ADVENT PEACE

Advent is a season of waiting – not waiting for Christmas, but for Christ to come again. We wait and hope for a Savior to come into a world hungering for peace. We wait for God to set us free from the cares of the world that keep us awake at night. We long for a life that is calm and bright.

But sometimes we look for peace in all the wrong places, or we give up looking at all. We feel trapped in jobs that frustrate us, in classes that seem useless, in negative habits that do not serve us well. We confuse peace with comfort and security.

God’s peaceful kingdom is not anything the world can give us. It is a gift to those who know where to seek it, who follow the right star and listen to the angels instead of King Herod. God’s presence does not spare us from life’s problems, but is a peace of mind available everywhere in any of life’s circumstances if we make room for Christ.

And so today we light the second candle of Advent, the candle of peace, to remind ourselves to prepare while we wait for the Prince of Peace.

PRAYER OF CONFESSION
O Holy one who comes to set the captives free, we confess that for too long we have allowed ourselves to be imprisoned by guilt, shame, fear, anger or hopelessness. We have put our trust in things that thieves can steal and rust can consume, and we are always disappointed. Our souls long for peace, but we have been led astray by false prophets of prosperity. We pity ourselves because of adversity and expect peace to just be provided for us. Speak to us again in the stories and songs of Advent. Come Emmanuel, be with us here and now and help us trust you enough that we can give up our foolish pursuits and find true peace that only comes when we are at home in your kingdom. Amen

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Advent: Hope

As in the days of Jesus’ birth we live today in times of distress and fear. Our nation and world are so deeply divided it is sometimes hard to sense God’s spirit among us. News of violence and suffering bombard us on all sides. The holiday traditions are great, but they keep us so busy we may miss the signs of God’s kingdom right before our eyes.

The Advent season calls us again to raise our heads and be alert so we don’t miss the most important parts of Christmas. Advent is time for us to quiet our hearts and see clearly what we really need from God. We do not long for more stuff that does not satisfy, what we long for are hearts full of Hope that the world cannot give or take from us.

And so today we light the first Candle of Advent, the candle of Hope.

Prayer of Confession: Gracious God, we confess it is so easy to lose hope. Family conflicts, grieving hearts, loneliness, aging, and illness seem to rob us of the things we hope for. The Christmas lights shine into the darkness of December, but they can also be so bright they overshadow the light of the world. We are tempted to trust Amazon to be our deliverer instead of the Messiah. We decorate the halls earlier but fail to make room in our hearts for the Christ child. As we hope for the calmness that surpasses all human understanding, remind us again that we don’t just need a little Christmas; we need to be more like Jesus to truly be people of Hope. Amen

Belated Giving Tuesday

Giving Tuesday is a great idea, but it’s the wrong Tuesday. Why do we wait until after the madness of black Friday (which has turned into an entire black week) and cyber Monday are over to think about charity? In the spirit of Christmas shouldn’t giving to those in need come off the top of our resources instead of the leftovers?

But as they say, “better late than never.” So give today-not because we have to, not because we feel guilty for what we spent on ourselves, but because it’s the right thing to do.

Thanksgiving Prayer

O Creator of all that is, how can I begin to offer thanks when everything comes from you? To list what I am grateful for would exhaust all the time I have and still not scratch the surface. Maybe thanksgiving is not counting my blessings but a way of life that begins with the humility of admitting what I think is “mine” really isn’t.

Why is that so hard, Lord? In my head I know the truth but when fear of not having or being enough grips my heart then I start taking account of “my” possessions instead of simply enjoying what you have shared with me. When I see how easily my stuff, my security can be wiped out by wildfires or floods then the hoarder in me says, “You can’t relax. No matter how much you have it will never be enough!”

My head knows better, but my heart wants to live in the land of scarcity and hide away some extra food or cash for a rainy day. My money lies when it says “In God We Trust.” The truth is I monitor the stock market and buy insurance to protect the things I value most. My calendar and checkbook reflect my true priorities. I find it hard to afford a meager 10% for the source of my very being, but go into debt to “own” the status symbols the world values.

And besides Lord, it’s not easy to have a grateful heart in a world plagued by the ravages of climate-change-inspired storms. It’s not easy to give thanks while protecting myself from the threats of terrorists and racist vigilantes. People around me are dropping like flies from drug addictions and suicide. We are all so controlled by our electronic devices and enslaved to consumerism that there’s just not much time left over to give thanks.

Amid the festivities of the Thanksgiving holidays remind us Lord that it is only in you that we live and move and have our being. May our menus always include generous helpings of humility and gratitude that overflow in abundant sharing with those in need. And may there always be time no matter how hectic the day may be to be still and know who we are and whose we are. Amen

Thanksgiving and Confession

As usual, I approach another Thanksgiving with mixed feelings. Of course gratitude is always good for our souls. Every day should be a day of giving thanks for all the many blessings we have that we often take for granted.  But the Thanksgiving holiday is when we celebrate a particular time when the early settlers in this country, a group of starving immigrants, were saved by the radical hospitality of the indigenous Native Americans who had lived here for centuries.  And if we, almost 300 years later, are called to remember the true history of the founding of our country and not get stuck in the sanitized grade school myths most of us were taught then Thanksgiving must also be a day of confession and atonement . The reality is that the hospitality of the Native Americans was repaid with abuse, deceit and genocide. There can be no real grace or forgiveness unless we face the harsh truths about our heritage.

So it is with humility that we must come to the Thanksgiving table, and the ironic truth is that the very freedom we have to gather and overindulge this week is a sign of God‘s grace. For we do not deserve the wealth and abundance that  so many of us enjoy, but through the grace of God our sins of colonialism and aggression have not brought down judgment upon us. But we will never truly be a people at peace until we honestly look in the mirror of history and take a hard uncomfortable look at our flawed human nature.

As long as we try to live up to the falsehood of American exceptionalism or the myth that we are somehow God‘s chosen people to be a city on a hill we will dwell in some sense, even if it is subconscious, in guilt and shame.

I am sorry if this rains on your Thanksgiving parade, but I am again mindful of that Scripture from I John: “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” But here’s the good news and the real reason we can give thanks this week and every day. John goes on to say, “If we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (I John 1:8-9)

Like you I am thankful for my blessings, my family, my health, but the bottom line is that I am most thankful for the gift of God’s undeserved redeeming grace.

Convicted and Needing Grace

Journaling is one of my forms of self-therapy. I regularly vent, ponder, reflect and sometimes just record things I’ve done or the state of my mind and heart. Often I try out ideas I might want to blog about in my journal and then go back and explore them further and in more “polished” form. But today I just want to share what I wrote last evening about an issue that has been troubling me and messing up my faith journey for quite some time. I may return to this later and share my progress on it, but in the meantime I welcome comments and insights. Here’s what I wrote about 10 pm last night:

“Heard an excellent sermon on I Corinthians 13 today from one of our pastors, Mebane McMahon, and even before she preached I heard conviction in the reading of the text about my own failure to “endure, believe, hope all things.” My anger at Trump and his gang is eating at me and that’s not the Gospel. I remember one of my mentors “Bogie” Dunn talking about people we least want to include already being in God’s house – his example was Nixon and for me it’s Donald J. Trump There was a time early in his term that I was able to pray for President Trump by name but haven’t done that in months now. I have also forgotten to remind myself that I am and he is too a child of God. Something has made him the angry, racist, sexist, dishonest person he is and to try and understand that, which I am sure I never will, is more valuable than just anger and hate at his behavior, no matter how evil I think it is. He is still redeemable – if that is not true then the Gospel is false and we are all doomed. Those are hard truths to embrace but if I want that kind of grace for myself then I have to be willing to affirm and share it for everyone. And that means everyone. “I believe Lord, help my unbelief.”

FOR ONE DEAR SAINT

It was most fitting that just two days after All Saints Day I had the honor of conducting a memorial service for my dear Aunt Ruth. My mom’s older sister, Ruth lived 97 wonderful years, and she lived them with zest and courage to the end. This was what I said about her at the service:

As the oldest of Aunt Ruth’s nephews and nieces I always thought I had an extra special place in her heart. I dared to believe that because I had seniority my memories of her unconditional love and zest for life were unique. Boy was I wrong. After we got the news of her death there was such an outpouring of love for her that I was surprised at how wide and deep her influence. When I thought about it I realized of course that it shouldn’t have surprised me. Her love of life for 97 wonderful years was so contagious that it affected everyone who came into contact with her – not just in her generation or mine, but in great nephews and nieces, grand and great grandchildren. I wasn’t special to Ruth, everyone was!

Let me share a few things from her fan club, aka her nephews and nieces: “Remember a lady who every reason to feel sorry for herself, but never let her handicap and painful suffering slow her down a bit. (Ruth had polio as an infant and walked with a pronounced limp all her life.) She was sassy, feisty, and tough as nails! But also one of the most caring, compassionate, and inspirational people I will ever know.”

Another said, “A lot of good memories of spending time with her and Uncle Fran in Lima. She taught me to sew and love of gardening.”
And another: “One summer we made curtains and a Roman shade for my room at Bowling Green. Because of Aunt Ruth I have made my own curtains nearly everywhere I have lived. She also knew a whole lot about growing flowers and taught me lots of her tricks.”

My own fondest memories of Ruth go way back to the farm near St. Johns. I’d stay out there in the summer before I had any competition from all you younger cousins. Dave (Ruth’s son) and I would play in the woods that was a little way down the road literally till the cows came home – because it was our job to bring the cows in for the night. In reminiscing about Aunt Ruth this week I had an ah hah moment. I used to get horribly homesick as a kid anytime and anywhere I went. It didn’t matter where – at Grandma and Grandpa Sawmillers, Boy Scout camp. It was awful. But what I realized the other day is that I never got homesick at Aunt Ruth’s – and that’s because I always felt at home there.

Her hospitality is legendary. And that never changed. My son and I visited Aunt Ruth in 2010 when she was “only” 89 years young. We didn’t want to impose on her so we offered to take her out for dinner the one night we were there and surprisingly she agreed – but she was having none of that the next morning. When we got up there was enough bacon and eggs on the stove to feed a multitude. That was the visit when she also told us about the rattle snake she had killed recently in her garden.

I’m not sure where Ruth’s name came from. There don’t seem to be any other women named Ruth in the family genealogy, and that’s cool because she was indeed one of a kind. But I am struck by the similarities in Ruth’s life with those of Ruth in the Old Testament. That biblical Ruth is famous for what she said when her widowed mother-in-law Naomi suggested Ruth should go back home to her own people instead of going to support Naomi back in Bethlehem.

That Ruth was stubborn too, and loyal and compassionate. She said, “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die—there will I be buried. May the Lord do so to me if even death parts me from you!”
Wherever Aunt Ruth needed to go for those she loved she went – to Lima, to Georgia—I’m surprised she didn’t move to Iran when Dave and Sue were there! She was there for Fran for all those years even when he didn’t know she was there. That’s love and devotion that we and the world need to learn from her.

She was an inspiration to us all. When I throw myself a pity party because of my aches and pains and all the things my body won’t let me do anymore, all I have to do is remember this feisty little woman who never let any of her challenges stop her from being the greatest daughter, sister, wife, mother, aunt, grandmother, great grandmother any of us have ever known.

She got that love in return from her kids and grandkids – especially from Sue and Dave who cared for her in the last few years and preserved for Ruth and her faithful dog Heidi the independence and freedom that living in her own house provided – way beyond when that was easy or convenient for her caregivers.
I think Ruth’s great niece Laura said best what Ruth meant to all of us. She wrote this tribute right after we learned of Ruth’s passing.

“I don’t even know how to explain how much she has meant to me my entire life. This woman, this amazing woman, was a rock for me. I could talk to her about anything; she was only a phone call away. She loved me the way a person is supposed to love another, without judgement, without criticism, and with her whole heart. I loved her with every ounce of my being, and there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for her.

This resilient woman, who overcame so much in her life, lived so much longer than anyone expected, was so much more to me than a Great Aunt-she was another grandmother to me. She was truly someone who didn’t let anything get her down; she found a way to see the bright side of things no matter what. She was an inspiration to me, of how to live your life, she was always kind to others, never knew a stranger, always offered a helping hand, even if it meant just sharing her vast knowledge. I was unbelievably fortunate to have been able to spend time with her throughout my life, to listen to the little lessons she taught me about life, cooking, gardening, and being a great person. I know that now, she is up in Heaven, with Uncle Fran, tending to the gardens, feeding the birds, and is able to do all the things that age had taken away from her.”

Laura’s words resonate for me in so many ways. Aunt Ruth was like a second mom to me and to so many others. Today we celebrate Ruth’s long and wonderful life, and we thank God for all she was and always will mean to us. We thank God for giving us Ruth, such a wonderful gift to teach us about life, and we give thanks that she is now beyond the pain and suffering of this life in the eternal arms of your loving God.

PRAYER: Loving God, as Ruth welcomed all of us into her home and her heart, we pray now that you will receive Ruth into the arms of your mercy. Raise this dear saint up with all your people. Receive us also, and raise us into a new life. Help us so to love and serve you in this world that we may enter into your joy in the world to come. Amen.

When I was driving home after the graveside service I realized I didn’t say what I should have at the cemetery. I’ve done over 150 funerals in my ministry, but I’m still learning. Maybe it’s more personal because I buried my own father and mother-in-law earlier this year, or maybe it’s because Ruth was such an important part of my life. Or maybe it was because Ruth’s two young great grandsons were at the cemetery and I wasn’t sure I said the right words for them to hear.

I said the tried and true words we usually say at a time and place like that; that the body returns to the ground but we commend Ruth’s spirit to God. I said, “Today we have to let go of Ruth’s hand, but we know God has hold of her hand and God will never let go.” Those are good words, but they border on pious platitudes. What I wish I had said is this, “We’ve celebrated a great and wonderful life today but this part is still very hard. I remember a bitter cold January day many years ago when we buried Ruth’s grandmother. I was a teenager then, but I still remember my grandmother Sawmiller standing there by the grave crying. It was the only time I ever remember seeing her cry. And she said, “I don’t want to leave her here.”

It’s taken me almost 60 years to figure out what I should have said then and what I should have said last Saturday at Aunt Ruth’s grave. “She’s not in that box. She’s not in that grave. She’s right here in the heart of everyone she loved and who loved her back. Her spirit is alive and well in every memory we share, and those memories and her feisty spirit will never die as long as we keep them alive.”