Third Sunday of Advent 2025, the Candle of Joy

This third Sunday of Advent we celebrate the gift of joy. Think of the pure unbridled, squealing, giggling joy of kids on Christmas morning. That’s the joy we want as we anticipate the greatest gift ever given – God incarnate, overflowing with undeserved, indescribable grace.

We await Emmanuel, God with Us, who from our fears and sins releases us so we can dance a happy dance and make angels in the snow. This is the joy that like the North Star is always there, even when hidden by cloudy skies. Nothing, absolutely nothing in all creation can ever snuff out the joy in the hearts of God’s beloved who have knelt at Bethlehem’s manger.

And so today we relight the candles of Hope and Peace, and we add to the growing brightness by lighting the candle of Joy.

(Light 3 candles)

Please pray with me the prayer on the screen:

O merciful God, we confess our joy often gets lost in the hectic schedule of this season. We have so much to do and so little time. All the festivities are wonderful, but it’s so easy to lose track of what the season is all about. Break through our busyness and remind us of Isaiah’s wisdom that a little child shall lead us. Let us feel again childlike wonder, so joy can bubble up in our hearts, and for just a little while let us lose ourselves in the mystery of your holy incarnation. Amen

Northwest UMC, Columbus, Ohio

Hypocrisy and the 10 Commandments

Those who pass laws requiring that schools post the 10 Commandments in every classroom don’t seem to have read the very words they are promoting. Many of the president’s cabinet are wearing a gold likeness of Donald Trump in their lapels instead of the American flag. That in itself tells you something about their priorities. But my point is that they are breaking the number two commandment in the Jewish Decalogue which says “You shall not make for yourself any graven image.”

I also assume those “leaders” of our nation are also unfamiliar with Exodus 32, the story of the Israelites making a golden calf to worship while Moses was up on Mt. Sinai receiving those same 10 Commandments. That did not end well and neither will this contemporary worshiping of a very fallible human.

Both of these stories remind us of the original sin, and I hate to disappoint you, but it’s not about sex. In the book of Genesis, as part of the creation story, the first humans disobey God and eat the forbidden fruit in the garden because they are told by the conniving serpent that if they eat it “they will be like God.”

That insatiable drive and greed for power has been the downfall of every empire created by humans. Those who sit around the cabinet table in the White House are either ignorant of those biblical warnings or have chosen intentionally to abandon them for the false dreams they have of gaining unlimited power as their reward for bowing down to Donald Trump. They are so blinded by their own greed that they cannot see that the emperor has no clothes.

Happy Motherly God‘s Day

My home of origin in the 1950’s and 60’s was a very traditional patriarchal family. And the church family I grew up in was likewise dominated with patriarchal theology and structure. I can’t go back and change any of that, but I regret that my foundational values and theological constructs were void of any feminine images and qualities.

This reality for me was complicated by a strained relationship with my father. My dad survived a painful childhood with an abusive, alcoholic step-father and a near-death experience as a 24 year-old pilot in World War II. No one had discovered PTSD in those days, but I’m sure my dad was a classic case. He compensated by living by a very strict and literal adherence to conservative theological and cultural norms.

I never questioned my father’s love for me, but it always felt conditional on my living up to his high expectations and obedience to his rules. Theologically for me this meant the patriarchal image of God was filtered through my relationship to my earthly father. It never occurred to me or anyone in my circle of influence to question the God as Father theology I learned at church.

One of my regrets about this is that I felt much more comfortable with and closer to my mother but had no model for seeing her as the image of God. She was a good subservient wife as was expected in the culture we lived in, but there was also a quality of unconditional love and acceptance about her that was lacking in my dad. If I had a problem or screwed up, as I did often, I would always go to my mom and confess because she would calmly help me deal with the situation where my dad would either verbally or non verbally convey disapproval. That’s who my parents were. There’s no judgment in that now, although there was for many years as I tried to liberate myself from the conservative world my dad lived in.

My point here is that I wish someone had suggested to me that God is also an expression of the maternal, loving qualities we rightly or wrongly have attributed to the feminine. Because no one dared to think outside the patriarchal box I lived many years of my life with a fear of a judgmental God. And the larger church and even the liberal seminary I went to in my early 20’s was still a prisoner to the male-dominated images of God.

The entire faculty and 96% of my seminary class were white males. That began to change dramatically in the 1970’s after I graduated as women and people of color were added to the seminary community. That’s wonderful, but I missed it! I worked with several great senior pastors in my ministry, but again all white and male.

Finally in the early 2000’s when I was about 60 years old I joined a congregation with a wonderful, creative, vibrant female pastor. I went on to work part-time in retirement with her and other women, and it has opened a whole new world of theological depth and understanding to my image of the divine as full and inclusive of all of God’s creation. I still am blessed to hear the word proclaimed many Sundays and Holy Days from a unique female perspective. Most of the current devotional and theological blogs, podcasts, and books I have benefited most from in the last few years are created by female writers, pastors, and theologians.

And so this Mother’s Day I am giving thanks for all the women who have helped shape my life. Grandmothers, mother, aunts, colleagues, friends, wives, preachers, political leaders and more. Let’s celebrate that special capacity so many women have to nurture, soothe, love, and bless us with those God-given qualities the world so desperately needs right now.

Jimmy Carter, Servant Leader Par Excellence

I came of age politically in the bloody year of 1968, a year of political assassinations and a violent Democratic National Convention in Chicago. Hubert Humphrey, badly weakened by those events and the increasingly unpopular Viet Nam War, lost that year’s Presidential election to Richard Nixon, who won a landslide re-election over George McGovern four years later. I was 0-2 in presidential election votes.

Nixon was forced to resign in disgrace by the Watergate scandal just two years later in 1974, setting the stage for a little-known Georgia governor/peanut farmer to launch an unlikely presidential campaign in 1975. Elected by a razor slim margin in 1976, that 39th U.S. President was Jimmy Carter who died recently at the age of 100.

I have great admiration for this President who was one of the most honest and compassionate to ever serve as our Commander in Chief. His record of human rights promotion and tireless work for peace and justice while in office and for forty years afterward is an example of faith-based servant leadership that few have achieved; but all of us should emulate if we want our badly broken world to survive the current political, economic, and ecological crises facing us.

Much more eloquent tributes than mine have poured in from all over the world since President Carter’s death, but I have a personal memory in addition to all of his remarkable accomplishments. Jimmy Carter was the first presidential candidate I ever voted for who actually won the election. In fact in my first six presidential election cycles Jimmy Carter was my only winner.

In retrospect Carter was too honest and kind to survive in the dog-eat-dog world of Washington politics. So he will not go down in history as a very successful President in spite of remarkable legislative accomplishments, significant civil rights and women’s rights actions, and the Camp David peace accords between Egypt and Israel.

I had forgotten that the two things that doomed Carter’s re-election in 1980, the Arab oil embargo and the hostage take over of the U.S. embassy in Tehran, were done in retaliation for Carter’s peacemaking efforts and his compassionate welcome of the former Shah of Iran to the U.S. for medical treatment.

There was also some underhanded dealing by Carter’s Republican challenger, Ronald Reagan, who struck a deal with Iran to hold the hostages until after the election. As I said before, Carter was too honest and kind for political infighting.

As I have listened and read about President Carter in the last week I have been humbled by his faith-based commitment to a life of service in spite of illness and advancing age. He created a new vision of what it means to continue to serve humanity after “retirement” from public service.

He and Rosalyn did more for humanity after the age of 90 than most of us ever accomplish in a lifetime. At the age of 78 I personally have trouble making it through one day at a time, and yet as a cancer surviving octogenarian Jimmy and Rosalyn circled the globe building houses, curing diseases, and promoting democracy.

And in his spare time Carter taught Sunday School for decades and wrote 30 books! How he managed that much writing given his schedule is way beyond me. I self-published one small book 13 years ago and haven’t had the discipline or energy to attempt another one since.

As a pastor I also have great admiration for Carter’s prophetic witness about human rights for women and LGBTQA+ people. He humbly credits his mother Lillian for his inclusive attitude toward all people, and they were both way ahead of their time. Carter was such a man of principle that he left his life-long membership in the Southern Baptist Convention over his denomination’s discrimination against women pastors and leaders.

If anyone has ever deserved to hear the words, “Well done, you good and faithful servant,” it is James Earl Carter, Jr., humble peanut farmer, 39th President, and exemplary servant leader. As I begin 2025 one of my goals is to in some small way live a life worthy of Jimmy Carter’s example.

Fourth Sunday of Advent, Love

As we have imagined a home for the Holy this Advent we have laid a foundation of Hope; built four solid walls of Peace; and opened the doors and windows last week so Joy can be shared with the world.

Every home needs a source of heat on cold December days, and so today we light a fire of Love in the fireplace of our humble home.  The Love we celebrate at Advent is God’s eternal, unconditional love that nothing can ever overcome.

In every generation there are Herods who try to snuff out God’s Love, but those forces of evil never win.  They can huff and puff all they want, but no hurricane of hate will ever blow down the home for the Holy. 

And so today we light this final candle, the candle of Love, to remind ourselves that nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

Let us pray:

O Emmanuel, we give you thanks and praise that you love us, even when we are selfish and undeserving.  You are with us always like a guiding north star to lead us back home when we are lost.  You wrap us in your love when we are afraid.  You restore our hope when our faith falters.  You alone can give us the peace that passes all understanding.  You give us all these gifts wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger, and our hearts are filled with Joy.  Remind us again to open the doors of our hearts so the Holy Love that came down at Christmas can dwell within us and overflow into our broken world.  Amen

Northwest UMC, December 22, 2024

Why I Vote the Way I Do

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.

Faith: Alive or Dead?

“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.

Faith Like the Birds

In this frigid cold snap we have had in Ohio recently I have been filling our bird feeders every day, and the cardinals, blue jays, woodpeckers, sparrows, and the whole wonderful diversity of our feathered friends have flocked to our yard as soon as I finish. How they communicate so quickly that it’s feeding time is a mystery to me, but they do; and I’ve decided we have very biblical birds in our neighborhood.

You see, the birds don’t ever leave food on the table or let the seeds that fall on the ground go to waste, and that has reminded me of the story in Exodus about God providing manna/bread from heaven each day to feed the Hebrews in the wilderness. As usual the Hebrew people are complaining to Moses that he has brought them out into the wilderness to starve. They say they were better off as slaves in Egypt. When Moses shares their concern with Yahweh this is the response he gets: ”Then the Lord said to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not.” (Exodus 16:4) 

And God delivers on that promise, but the test is that God through Moses instructs the people to only gather enough of the manna for that day’s needs and not to try and store some up for another day. God is testing their faith to see if they will trust that each day the promise will be fulfilled again. That’s why when Jesus teaches his disciples what we now know as “The Lord’s Prayer” we are instructed to pray only for “our daily bread,” and not for a whole week’s worth. To do so is the difference between a mindset of faith in God’s providence and a scarcity mentality where we hoard more than our share of life’s resources for fear that we will run out the next day.

And that’s the way the birds in our yard live. They don’t leave any bird seed in the feeder for tomorrow because they trust that I will be faithful to meet their needs each new day. As you will see if you read the rest of the story in Exodus 16 some of God’s human children aren’t quite as trusting. And since I don’t speak fluent bird it may be that my feathered friends do complain when I’m late filling their feeders. They are much earlier risers than I; so I don’t pretend to be as faithful as God, but I can tell by the way they flock to the feeders whenever I fill them they are very grateful. And I am grateful to them for reminding me to be satisfied with my daily bread. 

Renaming the YMCA?

One of the few benefits I’ve found of being old is a feature that comes with many Medicare Advantage plans. Silver Sneakers is a program that pays for access to many gyms and exercise facilities as part of one’s health insurance after the age of 65. Insurance companies benefit because people who exercise are healthier and have fewer claims for medical bills from their insurance. And, of course, having access to places to work out benefits senior citizens.

My wife and I have enjoyed Silver Sneakers since we went on Medicare 12 years ago. We are fortunate that with Silver Sneakers we can use 4 different YMCA’s and another gym that are all within 15 miles of our home, and we often decide which one to use depending on what errands or other trips we need to make on a given day. We’ve even been able to use our Silver Sneakers membership to workout when we are traveling.

Having said that I want to give a shout out to my favorite place to workout. My go to exercise since I had back surgery two years ago has been to swim, and my favorite pool is at one of our local Y’s in the nearby suburb of Hilliard, Ohio. It has become my favorite because of very friendly staff who call me by name and make me feel very welcome whenever I walk in. I also like the temperature of the water in their pool, about 82 degrees. But there’s something else I have come to appreciate very much about our Y, and that is the diversity of the staff and those who use that facility.

On any given day at the Y I see several people of different ethnicities. There are Asian Americans, African Americans, Muslim women in hijabs and some in berkas, either working at the front desk or often using the pool by themselves or with their children. The first time I saw two of these women get in the pool fully clothed in berkas and hijabs I must admit I was a bit taken aback. But it has become a common sight now. Recently a new sign was put up by the deep end of the pool warning of the danger for those who can’t yet swim. What struck me about that sign is that it is written in four different languages.

During the recent holiday season I was also pleased to notice that in addition to a Christmas tree in the lobby area there was a Menorah on the counter where members check in. I like the diversity and inclusive message all those things communicate. But here’s the irony in all that. YMCA originally stood for “Young Men’s Christian Association,” but it has obviously outgrown that name. Many of us who workout there are certainly not young, more than half I see are not men, and as I’ve demonstrated above the membership at our Y is certainly much broader than “Christian.”

I’m not proposing a name change. I happen to enjoy singing the YMCA song. I just find the diversity there a bit of good news in a world that needs all of the positivity we can get. So my hat is off to the Hilliard Y and all who help create the hospitality and inclusivity it represents.

It’s fun to play at the YMCA!

Practice Gratitude, Part 2

[Note: This post was written on January 2 but not posted until January 4. It will make more sense with that timeline in mind.] My year of practicing gratitude literally began with a tough challenge. For almost all of my adult years the new year has begun with watching the iconic ball drop in Time Square. Thanks to my own and our cultural addiction with football, 2023 was different. Along with a group of friends I watched a different ball drop this year—a ball that will linger in Ohio State fans’ memories as “wide left.” 2023 was literally just a few seconds old when what would have been a game winning field goal over #1 Georgia sailed like a wounded duck far left of the goal post.

That was almost 36 hours ago, but today as I read several articles about the game in today’s Columbus Dispatch I relived that moment and the frustration of a controversial call that dramatically affected the outcome of the game. I should not have subjected myself to that memory, but I was unable to let it go.

For me, that is a prime example of my biggest obstacle to practicing gratitude. I mentioned one of my mentors, Dr. Bill Brown, and his rhetorical theory called attention shifting in my last post, and this is exhibit A for 2023. In the larger scheme of problems on the world stage or even in my personal life the outcome of a silly game should not be my prime focus. The Peach Bowl is over and done. My dwelling on a terrible call by the refs does not deserve the amount of my attention I am choosing to spend on it. And it is a choice. I can shift my attention to a whole host of things that deserve my attention so much more if I choose to do so. [Remember, I wrote this a few hours before the near fatal football injury to Damar Hamlin, but that tragedy underscores in spades that all football games and other athletics must be kept in proper perspective.]

Notice I did not say that this is a simple or easy shift to make. The local media, my friends, and my social media are full of conversations about the Ohio State game. It is not easy to shift my attention away from all that chatter, but it can be done. I can choose to not read about the game. I can literally switch the tv channel when discussion of that game comes on. Unfortunately I don’t have a remote that can switch the channels in my brain when I think about that loss or my own aches and pains, or other negative and depressing problems in our world. But attention switching is a skill that I can learn if I choose to do so. And making practicing gratitude my priority for 2023 is step 1 in that process