From the Pastor's Study - March 2024

Do you ever hear an inspiring sentence or two from a story and have it catch your imagination? Maybe one inspiring fragment teases your curiosity, and you wonder what the rest of the story might be. This is the way that our story of faith so often greets us. As we delve again into Mark’s Gospel, we encounter this over and over. Mark’s Gospel is so sparse with details. It tweaks the imagination if we let it.

We’ve just begun the season of Lent and the text from the first Sunday always speaks of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness for forty days. Matthew and Luke describe that temptation with depth and soaring details. But with Mark, all we get are fragments of a story: “The Spirit then compelled Jesus to go into the wilderness, where he was tempted by Satan for forty days. He was out among the wild animals, and angels took care of him.” Our forty-day journey in Lent mirrors this time of preparation for Jesus before he would begin his ministry. It is a length of time that occurs often in scripture: forty days for Noah’s ark to weather the flood, forty days for Moses as he received the ten commandments, forty days for Elijah fasting and praying, forty years even for Moses and the Israelites as they journey in the wilderness toward the promised land. That number forty reminds us of all these stories of God seeking to align God's people with God's ways. And so, the early church established a period of forty days of fasting and praying prior to the good news of Easter (they exclude the feast days of Sundays). The time encourages us to consider how we would turn from the ways of the world and turn back to the ways of God.

I don’t know about you, but I know that habits are hard to break and that it might just take forty days or more of trying to realign my behavior. Jesus spends those forty days there in the wilderness with the wild animals and angels serving him. Mark’s text makes it sound like it could be an extraordinary time of sabbath that would realign Jesus with the very purposes of creation. Jesus was to be in harmony with the natural world to spend time with the wild animals, and to come to see and understand how all of creation is beloved by God and created to be in harmony. That’s not to say that all in the desert is peaceful, for some animals relate to others as prey and nights may be cold and long. But I hear in those simple words the possibility of Jesus returning to a vision of creation that is offered in the stories of Genesis, of a garden of Eden where everything existed in relative harmony. What an amazing fullness of time for Jesus to remember who he is in relation to all creation. He’s just heard that he’s God's beloved in the verses before this, and now he learns what that means in relation to creation itself. What would it mean to ground ourselves in remembering who we were created to be so that we could say a holy yes to the ministry and the path before us?

We live in a world where it seems that we are encouraged to forget who we are. We are pulled in all kinds of ways by temptations. We are swayed by people assuring us that if we just believe as they do and do what they do that we will be “right.” Mark offers those few words that can draw us back to the vision God had at the beginning of creation, so that when Jesus proclaims God's kingdom, it’s not just a kingdom that is for us as humans but rather one that includes a different way of being for all that is.

As we continue our Lenten journey, may we keep being shaped by remembering who we are, and whose we are. May we learn to live that vision of God's creation as we step out into our ministry in the world. May we nurture a renewed vision of who we are so that we are prepared to proclaim God's good news of Easter for all of creation!

From the Pastor's Study - February 2024

It was bitterly cold and much too snowy as we gathered this year to remember the legacy of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. For many years now we have gathered at Cedar Community to worship, sing, and pray as we remember a dream that would call our nation ever forward toward greater love and unity. I have often been outspoken about our remembering that MLK was an ordained Baptist minister, the son of a minister, with an exceptional theological education. The reason I am keen to point that out is that the teachings of Rev. Dr. King were deeply rooted in religious teachings. Even his adoption of methods of non-violent protest were rooted in the practices of Mahatma Ghandi who saw the practices of satyagraha (truth-force, active non-violence) mirrored in the example of Jesus. At the roots of our faith is this extraordinary call to let love and truth and justice roll down like mighty waters in the transformation of the world. These days it seems that it’s cold enough that all water is frozen… and in many ways that call to ongoing transformation is also deeply challenged.

We have entered the Season of Epiphany when we celebrate the revelation of God's love living among us in the flesh. Our church year once again begins with the proclamation that God's kingdom has come near, that we are to repent and believe the Good News. Those words are so familiar and perhaps comfortable to us as Christians without our thinking about what they mean. For us to repent, for us to live in the Kingdom that God proclaims, should really be continually challenging us be as motivated as Rev. King. He understood that his salvation was intertwined with that of every other child of God. That is no small challenge. Jesus’ teaching was not merely feel-good spiritualism, it was a challenge to reshape the way that God's love was manifest in the world. We have to remember that it challenged the power structures in ways where they felt threatened enough to feel the need to execute him.

Is it any wonder that between Jesus’ baptism and the start of his ministry that the Holy Spirit thrust him into the wilderness to be tempted and forced into a state of prayer and reflection? Those forty days in the desert will be woven into our journey again soon enough as we begin the Season of Lent. This year Ash Wednesday falls on Valentine’s Day, what an appropriate time to begin a journey of pondering what God's love would look like if it governed our lives and our world.

Rev. Dr. King, Epiphany, Lent, Love… each calls us to reexamine our lives – to look at politics and the news, the ways that we treat our neighbors and our families, the ways that we vote and how we spend our money, the ways that we listen to those with whom we may disagree and love them. Our faith is a call to live our lives differently, to live as God invites us knowing that to love extravagantly changes both ourselves and our world for the better.

There was a graphic that was shared at the MLK day teach-in that I found compelling. It was created by the Interaction Institute for Social Change and The Center for Story Based Strategy by Artist: Angus Maguire to be freely shared. It looks like justice, and to me it looks like faithfulness.

I believe that the weather will change, the snow will melt, and the waters will once again flow in mighty ways… and I believe that God's justice can roll down upon us and through us as witness to the world.

Epiphany startles us with the love of God and Lent gives us the challenge of praying about how we might make it real in our lives so that we too might be ready to faithfully follow in God's radical, challenging, example of love made real in Jesus.

May God bless us in our boldly turning ourselves to God's kingdom ways!

From the Pastor's Study - October 2023

It was good to be gathered together in church as we resumed our fall rhythm. Rally Day had all of this wonderful energy as some people settled back in to their beloved 8:00 a.m. service, and as the kids during the 9:30 a.m. service flooded the front of church with backpacks in hand to receive a blessing and resume Sunday School. It is always good to be gathered together. And after the challenging time of disruption that the pandemic imposed, I find I appreciate these simple moments so much more deeply.

I’ve learned to watch in the simple moments for where I might catch glimmers of the divine. I’ve spent my ministry trying to help others to watch for those same glimmers. I guess that I’ve worn out the phrase “where did you see God today?” and yet the sentiment still seems sound to me. It is the invitation for us to live in the world expecting to encounter God's presence in what we’re seeing or doing or learning. It is one of the reasons that churches approach faith formation in so many different ways. I’ve come to expect that in any given worship setting one person will hear God in a word of scripture, and for another it will be in some moment of music, for another it may be a prayer, and for still another it may be in moment of silence, and for another they may hear God in the process of just keeping the rhythm of showing up, or it may be the fellowship that follows the service. And I know that for me, it’s not the same thing every week. But I’ve come to expect that at some point along the way, I’ll come away having been touched by the divine. That experience is a part of what we’re invited to experience every day.

Elsa shared how one of her friends greets the birds and the bugs and everything that lives and creeps with the simple greeting “hello friends.” I’ve tried it myself now and again and it’s the strangest thing - to greet those bees that are buzzing around the table with the proclamation “hello friends” changes the way that I seem to see and feel about them. And this is what I’ve been trying to cultivate in myself and all of the rest of us in learning to see with eyes of God for years.

We do this at church with each of our classes and our programs. We try to impact the way that we see and live through gathering together in different combinations of community to live together and build a house or to explore God's creation on a wilderness canoe trip. We learn to see with eyes of God in new ways as we decorate the church and lead children through bible stories through drama and crafts and games and our presence with VBS. And we certainly learn to see differently as people work together in the new kitchen to feed the community, or this summer to feed the families and children who came for breakfast and went home with bag lunches to sustain their bodies even as the conversations and connections fed everyone’s souls. This is what it means to be the church.

We share a journey with one another. That journey is one of care and support in times of need. It’s also a journey of learning and growing in our understanding of our faith. And my great hope is that every piece of the journey helps to feed our souls in ways that strengthen our relationship with the love of God so that we may see God more clearly at work around us and within us, and so that we can share that extraordinary grace of God with the world.

There’s a story of a custodian working at NASA who proudly saw their job as helping to put a man on the moon. Often times we may look at what the church is doing to share God’s light. We too are bearers of God-light wherever we go. One little glimmer at a time trying to offer a witness to the power of an unearned, undeserved love of God that is offered for all. We get to humbly open ourselves to see and be differently. 

Shalom, Pastor Eric

From the Pastor's Study - September 2023

A group of fourteen of us has just returned from a week of canoeing in the Canadian wilderness. I’m still basking in the wonder of God’s creation and the beauty of living and working with a community of terrific church-folk! Summers are a time of mission trips, VBS, and canoe trips. This summer we also saw another group who sought to offer meals to students and families who would be impacted by there not being school meals. We’ve enjoyed a summer worship schedule that brought people together in one worship space on Sunday mornings. On Wednesday evenings, Vikar Jakob led a more experimental gathering that encouraged people to worship and share in different ways. There have been so many things happening. Each of those events gather people and encourage us to see the world differently, to see ourselves differently, and to work in a way that more fully embodies the love of God.

            As we move past Labor Day, we will reengage many of the familiar ministry rhythms. Worship will return to 8:00 and 9:30. We’ll resume Sunday school and Confirmation classes, and soon Adult Faith Formation classes. Our monthly community meals will return on September 6th.  A new committee will be inspiring us toward greater stewardship, even as another group helps us to remember and celebrate the care and strength of those who have gone before us for 125 years making Peace UCC the place that it is. All these gatherings are rooted in opportunities to remember what it means to be the love of God in the world.

            The canoe trip sometimes offers a chance to sit with a book in the glory and wonder of God's creation and do some reading. This year I was continuing the book “The Art of Possibility” by Rosamund and Benjamin Zander when I read an old folk story, perhaps a myth, that I’ve encountered as both “The Monks’ Story” and “The Rabbi’s Gift” that captures both what I was seeing in our group living in beloved community, as well as the call to what it means for us to be the church in ways that we already know so well.

            A monastery had fallen on hard times. It was once part of a great order which, as a result of religious persecution lost all its branches. It was decimated to the extent that there were only five monks left in the mother house: the Abbot and four others, all of whom were over seventy. Clearly it was a dying order.

            Deep in the woods surrounding the monastery was a little hut that the Rabbi from a nearby town occasionally used for a hermitage. One day, it occurred to the Abbot to visit the hermitage to see if the Rabbi could offer any advice that might save the monastery. The Rabbi welcomed the Abbot and commiserated. “I know how it is” he said, “the spirit has gone out of people. Almost no one comes to the synagogue anymore.” So the old Rabbi and the old Abbot wept together, and spoke quietly of deep things.

            The time came when the Abbot had to leave. They embraced. “It has been wonderful being with you,” said the Abbot, “but I have failed in my purpose for coming. Have you no piece of advice that might save the monastery?” “No, I am sorry,” the Rabbi responded, “I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you.”

            When the other monks heard the Rabbi’s words, they wondered what possible significance they might have. “The Messiah is one of us? One of us, here, at the monastery? Do you suppose he meant the Abbot? Of course – it must be the Abbot, who has been our leader for so long. On the other hand, he might have meant Brother Thomas, who is undoubtably a holy man. Certainly he couldn’t have meant Brother Elrod – he’s so crotchety. But then Elrod is very wise. Surely, he could not have meant Brother Phillip – he’s too passive. But then, magically, he’s always there when you need him. Of course he didn’t mean me – yet supposing he did? Oh Lord, not me! I couldn’t mean that much to you, could I?”

            As they contemplated in this manner, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect, on the off chance that one of them might be the Messiah. And on the off off chance that each monk himself might be the Messiah, they began to treat themselves with extraordinary respect.

            Because the forest in which the monastery was situated was beautiful, people occasionally came to visit the monastery, to picnic or to wander along the old paths, most of which led to the dilapidated chapel. They sensed the aura of extraordinary respect that surrounded the five old monks, permeating the atmosphere. They began to come more frequently, bringing their friends, and their friends brought friends. Some of the younger men who came to visit began to engage in conversation with the monks. After a while, one asked if he might join. Then another, and another. Within a few years, the monastery became once again a thriving order, and – thanks to the Rabbi’s gift – a vibrant community of light and love.

May we treat ourselves and each other with the light and love, the respect and inspiration, that has the power to transform us and the world. May God bless us with wonder!