Repentance

This post is by Rev. Mark Zier, Pastor at Aldersgate UMC

It seems that one of the constants of Christian preaching throughout the centuries has been the admonition to “flee the wrath that is to come!” Years ago I was asked to “perform” Jonathan Edwards’ sermon, “Sinners in the Hand of an Angry God”. It is an unrelenting diatribe against the presumption of the wicked that they might somehow avoid the eternal pains of hell. Wikipedia notes that it was “preached to his own congregation in Northampton to unknown effect.” About 30 minutes into my delivery, I really got into it: shouting, pounding the pulpit, etc. I can tell you its effect on me was exhausting (it took the better part of an hour to deliver the whole thing). But as I reflected on the text, I couldn’t help but think that Edwards had resorted to this exaggerated, vivid imagery out of desperation, knowing that no one was really listening. Perhaps the image of an angry God, ready to whack anyone who steps over the line, is more the product of a whole succession of frustrated preachers than the gospel of the God of love.

A group of us from San Rafael First and Aldersgate have been reading Brian McClaren’s recent book, Naked Spirituality, as part of our Lenten journey together. The book is an attempt to show the way to a deeper relationship with God, stripped of all the pretensions and assumptions that we have about ourselves and about God. I heartily recommend it. McClaren’s starting point is a God that is utterly and faithfully in love with each one of us. As with any loving partner, God might not always be happy with us or what we’ve done; but God never gives up on us. From this perspective, repentance isn’t so much a turning to God out of fear of what might happen to us if we don’t, sackcloth and ashes and all that; but rather more like making up with our lover after a spat, with an offering of flowers and candy. It’s reconciliation. It’s the first step to new life.

God, I can barely get my head around how much you love me. And I love you, too. I’m grateful for all that you’ve done for me and the meaning you’ve given to my life, and I’m thrilled by the prospect of what you want for the whole world. But I know I’ve disappointed you, probably more often than I’d care to admit. I’m sorry. I’m coming to you now, Lord, with tokens of my love for you. Can we get back together to share again the intimacy we’ve had in the past? Thank you, God.

Watching for God in the Ordinary

This post is by Norma Jean Powell, San Rafael First UMC

Psalm 63: 1-8 “My soul is satisfied as with a rich feast, and my mouth praises you with joyful lips when I think of you on my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night;”

While we were in silent prayer during worship on the First Sunday of Lent, my eyes happened upon the deep purple fabric covering the worship table, the shiny material luminescent with sworls of light. In the dark, contemplative season of Lent, when we carefully drape our worship environment in purples and greys, the light of God’s love will find a way in. Perhaps the intent of using dark colors or of giving up a pleasure we love, or of adopting a special spiritual practice during lent is to encourage us to watch for the evidence of God’s presence in our lives, not just in this sanctuary but in the mundane, the ordinary, even the dark places. 

Early Japanese poets relied on a concept called “wabi”. Wabi conveys the beauty of the most ordinary circumstances and objects, so one might write of the steam rising from a cup of tea or a flower with it’s stem bent and muddied by the rain. The 17th century poet-master, Basho, wrote:
          spring rain –
          roof leak drizzling
          through a hanging wasps’ nest
Basho also wrote several poems in the last days of his life, even as he knew that his illness was final, finding peace in savoring the small sights and circumstances around him: birds flying against a cloud, a white flower with dust specks on it, autumn-dry fields.

The psalmist writes: “…for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy.”

In these days of Lent I watch each day, even each moment, for the shadow of God’s wing spreading over me; watching for the small, the mundane, the ordinary that sings of God’s presence. Awakening in the early hours of the morning with much time before dawn, unable to sleep again, we often let the worries of our subconscious drive us to despair. But now the words of the psalmist remind me to spend that time praising God. And then I hear the owl that has taken up residence in the tree outside my bedroom calling, and I think again of the small wonders of creation; soon a peace settles over the room and sleep returns. Scent of plum blossoms, the moon reflected in the white blooming plum trees, the wind purring through the eucalyptus grove, crows screaming a warning of perceived danger, and robins exclaiming their delight at finding a few last holly berries, the dark shadow of evening creeping across the mountain. Each day when I enter the gifts God has given I sense the deep peace a satisfaction that the psalmist sings of, and the peace of the creator surrounds me as though I were sheltered under God’s wings.

More About Praying

This submission is from Susan Trumbull, member of the Novato UMC.

Praying

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn'ta contest, but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

Mary Oliver
 **********
Prayers come in many guises,
Depending on when, where and from whom....
The Crux    is   TO WhomSusan Trumbull

Opening Ourselves to God

Sarah McCune—1st year seminarian at the Graduate Theological Union and Director of Children’s and Youth Ministries at Aldersgate UMC

I was baptized in a Birmingham, AL United Methodist Church on June 3, 2012 and the next day I was speaking at the West Florida annual conference about my calling to the United Methodist Church. By all accounts it was a fast discernment process, but I have been actively engaged in discerning what it means to be a faithful Christian since I was ten years old. The UMC has always been in my backyard, I grew up minutes from Epworth by the Sea on St. Simons Island, GA. However, it was not until after my baptism that I visited the Wesley Memorial on the island for the first time. A few weeks after that I was a camp counselor at a UMC affiliated summer camp in North Alabama and had a tattoo of the flame and cross healing. The kids in my camp family provided me with constant reminders as to why I feel called to the United Methodist Church. We talked about topics like if a tattoo was not treating the body like a temple, how trees reflected God’s blessings, and had an intense conversation about bullying. Each of these discussions were deeply spiritual and theological and most of the time I could ask a question like”where do you see God?” and the kids would have the most eloquent of answers.

I provide this context because all of these parts of my life happened prior to my arrival to California. I honestly was scared to move out here from Birmingham, AL to follow a calling that I could not fully articulate. At times the tattoo on my foot spoke louder than any words. I had been in my graduate program for two weeks when I applied for the Director of Children’s and Youth Ministries at Aldersgate. I knew it was where God wanted me to be, but I was fearful that perhaps I would not be an ideal candidate for I do not know all the Wesley factoids or even the best approach for teaching young people scripture. I knew that youth allowed me to open myself up to learning and that they would teach me as much as I was expected to teach them.

If I had to pick one lesson my youth have taught me in six months or so we have been together, then it would be to open myself up to learning. It is when we open ourselves up to listening for the first time that we can discern the voice of God. My youth embody the vision in Genesis 15:1, “After these things the word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision, "Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great."  They teach me to not be afraid to ask questions of my faith and community, they teach me to be respectful of others, and they teach me to see the world from a young person’s eyes. They are full of hope for the future and yet know how to live in the present moment.

Indeed being a youth minister has moments of fear and doubt, but the rewards are very great.  It is my hope for this season of Lent we all find moments to be like a child and be inspired by the mysteries of God’s grace.

Living Fearlessly

This post is by Nicole Nelson, 1st United Methodist Church San Rafael:

 

Through the years, I have known people to give up all kinds of things for Lent- coffee, meat, chocolate (gasp!), facebook, even deodorant (which somehow made sense in college, I can't quite remember now why). As we approached this Lenten season, I wondered if I was feeling called to make a similar commitment that would sharpen my focus and remove some of the distractions that pull me from that deeper, joyful life that always seems to be just on the other side of my ever-growing to-do list.

 

As much as I would have just like to give up the list itself (sorry, sweetie, I'd love to take out the recycling, but it's Lent....), I couldn't really justify how living in squalor with two children would really bring anyone closer to God. And is that really what distracts me? Is it really the trips to the library, remembering preschool paperwork, a trip to Costco and cleaning the bathroom that stand in the way, or is it my thoughts, feelings and reactions to those things? If I am honest, it is the angst about fitting it all in, the fear of not doing enough and the drive to have things done 'right' are what pull me from the peace that I have known in less hectic times.

 

In this week's passage from Genesis (15:1-5), God says to Abram "Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great" and Abram answers "O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless...a slave born in my house is to be my heir."  God goes on to reassure Abram extensively and history bears that God makes good on this promise. But I wonder how many times God says to me "Nicole, I have an amazing vision for your life" and my answer is "Yes, Lord, but the laundry pile is so great and I need to make brownies for preschool right now."

 

But what if we lived fearlessly, as 'Citizens of Heaven' as Paul writes in Phillipians 3:20? How might my daily life look different? Could the trip to Costco be less about quickly getting my tasks done and instead seen as an opportunity for random acts of kindness toward stressed-out strangers? What would someone unhindered by fear tell her 3 year old about the homeless person talking to himself outside the library? Would a Citizen of Heaven hold a grudge against her spouse for not remembering to buy milk (again)? I am considering all these questions and many more. I've decided that for Lent this year, I will continue wearing deoderant and eating chocolate (thank you very much), but will be making little baby steps at living fearlessly, moment by moment.

Gather Us In

This post is by Kyle Butler, a pastor at Mt. Tamalpais UMC and Tam Abbey:

During Lent Mt. Tam UMC is doing a sermon series focused on the theme of "mindfulness" and different practices to grow in our spiritual lives. This Sunday I will be talking about prayer as a spiritual practice and after reading this week's lesson from Luke my first thought was "there is no way I can use this story to talk about prayer!" Luke's gospel tells us of a threat to Jesus' life and of Jesus' lament over the city of Jerusalem. It's a harsh and threatening text that, at least for me, doesn't place me in an attitude of prayer. I was tempted to preach on a different text, something calmer and more reassuring.

Yet, despite this initial uneasiness, these words of Christ stuck out to me, "How often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!" These words have remained with me as I reflect on this passage. How often is it that God seeks to gather me in from the chaos of my life and I am unwilling? How often do I choose to fill my time sitting on the couch watching television rather than allowing God to speak to me in a moment of reflection?

So I think this passage may actually have a lot to teach us about prayer. Prayer can take a lot of different forms for different people. You may like to write your prayers out in a journal. You may prefer to express your prayers in images that you draw yourself or cut from a magazine. Perhaps you pray best by just sitting in silence, going on a walk, or kneeling down and speaking to God out loud. Whatever form of prayer strikes you, I think for all of us prayer is simply the act of taking a moment to simply listen to God. Prayer is a challenge to not fill every moment with some new task, to turn off the steady stream of media pouring into our lives, and just notice all that is around us. God is already gathering us in, prayer is taking the time to notice and respond.

Practices of Prayer

This post is by Rev. Aniko Olah, pastor at Novato UMC:

Dear Lenten Pilgrims,

Greetings and blessings to you and yours!
What are you doing this year as a special Lenten discipline, I wonder? Did you "give up" something for Lent? Did you "take on" something for Lent? Maybe both? I am glad that you are part of our online group, and the Saturday gatherings at the Aroma Cafe in San Rafael will be great opportunities for fellowship.

At this time I would like to invite you to "take on" a prayer practice for a few minutes every day at Noon during Lent. At the Novato UMC this is our second annual Lenten prayer discipline: no matter where you are or what you do, you are invited to pause just for a few moments at Noon to pray.

You could imagine these few prayer moments at Noon as sending a Face book status update to God: "I am here eating lunch and I pray for all those, who are in need of food." Or you could imagine these few prayer moments at Noon as sending a tweet to God: "Just checking in, asking for guidance for this difficult conversation at work". Or you could imagine these few prayer moments at Noon as sending a text message to God: "Thanks for the great book I am reading."

You could pray the Lord's Prayer if you wish, or the Serenity Prayer. Or you could be in absolute silence... only listening... You could carry a small journal with you and write your prayers down, if you wish. How about singing a song or a hymn one day at Noon? Drawing a picture maybe?

I close with the well known and beloved Lenten commission so many of us use: "Go forth, in Christ's name, to transform existence, to bring consolation to the desperate, hope to the hungry and homeless, reconciliation to a community and world divided. And in Christ's name, find a cause you can live for, a self you can live with, and a Redeemer for whom you can die." Amen!

Holy Grounds Week 2

Thanks to all of our contributors last week, we are off to a great start! Here are the texts to reflect on this week:

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18 
Psalm 27 
Philippians 3:17-4:1 
Luke 13:31-35 

As a reminder, we will continue to meet at 10 am on Saturday mornings at the Aroma Coffee Shop in San Rafael, CA to discuss these readings and the daily reflections.

Temptation

This post is by Mark Zier, pastor at Aldersgate UMC:

Every year about this time I’m reminded of the line from Oscar Wilde: “I can resist anything but temptation.” O, how true that is for me.

When I’m hungry, I’m tempted to eat. Even when I’m not hungry, I’m tempted to eat. When I’m on the freeway, I’m often tempted to lay on the gas just a little harder. At least until I see the black and white patrol car at the side of the road (and everyone who lives in Marin knows exactly where on the side of the road!).

Other things don’t tempt me at all. I have no interest in feeding a one-arm bandit at the casino in the vain hope of hitting the jackpot. I’m not attracted at all to killing creatures for the sport of it (it would only be a sport, I suppose, if the creatures I sought to kill had the same weapons I did – and I certainly wouldn’t find that attractive).

But I am addicted to my work. Somehow I think that if I just work harder, I’ll succeed  – however I might measure that. I want my efforts to amount to something! So I work more and more and more…

When I fail, that’s the moment when I just might remember that I’m really not in charge here. That God has given me my time on this earth not to fret and worry and be consumed by the things that make for a comfortable, secure life; not to spend my time trying to turn stones into bread, or trying to impose my vision of the way the world ought to be on everybody else – making all the nasty political deals that that would take, or trying to persuade God of the correctness of my petty, personal desires and bend God to my will. God knows, it seems I spend much of my time trying to do these very things.

God, remind me that you want me to strive first for the things of the spirit: love, hope, joy, peace, forgiveness.  Remind me that without these things, everything else turns to dust. And be with me so that when I do forget, you will remind me again. Amen.

Give Us Our Daily Bread

This post is from Alison Hendley, a pastor at San Rafael First UMC:

Satan says, “Turn this stone into bread…. what harm can it do?  You have fasted for 40 days, just a little bread to give you strength, to nourish you, to fill you.  It’s an easy thing to do.”

Yet Jesus returns to God, to scripture, to the word of the one who calls him “Beloved”. Where it says, “One cannot live by bread alone.”

In the Bible bread is used again and again as a teaching:  the loaves multiplied, the disciples were told to take no bread when they went out, manna was provided in the desert to the Israelites, the bread of the Pharaoh’s dream that Joseph interpreted, the unleavened bread that those escaping from Egypt took with them, give us this day our daily bread… and on and on.  This simple form of substance becomes almost a mantra of giving life.

And then Jesus himself says, “I am the Bread of Life.”  One cannot live by bread alone….. but one can live by Bread.

The Disciple’s prayer, “Give us this day” a constant reminder that each morning as we pray the Bread of Life is giving himself to us, all we have to do is ask.  “Please, dear God, give us enough Bread, enough Life, enough Hope, enough of You for this day.  And tomorrow I will humble myself to ask once again.

Jesus knew that he could easily turn this stone to bread, but that to do so for the wrong reason would to turn away from God, from his true self, from the very Bread that he was becoming.  He knew this stone was not the one he needed to transform, but that he had to search out any hardness within himself so that he could fully be the nourishing Bread for us.

This Lenten season we too are asked to search out any hardness in ourselves, so that we may be nourished fully AND so we may be the daily bread for others.  We are commanded to humble ourselves enough to ask each morning to be fed by the Bread.  And we are reminded day after day that the Bread is real…. even as we walk to the suffering of the cross, even as we journey though our own life, even as we try to deny the pain and grief…. the Bread is here, abundant, and enough.

O God, give us each day our daily Bread!

Valentine's Day

This post is by Rev. Kim Smith, pastor at Mt. Tamalpais UMC:

Today is Valentine's Day. The day after Ash Wednesday. In all my years of ministry, I'm not sure I've ever known the two holidays to coincide so closely.It is ironic, to some degree. Valentine's Day is one of the most commercial holidays we celebrate. The number of flowers ordered or purchased for Valentine's Day is only topped by the Mother's Day purchases. Ash Wednesday, on the other hand, is one of the few traditional Christian holidays that has not been taken over by popular culture. Unlike Christmas and Easter, Ash Wednesday is one of those holidays of the church that is still a "holi-day," a "holy day." (Ever seen an Ash Wednesday card in the store?!)  Even as I still wash the ashes from my skin and out from under my nails, having anointed many people last night, I'm signing Valentine cards and creating Cupid-surprise gifts for some children in my neighborhood.

Now, that may be the connection between the two observances: bound by relationships in love.  As I create little Valentine's Day gifts, it is out of real love for those people to whom I give gifts. Last night, sitting in a circle by candlelight with my faith family, I was overwhelmed by the love I have for those people, for my church, for God who had gathered us together.  Imagine-- those folks trust me to smear a bit of ash on their foreheads, trusting that somehow in that connection, we find the Spirit of God in Jesus, in whose name we worship.  Imagine, that we are able to turn over our burdens and cares, write them on a slip of paper, watch that paper burn and have the smoke 'rise up to God.'  Those are the ashes, mingled with the ash of last year's dried palm branches, that graced our faces and hands.  All our cares and woes, ash, turned into blessing.  That is the love that will not let us go.  The love to God who gives beauty to ashes, new life from the dead.

Into the Wild

This post by Katie Trinter, a pastor and member of Tam Abbey:

Luke 4:1-13

I love the story of Jesus' 40 days in the wild. To me it is a powerful reminder that each Lent we are invited to go on our own journey into uncharted territory. The story begins with Jesus "full of the Holy Spirit," being led by the Spirit into the wilderness where he is tempted by the devil.  Today this story reminds me that our journey in God is often much different than we think it should be. The things we crave: control, power, safety, knowing what will come next-- these are often not the things we most need. Just as the Spirit led Jesus into this difficult, unsettling place, God invites us into a crazy adventure into the wild. A place of questioning,where the outcome isn't known. In one of my favorite poems, Mary Oliver writes, " All my life, I have been restless-- I have felt there is something more wonderful that gloss, than wholeness, than staying at home." This lenten journey is an opportunity to embrace our own restlessness as a spiritual practice, to let ourselves dwell in the wildness of our own questions, to step beyond what is comfortable, knowing that God is with us even, and perhaps especially, in the wilderness.

I'm sharing Mary Oliver's poem here as in invitation for all of us to go out in search of wild places and wild ideas; an urging for us to let go of what is glossy, perfect and known, so that we might meet God is a new way.

Whelks

Here are the perfect
fans of the scallops,
quahogs, and weedy mussels
still holding their orange fruit –
and here are the whelks –
whirlwinds,
each the size of a fist,
but always cracked and broken –
clearly they have been travelling
under the sky-blue waves
for a long time.
All my life
I have been restless –
I have felt there is something
more wonderful than gloss –
than wholeness –
than staying at home.
I have not been sure what it is.
But every morning on the wide shore
I pass what is perfect and shining
to look for the whelks, whose edges
have rubbed so long against the world
they have snapped and crumbled –
they have almost vanished,
with the last relinquishing
of their unrepeatable energy,
back into everything else.
When I find one
I hold it in my hand,
I look out over that shanking fire,
I shut my eyes. Not often,
but now and again there’s a moment
when the heart cries aloud:
yes, I am willing to be
that wild darkness,
that long, blue body of light.

Welcome and Week 1 Reflections

Welcome to the journey! In this space we have invited members of the four United Methodist Churches in Marin and members of the Tam Abbey ministry to share their thoughts and reflections on the weekly scripture readings.

What parts of the readings stand out to you? What experiences in your life does the text bring to mind? Does the reading challenge you to live out your faith in a new way?

Here are the readings for Week One:

Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16
Romans 10:8-13
Luke 4:1-13

We will gather on Saturday morning at 10:00 am at the Aroma Cafe in San Rafael to discuss these readings and reflections. Thank you for joining us and I hope that these words of scripture and reflection inspire your own faith walk in this time of Lent.

Blessings,
Kyle Butler (Pastor - Mt. Tam UMC and Tam Abbey)