Author: Steve Harsh

Steve Harsh, Ph.D., M.Div., is a pastor, teacher, and writer who uses the creative power of narrative to promote moral and faith development as the foundation of his preaching and teaching. Steve has been a pastor to six United Methodist congregations, been the Director of The Interprofessional Commission of Ohio, and taught preaching for twenty years as an Adjunct Professor at the Methodist Theological School in Ohio. He currently serves as a part-time preaching pastor at Northwest UMC in Columbus, Ohio. Steve lives with his wife Diana near Columbus, Ohio. Steve published his first book in 2011, Building Peace from the Inside Out: Stories for Peace Seekers and Peace Makers." It is available from lulu.com

Post Election Grief and Hope

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics, self-care

I had a hard time dragging myself out of bed today as my attempts to deny what happened on Election Day increasingly fail. An old Peter and Gorden song written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney has been playing in my head since Wednesday morning:

“Please lock me away
And don’t allow the day
Here inside where I hide
With my loneliness

I don’t care what they say
I won’t stay in a world without love

Birds sing out of tune
And rain clouds hide the moon
I’m okay, here I’ll stay
With my loneliness

I don’t care what they say
I won’t stay in a world without love.”

That’s how much of me feels today, and I appreciate all the posts from friends that have affirmed the need to take time for self-care and grief. I’m still functioning, even though I feel like a zombie much of the time, going through the motions of life without much energy.

I don’t know how long this grief will last. It is what it is, and it is important to both embrace it and share it with others who need to know we are not in this mess alone.

In due time the sun will shine again. The birds will sing in tune once more, and together we will create communities of hope and love that can sustain resistance and defiance of a world without love.

Vote for Jesus over Leviticus

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics, spiritual discipline, Uncategorized

In a recent blog post (Oct. 9, “Why I Vote the Way I Do”) I told the story of a very satisfying, respectful political argument I had with a friend who holds very different political views than I do. That story ended happily as we agreed to respect and affirm each other’s points of views.

Fast forward to 4 days before Election Day and emotions are running high on both sides of the political spectrum because there is so much uncertainty about how the votes will come out and how supporters of either candidate will respond to the results. I used to love staying up late on election night to watch the returns come in, but I have no illusions this time that we will have a clear winner Tuesday or for several days or weeks thereafter.

Given that context I have been posting everything I think might make any difference in stopping Trump from reclaiming the White House, and my friend from October took strong objection to a post I shared about old rich white men destroying our planet by ignoring climate change to protect their fortunes. I respect her right to disagree, but then she said that I should basically shut up and stop posting because my intelligence level is very low.

I am hurt, angry and disappointed by that attack. I thought we had a better relationship than that. So a few days later I am still pondering how or if to respond. My first instinct was to respond in anger and then hide her responses on Facebook. Then this still, small voice in my head reminded of Jesus’ command in the Sermon on the Mount that we are to “love our enemies.”

That’s probably great advice in these contentious days; so I am praying about what that might look like in this situation.

Meanwhile, the Sermon on the Mount, also was on my mind a lot with regard to Trump’s most egregious threat to date, namely a detailed comment he made on a Fox News interview recently. Trump zeroed in on one of his “enemies within” and suggested former Republican Congresswoman Liz Cheney should face a firing squad for her opposition to his fitness for office.

The closer we get to Election Day the more paranoid and unhinged Trump becomes. But his threats against his political foes come from a logical progression of his abysmal knowledge of the Christian faith he has co-opted to gain political leverage.

I first noticed this basic theological flaw in Trump’s use of the Scripture to fit his own narcissistic values way back in the 2016 campaign. Trump was asked what his favorite Scripture is. His response was “An eye for any eye and a tooth for a tooth” from the Hebrew Bible book of Leviticus.

Had he read the New Testament where Jesus corrects and updates our notions of God, he might have noticed in the Sermon on the Mount this direct dismissal of the Hebrew commandment.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you: Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also, and if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, give your coat as well, and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.” (Matthew 5:38-42)

And if we dare to read the next verses Jesus ups the ante even more.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5 43-44)

The Gospel of Jesus Christ is not for sissies. We who claim Jesus as Lord and Savior strive for a higher standard; so no matter what unfolds after next Tuesday’s election, Jesus needs to win out over Leviticus.

Who Do You Say You Are? Reflections on Identity and Life’s Challenges

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, hope, self-care, Wellness

“I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free.” Nikos Kazantzakis’ epitaph.

Those words from the Greek Author and philosopher, Nikos Kazantzakis, have both inspired and haunted me since I was first introduced to them as a twenty-something seminary student 53 years ago. Kazantzakis, most famous for his novel, “Zorba the Greek,” wrote many volumes full of such deep and baffling sayings. Many of them have stuck with me my entire adult life, and I was reminded of again of them when my wife and I had a chance to visit Crete on a cruise to several Greek Islands last spring. Crete is both the birthplace of Kazantzakis and where he is buried.

 The epitaph in particular has been on my mind recently as my awful, terrible, no good, horrible summer of 2024 has continued right into the fall. [Please read my posts from August 4th and 12th if you want all the details.]. Quite frankly I do know that my little problems the last 4 months can’t hold a candle to hurricane destruction, people living in war zones, people starving from famine and climate change, people suffering from chronic pain, grief, persecution, broken relationships, addiction, homelessness, and so many more. Is it possible for any of us to truly hope for nothing and fear nothing?

My most recent personal challenge is undergoing chemotherapy for a rare form of lymphoma in my blood. I’ve known this day was coming sooner or later since my oncologist has been tracking the slow increase of a monoclonal glutamate in my blood for over a decade. I was personally hoping for later, like much later. But of course this was the great summer of my discontent, and what better time for my IgM antibodies to set off a siren alerting my doctor that something was wrong. This alarm was as loud as our home security system when I accidentally set if off. When the IgM jumped from around 2000 in January to 6500 in July it was such a loud warning that even my denial mechanisms were overpowered.

Technically I have been a “cancer patient” for about 13 years now because I was diagnosed with a mild prostate cancer in 2011. But that cancer has never needed any kind of treatment. Being told I needed to start getting chemotherapy ASAP for this lymphoma was a whole different ball game. One of my first challenges after this diagnosis was a debate within about how I wanted to think about myself going forward. Naming something helps give us some agency over it.

I knew I didn’t want to think of myself as a “cancer patient” because I am so much more than any diagnosis or label or title can convey. We are complex and complicated beings who defy narrow definitions of ourselves. In other words, I have cancer; it doesn’t have me. But knowing what I didn’t want to identify as didn’t answer the harder question of finding a name for this new, added dimension of my being. I toyed with “victor” (maybe too ambiguous depending on how one defines what victory even looks like. Jesus certainly didn’t look like a victor on the cross, but how our ideas of victory change on Easter morning! Don’t like “survivor” either. I want more from life than just surviving. As an aside, it has taken me 6 weeks or so to reach sporadic bouts of peace where I can live into the words above. In fact I hadn’t been able to express those thoughts and feelings like this until I started writing them. One of the many reasons writing is so therapeutic for me.

At those many other times when I don’t feel good at all about my new blood brother, I have caught myself recalling the title of a 1995 movie, “Dead Man Walking.” As time goes on I have had fewer of those DMW moments and more of the positive ones. After writing this, I’m pretty sure that ratio will continue to improve. Because as I wrote this post I realized that I have a simple and maybe fun way to embrace and integrate my cancer into my “Stevenness.” You see, my cancer has a pretty cool name. It’s Waldenstrom, named after a 20th Swedish Doctor who first described it. But Waldenstrom is a very heavy handle for my little cancer. It sounds like a cousin to Frankenstein. So I have decided to christen my cancer with the nickname, “Waldy,” and that seems like a name I get arms around.

One final thought (or two): Throughout this naming/identity dialogue with myself there was a biblical scene that kept coming to my mind. All three synoptic Gospels (Matt. 16:15, Mark 8:29, Luke 9:20) recount the time Jesus gave his disciples a pop quiz. Like all good teachers Jesus starts with a safe, impersonal question. He asks, “Who do people say that I am?” After the disciples respond with several Hebrew heroes from the past, Jesus stops them and asks the zinger: “and who do you say that I am?’ Jesus went from preaching to meddling in a hurry.

Simon Peter as usual jumps in with the answer: “You are the Christ, the Messiah.” Peter knows the right words, he just doesn’t yet understand what those words really mean or will mean to him. Far too many of us today know “who” Jesus is, but that’s only half the equation. It’s one thing to answer the catechism, or recite the Apostles’ Creed, but quite another to know what those words require of us who claim the identity of Jesus’ followers.

It occurs to me that the unspoken question that Jesus leaves hanging in the air for his disciples to discover for themselves is this: “Who do You say that you are?” Have you wrestled with that question recently? Who do you identify with/as? What name do you give to the totality of the amazing God-created being you are? We humans are more than the sum of our parts. Be gentle with your being. But remember to ask yourself occasionally: “Who do You say that you are?”

The answer to that question is never final; it is dynamic and ever-changing. But the closer we get to an answer we can live with, the closer we are to fearing nothing—not even my new friend Waldy or whatever other demons with which we have wrestle.

Why I Vote the Way I Do

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics

Recently I got into a friendly political argument with a friend who helps keep me honest when I get carried away and tune out my better angel. She, my friend, asked me to give her reasons to support my political views, and below is what I wrote to her after a few days of wrestling with that challenge.

“I want to respond to a question you raised a few days ago about reasons to support my political positions. I’ve been giving that a lot of thought, and here’s what I’ve decided.

First, I grew up in a very conservative, Republican family and community in deep red NW Ohio. I don’t think I ever met a Democrat until I left home for college at age 20. I was exposed to a whole new world view at Ohio State and then in seminary, and that broader, more liberal world view made much more sense to me than what I grew up with.

I was converted by that exposure to a new way of thinking and became convinced that the Democratic Party, even with all it’s flaws, is much closer to my theological beliefs about the Kingdom of God than the Republican Party. The Democratic Party as I was coming of age supported Civil Rights and women’s rights, and continues to stand for more programs that help the poor and marginalized members of society than the GOP. Those are the people I believe Jesus calls us to care most about.

The differences between the two parties are more clearly visible now than ever before. I find it hopeless to argue over campaign promises or to fact check either party because they all exaggerate and lie to make their points.

The bottom line is that I vote democratic because those candidates in general are more in harmony with the values I try to live by shaped by the life and teachings of Jesus. I hope that makes sense, and I do thank you for pushing me to think more deeply about these issues and for helping me realize when I’ve screwed up when you call me out. Peace and grace, my friend.”

And the best part of this story? My friend replied with a beautiful emoji shower of hearts.

Prayer for Finding Grace Through Humility

by Steve Harsh, posted in prayer

O Gracious and mighty God, we your faithful children are here again to worship and praise you.  It is so good to sing your praises, even if some of us are off key.  We are so grateful that we are here again to keep the Sabbath holy, unlike those sinners who slept in or are out on the golf course! 

What’s that, Lord?  Oh, no, I didn’t mean to judge anyone else.  I know you don’t want us to do that.  But you did tell us not to hide our lamp under a bushel, remember?  You said we are the light of the world.  That seems like something we should be pretty proud of.  Yes, I remember the story Jesus told about the bragging Pharisee who was glad he was not like the tax collector sitting next to him.

Yes, we know that verse from Micah that says we should walk humbly with you, but that’s hard to do.  Our society doesn’t reward the introvert or the wall flower.  We want leaders in business and government who are courageous and daring.  But in your kingdom we get a much different message that your followers are to be humble servants!  Jesus even taught that the meek shall inherit the earth! 

We don’t see much evidence of that happening anytime soon!  But all around us, Holy One, we see life experiences that teach us humility if we take the time to notice.  When we see a breathtaking sunset or gaze into the vastness of the universe we realize how small we are in a cosmic perspective.  When we’re sick and dependent on others to care for us, we are humbled.  Or when we are greeted by the unconditional love of a beloved pet, or when we hold a newborn infant in our arms and feel the miracle of a new life right there in our hands – there are no words to express the awe and wonder we experience.

And, oh, when we honestly reflect up our own lives – all the times we have failed to live up to our own expectations, let alone yours, we are brought to our knees in total humility.  And from there, with truly humble hearts we are ready to give thanks for your amazing grace and for the gift of your beloved son, Jesus, who lived the life of a humble servant and calls us to do the same.  In his name we offer our hearts and prayers as we join our voices in the prayer he taught us to pray…

Northwest United Methodist Church, Columbus, Ohio, September 22, 2024

Faith: Alive or Dead?

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith Development, Lectionary Texts

“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but does not have works? Surely that faith cannot save, can it? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” James 2:14-17

The epistle lesson for this coming Sunday is the familiar “Faith without works is dead” passage from James 2. How often when I pass by a person begging for money on the street do I feel guilty and worry that my faith is dead or dying? Thanks, James. There must be more value to these verses than humbling me if I am dwelling in a glass house of self-righteousness.

But maybe that’s all these verses need to do. Causing you or me to stop and look in the mirror is really quite an important thing for a spiritual encounter to do. To pause from our busy lives for a bit of self-examination is much more helpful than the far more common way this passage is used, namely to put others down by pointing out the hypocrisy of their holier-than-thou rhetoric and lack of empathy or meaningful service to meet the real needs of their neighbors.

One of the bishops I served under had a memorable way of keeping us clergy humble. He was fond of saying that things always worked out well when he was appointing clergy to serve in the churches under his supervision. He said the numbers always came out even because there “are always as many perfect churches as there are perfect pastors.”

James employs a similar tactic earlier in chapter 2. In verses 8-10 we find these words: “If you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’ you do well. But if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors. For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it.”

Does that mean God doesn’t grade on the curve? That nothing but a perfect score is good enough to live up to God’s standards? No, who could ever stand before such a God? Such a God would never send a Messiah to save us from ourselves. Such a Messiah would never welcome lepers, tax collectors, and all manner of societal outcasts into God’s beloved community.

James is simply warning us that our faith journey is a marathon, not a sprint. James is alerting us to the danger of thinking we’ve got it all figured out or that our work is ever done. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a long way to go to love my enemies or to turn the other cheek. This side of heaven there will always be more neighbors to love, more poor who are with us always. God’s love is eternal and so are the tasks of discipleship for those who have decided to follow Jesus.

Now What? A Car Wreck?

by Steve Harsh, posted in prayer, spiritual discipline

Come on, God. I don’t believe you micromanage our lives, but it sure seems like you are testing my faith and patience this summer. The fun began in May with an ugly family feud that is still going on. June brought my hiatal hernia surgery and recovery from that through most of July.

August’s first surprise literally began just after midnight on August 1st when I got so dizzy I couldn’t walk, stand, or even sit without falling over. That episode is described in detail in my recent post, “ICU Life Lessons” from last week. The upshot of that experience was a 6-day hospital stay for low blood pressure and low hemoglobin, both caused by a bleeding ulcer.

Three pints of blood and two endoscopies resolved those issues, and I have been recovering at home for the last four days, feeling stronger each day. And then tonight the next challenge to my patience came in a flash when another driver sideswiped my car by cutting into our lane too soon, wiping out my side mirror and knocking my front bumper askew. Dealing with that at 70 mph was scary, but we’re grateful that my Toyota Venza is much heavier than her Chevy Spark; and neither one of us lost control.

No one was hurt and the other driver stopped to exchange information with us; so things could have been much worse. But I know all too well the hassles of what comes next as I have to deal with insurance companies again. I say again because the claim on my last accident when someone failed to yield right of way, pulling in front of me and totaling my previous car has still not been totally settled. That accident occurred almost 3 years ago and for reasons beyond my comprehension my lawyer has not managed to close the case.

Dealing with insurance company stress is not what the doctor ordered for my recovery. But I will continue praying for the patience to be content in whatever state I am in. I do believe, Lord. Please help my unbelief. Amen

ICU LIFE LESSONS

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Gratitude, hope, Wellness

Three days ago I quite unexpectedly began a crash course in life lessons I didn’t sign up for. Thanks to dangerously low blood pressure and low Hemoglobin I became so dizzy at home and unable to stand that I earned myself a first-ever ride in an ambulance. That bumpy ride landed me two other firsts —two nights in ICU and a first time blood transfusion.

Quite a day and night, and I’m happy to report that within 24 hours and after some bleeding ulcers were discovered and treated I made a remarkable recovery. I am writing this from a regular hospital room just under four days after it all began and am processing it all by trying to capture and share some of what I’ve learned.

First and foremost I have been amazed and humbled by the outpouring of love I’ve felt from family and friends. The hospital EMT’s and hospital staff have been fantastic. I expected that, but am still beyond grateful for how dedicated and wonderful they all have been, and some of what they had to do for me was quite frankly disgusting.

What blew me away however has been the constant stream of visits, texts, and phone calls from family and friends concerned about my welfare. My dear wife, Diana, has been a rock, and I can never repay her for the hours she has spent with me and so thoughtfully brought me things from home that I might need. I can’t imagine going through something like this without her. I hope I will never take her for granted, but I also know we have pledged to care for each other in sickness and in health. It’s a covenant we made with each other 22 years ago, and one we take very seriously.

But it takes a village to hold up the most loving care giver. And that’s where I am in awe at how large and strong my village is. I am not bragging. I am so humbled because I know I am not as supportive of my family and friends as mine have been for me in the last 96 hours. For example, it is about a 30 minute drive from my house to Riverside Methodist Hospital in Columbus, Ohio. I was not in crisis; so my ambulance ride did not feature high speeds or sirens.

I was however in bad enough shape that I was taken immediately into treatment once we arrived at the ER. That was a blessing, but even more so was that within the first 20 minutes I was in the ER in walked my beautiful 25 year old granddaughter. Her mother called her because she was the closest family member to my location, and she was able to leave work and come sit with me during that scariest part of my journey.

It was a powerful reminder to me of how important a ministry of presence is. Olivia was simply there for me, and her maturity and calm demeanor was contagious. She asked questions I didn’t think of and just was an extra pair of eyes and ears for me.

And much to my wondering eyes other family members just kept showing up. Within my first hour in the ER my village blossomed to include my daughter (who is herself recovering from painful foot surgery) and son-in-law, along with their two sons (my grandsons). And to round out my entourage a nephew by marriage who is a surgical nurse at Riverside dropped by to add his medical knowledge and expertise.

They all stayed around until I was admitted and situated in an ICU room and have all been back or called/texted me every day since. And so has my son who was not able to join the welcome party that morning but came to visit with his wife that first evening.

I knew I was loved by my family before Thursday, but quite frankly we don’t always show that love as much as we could. My family members are all very busy people, and it is easy to feel sometimes like we oldsters are not a priority for them; but they have showed me in no uncertain terms this week that when they are needed the most they are there.

Humility. I know everyone jokes about how you surrender your dignity when you become a hospital patient, and that’s true. The first thing the nurses did when I arrived in the ICU was remove every stitch of the clothing I came in with. They wiped me down with baby wipes, and I use that term because I felt like a helpless baby. And that feeling came through even more strongly that night when my bowels did their thing all over me and my bed before I had time to even realize what was happening.

The staff calmly cleaned me and my mess up as if they do it every day, and likely they do. And then it happened again a few hours later, and I was really embarrassed. When I apologized they simply said, “that’s what we’re here for.” What gracious and loving servants!

We are all just a minute away from such a reminder of how interdependent we are. Being helpless and needing assistance with even the most basic of bodily functions is nothing to be embarrassed about. It is part of the cycle of life and our human condition.

I know that my situation here has been nothing compared to people who are battling life-threatening diseases and injuries, but the lessons are similar. I also know I am very privileged to have access to excellent medical care which far too many of my fellow citizens do not have. Those are the sisters and brothers we all have who need us to be their advocates and village members who demand a just and universal health care system.

We are our sisters and brothers keepers, and I will emerge from my experience not just healed of my physical symptoms but with better empathy and awareness of how I can pay forward the wonderful care I have received.

Thank you my dear village.

Political Violence Must Stop

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics
My high School 60th Class Reunion

Last Saturday was one of those good days, until it wasn’t. My 1964 graduating class (pictured above) held its 60th reunion at lunch time in Wapakoneta, OH, my hometown, which is about an hour away from my house under normal conditions.

I had my usual problems with inertia when I woke up, you know “a body at rest tends to stay at rest.” That combined with a home maintenance issue I needed to tend to and road construction delay made me about 30 minutes late arriving at the reunion.

As the only clergy person in our class I normally get asked to deliver a prayer to begin the program at our reunions. And I had prepared a prayer (which I have posted separately). I didn’t get to offer my prayer since I was late and learned that someone else had prayed so lunch could begin on time – which is a good thing, to remind everyone that lay people can pray just fine.

I enjoyed visiting with my classmates, learned that many more had died or were in failing health than when we met five years ago. Maybe that reminder of our mortality made us more willing to talk. At least it seemed our conversations were more open.

From the reunion I drove a few miles further to visit an aunt and a cousin who live now in an assisted living/nursing facility. I had good visits with both of them and a good trip home listening to an audio book as I drove.

Because I was listening to a book I did not hear the news of what had happened to former President Trump in Pennsylvania until I turned the TV on later that evening.

If you know me at all you know that I am no fan of Donald Trump. But the news that we had another act of political violence sent me into a deep depression. I was and am glad that President Trump was not hurt any worse, but this recurring nightmare is getting really old.

I’ve lived through at least nine political assassinations or attempted ones. (JFK, MLK, RFK, George Wallace, Ronald Reagan, Paul Pelosi, Gabbie Gifford, Steve Scalise, and Donald Trump). That’s in a 61 year span or on average one every seven years! Our insane love affair with guns is literally killing our dream of democracy.

My funk lasted all day Sunday as I watched all the news I could stand about the assassination attempt. And then the sun did come up again, and I felt better this morning (Monday). Life moved on, and I decided to watch less news and refuse to let my emotions be controlled by all those things I cannot control or impact.

My resolve was sorely tested. Another of Trump’s hand-picked judges dismissed the classified document case in the morning and by afternoon we learned that Trump’s Vice President pick is a senator from my own state. J.D. Vance, in my opinion, was the worst of the three final apprentice candidates on Trump’s list.

Vance has out hypocrited all the other hypocrites by moving from one of Trump’s most vocal critics in 2016 to sucking up so much that he is now Trump’s chosen running mate. Moreover Vance was one of the very first to fan the flames of violence on Saturday by saying that Biden’s rhetoric was directly responsible for the attempt on Donald Trump’s life.

At a time when calling for peaceful and respectful conduct is so badly needed Vance’s comments were like throwing gas on a fire already on the verge of uncontrollable. Vance is more radical than Trump on reproductive freedom; he is opposed to helping Ukraine in her life and death fight against Putin.

Vance is a terrible choice, and I must stop now before I drag myself down again into the pit of despair.

If you are one who prays, please do so for our broken country.

Overdue Apology Update

by Steve Harsh, posted in Gratitude, self-care

This is a quick follow up to my post from July 9 (“A Long Overdue Apology”) which is about one of my juvenile dating blunders 60 plus years ago. Especially for my high school classmates who inquired about that situation at our class reunion last Saturday – here’s the rest of the story.

I did decide while at the reunion to apologize to the woman I had disrespected on that long ago date. To my relief she remembered the date but did not remember my bad behavior and graciously assured me I need no longer worry about that incident.

The interesting thing that ensued during our conversation was that she shared her story about apologizing to her brother for a time when she had treated him badly. And then another classmate joined our conversation and told us of a situation similar to mine where he apologized to a woman he had treated poorly on a date many years before.

I left the reunion glad I had apologized and even happier that my doing so had opened the door for some mutual sharing of our common humanity.