D'OH!

I am not always very bright. My mom will attest to this. Critical thinking is not my forte. Heck, it's not even my three-te.

A case in point is a discussion we've been having at Trinity about developing a Spanish service and nurturing a Hispanic ministry at our church. For anyone who doesn't know. more than 1/3 of Aurora's population is Hispanic, as of the 2000 census. I grew up in the Southwest, but I never found businesses, even Mexican restaurants, where people didn't speak English in Arizona. But when I moved here, Paul and I went to a local Mexican restaurant, and the menu was in Spanish; the waitress only spoke Spanish, and we were the only table of people speaking English. So, it makes sense that our church would offer Spanish language services, given that our neighborhood is full of people who speak Spanish; we're already offer immigration services and have contact with people in the Hispanic community.

That's what someone might think. It's not the first thing that came to my mind. And it's not the first thing that came into the minds of people I spoke to about starting a new service. A lot of us were pretty defensive and had a lot of questions. Who would run the service? Our priest doesn't speak Spanish. If we have another priest come in and do the service, would we have to pay him? Well, he'd volunteer at first. What about other costs? Wine and bread, bulletins, prayerbooks, musicians? And how would these new folks blend in with the rest of the congregation? And what happens if there get to be so many Spanish speakers that the current congregation gets squished out? What then???

It might seem that we jumped to some apocalyptic thinking, but the UNKNOWN can do that. We don't know all that might happen. It could be that we'd give it a shot, and it would fizzle. That happened when in the 1980s the priest tried offering Spanish services. So a meeting was arranged in February for members of Trinity and the other Episcopal church in Aurora, St. David's, to meet with Rev. Pedro Lopez and Bishop Scantlebury about starting a Hispanic ministry at one of our churches. We asked questions about how this might work, what the costs might be, and were told about what a church in Elgin is like since starting a Spanish service. That service grew to two services, and now the Hispanic community is larger than the original congregation, but no one has been squished out. But the vibe the Trinity folks had was not positive. Some of us were skeptical that doing this work would sink our foundering financial ship, that we don't have the resources, that there isn't the people-power to pull it off.

I talked to several people about this late last year, and after the February meeting, I spoke to some more. I didn't get a lot of positive feedback about the idea of moving forward. Only one person said she might be interested, and then only in attending a service, not in helping getting things going. When the issue came up at our last vestry meeting in February, I retold the conversations I had had with people. It was obvious Fr. Charlie was disappointed, and he said he'd heard some very positive feedback from folks. Then another member, Rob, brought something forward.

Rob pointed out that Jesus called his followers to open their doors to people who didn't speak their language. He called them to minister to the strangers in their land. Paul went to people who weren't Jews and called them into the circle of Christ's love. Again and again in the Bible, God has His chosen leaders go to the people who are in the most need and who happen to be outsiders to the original community of God's people. Rob also said that we need to move forward with our hearts, trusting in God, not letting our rational brains take over.

I went home with Rob's words running through my head. And I thought about one of the readings we've studied in January: God calling Moses to serve His people. Moses was an outsider since he had been raised by the Egyptians, even though his genetics tied him to the enslaved Jews. We've had a lot of readings from Paul's letters, and we've talked about Paul serving Gentiles, people who weren't Jews. Before I went to bed, I prayed to God to open my heart and get me out of my head and its doubts.

I got up in the morning and had thoughts about others in the Bible we've been reading about saying, "No," to God because they thought they didn't have the right skills. God said to Jeremiah, "Do not say to me, 'I am only a child.' You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you." Isn't that what's happening here? I am telling God, "No, we don't have the resources for this new project," without trusting that if we move onto that path, He will provide what we need. By this time, I was driving to work, and said to God, "Okay, I'm getting it."

My first task at work that morning was to observe and write up an evaluation on a part-time teacher at a satellite campus of my college. The class had read an article titled "The Christian Paradox: How a Faithful Nation Gets Jesus Wrong" by Bill McKibben and they were talking about his points about Christian hypocrisy. The teacher also showed a PBS video about an Episcopal family and their church, and the work the church and family did to fulfill God's calling to them to act as Christ would. The class had a discussion about the hypocrisy of some "believers," and how this family seemed to truly embody the idea of being a Christian. They also talked about the idea that people might do this work for personal gain in the afterlife, but that idea notwithstanding, they seemed to truly act as Christians.

I left the campus to go teach my own classes at the main campus. As I was driving, I thought about Rob's words, about the Bible lessons, and about the video and class discussion I had heard. Wasn't my own action pretty hypocritical? I claim to want to do God's work in the world, and I've even explored being a deacon, and still listen for that call. But here I was turning my back on God's people because of the possibilities it could be harmful to Trinity, and of the work I might have to do to help. I found myself saying to God, "Okay, okay! I get it! I'll change!"

But I also heard God telling me something else. It's not enough to change my mind. As a leader at Trinity, I am called to change the minds of others. I'll be challenging people to change their own minds and give this a chance. The last thing I heard God telling me is that support doesn't mean that I have to do all the work. There are people who want this and who want to work at it. It's enough at this time that I support them with prayers and a positive attitude. There might be a time when more is asked of me, but right now, this is what I need to do.

I ask this of my readers as well. Please pray for our church as we look to grow and open our hearts, buildings, and other spaces to God's people. Please pray that in your own communities, the people who need to be served are being served, even if that means doing some hard work, or being open to challenges and changes.

Lent, God and Dogs

Lent is one of my favorite church seasons, probably second to Advent. There's someting about the anticipation of what's coming that's even more exciting than the final event. When I was a kid, I thought Christmas and Easter were the two best parts of being a Christian. Presents, candy, new clothes, and the decorations for both seasons were so exciting. But now that I'm grown up, the waiting is the best, not the hardest, part.

One of the things that I like about Lent is that I tend to be more in tune with my soul and with God. I do things in Lent to remind me of my blessings, and to try to draw closer to Him and His people in the world. I've been participating in Bible Study all year, but this first week of Lent, we had a great discussion about how we find God in our lives, and what unconditional love is. It was a great discussion, so spirit-filled and moving that we ran out of time to go over the Gospel reading, stopping after another of Paul's letters to the Romans.

Our talk about unconditional love had two main parts: that as humans, we have a hard time really understanding it, and that there is one example most of us can use to get some idea of it. We have a hard time understanding unconditional love because we don't practice it well. Even my mom used to say that she always loved me, but she didn't always like me. But the times she didn't like me could sometimes feel like she didn't love me, even if she said she did. And as an adult, I have a hard time loving unconditionally. I love my husband, but if he were to betray me, which I know he would never ever do, would I still love him? And we talked about God's unconditional love. What is that like? Is it the same as my mom's, that He always loves us but sometimes doesn't love us? And what about sin and guilt? He forgives everything we are truly sorry for, but we can't always forgive ourselves. So when do we feel forgiven? How can we get to a place of feeling unconditional loved?

The other part of our conversation dealt with the one way we can really get unconditional love in our lives-- through our dogs. One of the women in our Bible study group recently took her dog, Daphne,  to visit at a friend's house, and Daphne was attacked by another dog. She had to get stiches on her neck, and she was hurt pretty badly. My friend felt terrible, full of guilt that she hadn't protected Daphne, that she had taken her to a place where she got hurt. But when Daphne got out of the vet's office, she was so happy to see Kimberly and acted as if nothing had happened. Daphne may not be happy if she ever runs into that other dog again, but she didn't hold any anger for my friend. That is unconditional love.

I had recently recieved a forwarded email story about God and dogs. And angel comes to God to tell HIm that Adam and Eve wanted a companion to keep them company. God makes a dog and sends it to them. But then the angel saw a change in the couple. They became haughty because the dog adored them so much. He went back to God and made a report about his concern, and so God sent Adam and Eve a cat to keep them on an even keel. The story ended with a line about the cooincidence that dog is God spelled backwards.

So it's Lent. And we're in a time of waiting, a rather sad time of waiting. We are waiting for Christ's crucufixtion which will wash away the world's sin. We are waiting for His rising from the dead on the third day. And this is the greatest form of unconditional love, to be afraid of death, but to go through it anyway to save others. Even to save people who will turn away, who will mock, who will waver back and forth about the reality of what He has done.

But we aren't the only ones waiting. I'd like to make an analogy here, another dog story, so bear with me. Our dogs, like most dogs, love it when we come home. There have been times when we've been gone for 12 hours and come home late at night, and when they get out of their kennels, they are so happy all they can do is bark and wag and lick us and jump up to get close to us. But, they have the same reaction if we're gone for five minutes. There have been times I've come home just as Paul is pulling out of the garage, and when I get upstairs, knowing the dogs have been kenneled all of two minutes, their reaction is the same as if I was gone all day.

We wait for God, but He is waiting for us. We go through our lives, knowing that someday we'll meet him. But we don't always focus on that meeting. When people talk about heaven, they talk about meeting deceased family and friends, or famous people, or seeing the wonders of Heaven. But what about meeting God face to face? And won't He be as happy to see us, in His unending love, as those silly little creatures who love us from their wet noses to their wagging tails? I'm not saying God will be jumping and planting wet kisses on our faces, but wouldn't you imagine He'll be happy to see you, a person He made, and loved, and saw live a life while He walked unseen beside you? And in our Lenten waiting, isn't that what we should be joyously waiting for, to meet Him in the end?

I pray that in this long season of prayer and contemplation, we remember what and whom we wait for, and who waits for us.

BIG Questions

You would think doing a 45-60 minute weekly Bible Study, our little group of 9-10 people would only have time to read the three readings coming on Sunday, touch on some semantics in interpretation, clarify some confusing passages, comment briefly on connections between the Old and New Testaments and Gospel, and say good bye as we refill our travel coffee mugs.

Yet, it seems as each week goes by, we keep layering on deeper and deeper questions. These questions have no answer, and even if they did, each of our answers would be very personal. We keep coming back to them again and again. "If God called me to His service, what would I say?" "If I encountered God, would I know Him? And what would my reaction be?"

There all kinds of little stories about these questions. There's the man drowning in the sea, praying to God to save him. A boat comes by to offer help, but he doesn't take it. The same thing happens again. He finally drowns and dies and goes to heaven. When he gets there, he asks God, "Why didn't You save me?" And God asks him back, "Why didn't you get into one of the two boats I sent?"

There's a song along these lines too, that Jesus is the carpenter on the roof, the woman begging for food on the street. Stories like this abound, but they are like any other cliches in our lives. They are so overused they are meaningless, or close to that. So when we ask these questions in our Bible Study, really ask them, we all sit silently. Someone might say something about reacting the way most of the people in the Bible do, saying they aren't worthy, that they aren't the right person for God's work.
For example, Moses, when God comes to him on the mountain, says he can't do His work, and doesn't feel okay with things until God says He'll be there to help him, and will give him the right words. Isaiah doesn't think he's worthy of God's work until the seraphim touch his lips to cleanse him of his foul words and thoughts. There are more stories like this of people saying they aren't worthy, and not feeling good about God's calling until they are reassured by God. But there's also the story of Jesus telling the rich man to sell his belongings, leave his home, and come follow Christ. And the man can't bring himself to do it. Where would we be in these stories? What would it take to convince us?

This coming Sunday is Transfiguration Sunday, and the Gospel reading is from John, retelling the story of Jesus meeting Moses and Elija on the mountain, and Peter and two other disciples see the three men in their blinding glory. Peter says to Jesus that they should make three tents for the men to stay in, and as he speaking, a cloud comes over them, and God tells them, "This is my son. Listen to him." This is as close to a Stooge-esque slap on the back of the head as Peter gets. It's not like Peter didn't see Jesus walk on water, cure the blind, make ten loaves and fishes into hundreds. But even this late in the game, Peter has to be reminded there's a plan, and Peter needs to shut up and listen. So even when we decide to follow Christ, sometimes we forget who's doing the leading. And we manage to make mistakes and speak without thinking.

So what if seraphim come to me one Sunday as I sit praying in church with their strange triple sets of wings? What if I'm out for a hike at Starved Rock and a cloud comes over me and I hear God command me to do something for him? What if I meet Christ on the street, or my office, or he darts in front of my car? My tendency is to say that none of this will happen.

But then again, I know God has asked me to reconnect with Him and rescheudle my life around His call to me. And I've done it. He has called me to teach, and I'm doing it. He has asked me to love people that I find very challenging at times, and I keep working at it. Every year, He sends students my way that I have a hard time seeing any trace of Christ in their hearts, but I look and look again. I am not transfigured into a glowing white creature like Moses was, so bright that people asked him to cover his face with a cloth so they could be around him. I probably am more like impetuous Peter who says the dumbest things without thinking about them, or rushes out of the boat to follow Christ onto the lake, and then panics in Wile E. Coyote fashion and sinks.

I think most of us are there. We strive to be the best we can be, and find we fall short. We listen and listen for God's call, but sometimes we don't like what we hear, or we're listening for what we want to hear. Again and again the Bible tells us people are like children and sheep. Tell a four year old you might take her to Dairy Queen, and an hour later, she'll claim, "You promised!" Ask a ten year old boy to clean up his room, and it's like you've spoken to a wall. Sheep are great at following, but left ot their own devices, they will eat things that aren't food and make themselves sick, get lost, get stuck in bushes and rock outcroppings and hurt themselves.

Thank goodness God knows our nature and loves us anyway. He knows he's like a parent who has to say things over a thousand times before it sinks into our heads. He knows he has to ask, and ask, and ask, and ask, and maybe He'll get from us the answer He so wants.

Prayer in Devastation

It has been almost a month since the earthquake in Haiti. I keep hearing news on NPR about food and medical supplies still not reaching those who need it. I hear friends talking about how Americans are trying to take children out of Haiti to adopt them before anyone is able to see if the kids still have family alive. Even my students, who usually aren't very talkative about current events, will bring up the misery Haitian people are enduring.

Like the aftermath of Hurrican Katrina, or the civil wars in Liberia and Uganda, the misery of rebuilding in a ruined land will fade from Americans' consiousness. We have given a lot of money to the American Red Cross, to the celebrity telethon, to the banner ads giving text message codes that have run at the bottom ticker lines of ESPN and CNN. But even all the money in the world won't fix all that's wrong in these places, especially those that are in countries that lack the infrastructure to have long-term political stability that rebuilding requires.

Our Sunday bulletins at Trinity include leaflets for Episcopal Life Weekly. You can download current and past issues here. The past month's have all been focused on Haiti. But the one for Jan. 31st noted not just Haiti, but the countries and problems I mentioned above. And at the end  letter, The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church and author of the letter, states, "Dollars are needed, but that need is secondary. There is enormous hunger for, and pride in seeking, self-sufficiency." This can only be achieved through faith, prayer and trust. These are much harder to achieve than shoveling away rubble and putting up new schools and houses. It takes the work of humans who are hurt, poor, unsure, and unstable.

Please pray for all countries that are suffering from both human-made and natural disasters. Pray for the children who will be the ones to inherit their homelands. Pray for their leaders to see the best ways forward. Pray for physical, mental and spiritual healing. Pray for God's all-encompassing love and understanding to guide all people to His heart and soothing touch.