded by rose colored light, she described it as an egg-shaped rose quartz. This was meant to provide protection from any outside elements that challenged me and also to be a source of strength so that I could face those challenges with courage. It helped, so I return to this practice whenever I feel the need for a little extra protection, a little extra courage. 

When I surround myself with this light, I feel the presence of all of my companions in life - the mysterious presence of God, Spirit, All-That-Is and the earthier presence of dear family and friends. In this way, I feel held in Love. As I get ready to take whatever step seems the next right thing to do, I am held in Love. If I need to curl up and sit tight for a while as the sweet Bluebird in this picture is doing, I can do that with a sense of peace. Knowing that no matter what, the love of family, friends and the Holy surrounds me now and always, gently guiding me, never judging, always holding me close.

Man-O-War Anxiety

Portuguese man-o-war got their name because someone imagined that they look like an 18th century Portuguese battleship under full sail. I am not sure of the conditions that bring them to the shore, but they show up pretty often on the beaches here in Southeastern Florida. When that happens, a purple flag of warning hangs from the lifeguard stand on affected beaches. You can still swim, if you choose, but your choice may involve getting stung by the tentacles that stretch out up to 30 feet from the floating creature itself. This makes swimming feel especially fraught to me. 

The chance of seeing a man-o-war while you are in the water is slight enough, with all of the wave action and given the fact that your eyes are close to sea level themselves, but knowing that their sticky tentacles are so far reaching pushes the risk factor up exponentially. Suffice it to say that I don't usually swim when the purple flag flies. I do, however, walk the shoreline, careful to avoid the bloated blueish bodies littering my path. 

One day when the purple flag flew, Gary was walking, presumably without my hyper-attentiveness and he stepped on one. A loud POP! startled him out of his reverie. If it were me, I would have rushed to the water to rinse off my foot and then nervously looked for signs of the stinging venom they are known to possess. When I asked him what happened afterward, he laughed and said, "nothing." 

"What?" I asked, "didn't it sting? Wasn't there some kind of jelly stuck to your foot?"

"Nope. Turns out it was full of air. It just popped. Made me jump a little from the sound, but it didn't hurt in any way. No sting, no nothing." He laughed at himself, recalling again how he had reacted to the loud sound of it popping under his foot.

I laughed with him a little, but honestly found it hard to believe that Gary's encounter was that innocuous, after all of the built up anxiety that surrounded the creatures for me. I started thinking about the unsettling fact that often the things I worry about, just like those man-o-war lying on the shore, are no more than so much hot air. How often does all of the anxiety and worry built up around something I fear turn out to be a bloated, benign balloon of absolutely nothing?

Doing some research, I discovered that the tentacles of beached man-o-war can and do sting, so beach combers are cautioned to avoid stepping on or near them for this reason. So, I can comfort myself, if I feel the need to justify myself, with the thought that my fear of them is appropriate after all. But, like the choice I often make to walk in the shallow waves even when the purple flag flies, I can also choose not to let my fear ramp up into anxiety that takes away the casual joy of walking on a sandy beach in Florida. I can choose to focus on the joy, and maybe even appreciate the beauty of those blueish to pink man-o-war dotted among the shells and seaweed.

 

What Makes It Christmas?

Gary and I will be traveling for Christmas this year, spending it at my daughter and son-in-law's home. Having retired, I am no longer responsible for crafting a Christmas Eve Service. This in itself feels very strange to me. I am used to my holiday celebrations being shaped by the outside forces of work and responsibility. If I am honest, I actually enjoy this part of ministry. I enjoy creating meaningful experiences that help people come closer to the true meaning of Christmas and other celebratory days in the church year. 

There is such an outer pull from the world around us to celebrate in specific ways, ways that skim the surface of the season rather than taking us deeply into its heart. I have always been a person who wanted to go deeper. From the time I was a little girl, I have appreciated the mystery that surrounds Christmas. I loved the candlelight at the evening church service, singing Silent Night acapella and then feeling the hush in the darkness afterward as we walked out into the night, clutching our small candles.

Meister Eckhardt gave voice to this mystery for me, claiming, "unless the Christ is born within me, then it does not matter that he was born 2,000 years ago in a stable in Bethlehem." 

I find myself wondering what will bring the season home for me this year. We aren't getting our usual live Christmas Tree, thinking it doesn't make sense. In an effort at compensating, we bought a rosemary bush shaped like a Christmas tree, but it is really not the same.  I did make wreaths with my friend and hung ours on the door as usual, with a string of lights, so that is one tradition that remains the same. Gary and I set up our tiny creche that spins thanks to the warmth of candles arrayed around its base, and placed some pine boughs in a vase hoping that the scent would permeate the air a bit, too.

It is definitely not the same, and yet the differences are causing me to go deeper in my own thinking about what Christmas is really all about. We will gather with family, which for me is the heart of the holiday. I will most likely continue to write about how this all feels to me. My intention is to spend a fair amount of time reflecting on just how the Christ is being born both within and all around me. Maybe a good question to hold in mind is where is the Holy in this moment, in this experience, in this conversation?

God, Love & Truth

"God, Guns and Trump" is emblazoned on a barn that I have to drive by frequently. The flag first went up when the 2020 election was in full swing, but it is still hanging there and I can't help but see it as a threat to the democracy and the faith that I hold dear. 

The whole idea that God has anything to do with guns or with promoting a particular political candidate disgusts me, and I am speaking as a Christian, as a pastor of 38 years. Jesus was a pacifist who refused to seize power through force or any underhanded methods. Satan tempted him with power and authority over the nations of the world when Jesus was fasting in the wilderness. Jesus said "no" in very clear terms. He refused to make any deals with the devil even if the deal seemed to promote things that Jesus was working toward. 

Peter wielded a sword in Gethsemane, cutting off the ear of a Roman soldier who had come to arrest Jesus. Jesus told Peter to put his sword away. Scholars think that a part of Judas's frustration with Jesus was that he did not raise up an army to fight the Roman oppressors. Some of them say that Judas was trying to force Jesus's hand when he betrayed him to the authorities, wrongly assuming that Jesus would finally turn on them and fight.

Jesus's messages centered on Love, not violence. Yes, he did expect to win over the world and all of the earthly and political powers that were and are, but he expected to do so through the power of Love. He did not threaten his enemies with physical violence, but rather with the power of God, whom he saw as the God of Love. Jesus turned the world's understandings upside down. “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you," (Matthew 5:43-44)

We are in challenging times, times in which love is being pushed to the side as not being a strong or effective force. We live in times when honesty is seen as a quaint character flaw of the naive rather than the central characteristic of a good person. We live in times when the idea of fairness has been subverted to mean, "if I have the power or the money, I can do whatever I want no matter who it crushes underfoot in the process." But I want to go on record saying that this attitude is not Christian. The end never justifies privilege-bought, deceitful or violent means, even if the end is something you think God wants. 

God's ways are not our ways. God has the power to work through Love and does not need our guns or dishonest politics in order to win the day. In fact, if you are not honest; if you need to resort to violence, then you have most likely strayed from the Way laid out by Jesus.

My prayer is that we can find our way back to a Christian faith that honestly reflects the values that Jesus embodied throughout his entire life.