Just a silly little bracelet and a great big scary world . . .

When I was in 9th grade, 'scarab' bracelets were popular and I asked for one for Christmas.  My mother saved her money and bought me a beautiful gold one.  It had precious stones engraved with the a beetle, the ancient Egyptian symbol of luck, rebirth, optimism, and good fortune.
I didn't know anything about that beetle or its symbolism or even that it was Egyptian. I just liked the style for some reason and those kind of bracelets were 'in'. Like any teenager, I wore it for a while, and got bored with it and eventually it got pushed to the back of my jewelry box, replaced over the years by other pieces of jewelry at various times more 'in'.  But, because my mother gave it to me, I always kept it. 
In the fall of 2009, Ted and I visited Egypt while we were in the Middle East with our son, who was working in Dubai. We wanted to go to Israel and the Holy Land, but were told by the State Department that we could not enter Israel with a Dubai stamp on our passport, or vice versa. That kind of restriction of movement seemed really odd to us but is a matter of course in a part of the world wracked by violence and mistrust for millenia. We looked for an alternative place to visit and chose Egypt.
We were there about a week and visited all the wonderful archeological sites in and around Cairo and in Luxor, the ancient city of Thebes.  I fell in love immediately -- with the sand-drenched landscape, with the ancient ruins (some of which go back over 4,000 b.c.e.), with the languid Nile, with the huge, bustling city of Cairo, with the music and the food and . . . pretty much with all things Egyptian.
But it was the people we encountered that I most loved.  They were kind, considerate, and respectful to us as foreigners.  And, no matter the differences (nobody could even grasp the fact that I was a clergywomen and they only referred to me as "Mrs. Ted" -- never by my given name), we found their concerns simply mirrored ours:  to live faithful lives and to love and provide for their children. 
There is something magical and mystical and enticing about Egypt, but mostly -- there is something wonderful about Egyptians.  I found, despite the poverty and cultural restrictions on  women, that it is a fascinating anbd mind-boggling place. I enjoyed every minute of our time there, and would go back in  a heartbeat.
Our hotel, the Inter-Continental, was right across the street from the American Embassy, and only a block away from Tahrir Square, the heart of metropolitan Cairo.
So, in February of last year as the revolution unfolded in Tahrir Square, I began to really root and pray for the people of Egypt that they would triumph, and be able to find a way to make a better future for their children without violence or bloodshed.
I remembered that bracelet in the bottom of my jewelry box, got it out, polished it off, put it on and haven't taken it off since.  It just a small act of solidarity with human beings half-way across the world, a way to remind myself every day to pray for God's peace, and their well-being.
Today, I am looking at that bracelet and praying -- not just for them, but for us. 
I am praying that my Christian faith not be coopted by radical extremists who have no tolerance for the beliefs of others, and who in their zealotry forget that love, mercy and inclusion were the hallmarks of Jesus Christ, and by his example, we know the heart of God.
I am praying that freedom of speech always be balanced by a respect for others.
I am praying for lives lost in the service of our country, and for lives at risk in that service all around the world.
I am praying for President Obama and Hilary Clinton, that they be wise and strong in their leadership.
But mostly, I am praying for the people of the Middle East -- and Egypt in particular -- that in our common humanity, we find the blessedness of peacemaking with one another, and that zealots and extremists on either and any side of a disagreement do not get the last word.
Each little stone beetle on that bracelet is a prayer bead for me these days, and the circle on my hand is a reminder of our connection to all.
I am praying, and will continue.  I hope you do the same.
a.

The Reality of Easter = A Life

We are in the throes of Holy Week, 2012. This Thursday we will gather at 7 pm to praise God and remember the institution of the Sacrament of Holy Communion, as Jesus charged us to when he did it. Thursday of Holy Week is called Maundy Thursday, 'maundy' from the Latin 'mandate' which means "do it!" "DO THIS IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME!" That's what he said on the night before he died.
On Friday, the darkest day of the Christian year, we will gather at 7 pm once again to remember when and how he died with the ancient Tennebrae service of darkness and light. This year we are blessed to be joined by the choirs and members of Wylie First UMC and Cornerstone UMC, our neighbor churches.
In these worship times, we are brought to the very heart of our Christian faith -- by living into the story of how Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God, suffered, died and was buried that we might might learn to live in his name. His death on a cross, by our understanding, means the full measure of "Emmanuel," or "GOD WITH US." It means that sin, suffering and even death itself does not get the last word in our lives -- God does.
On Easter Sunday morning, we celebrate that good news! Christ is alive, risen and present . . . and calls us each as His own to arise from sin, endure suffering with his strength and witness, and not to fear even death itself.
Easter is not a concept, it is a way of life! When he came out of that empty tomb, the entire course of humanity was changed forever. God's power and might overcomes all that we have to face in this world, even and including our willful turning away from God in sin.
For Christians, as I have said many times (echoing St. Paul), if we don't have the cross and resurrection, we got nothin'. Nothin'!
But, because we do have God with us, through the worst of life, in Christ we can claim the BEST of life and life abundantly, and life eternally.
Praise be to God for the gift of life! Praise be to God for the gift of Christ! Praise be to God for the reality that Easter is for each of us. Let us live it accordingly.
He is risen! He is risen! He is risen, indeed!
Allelulia! Allelulia! Allelulia!
a.

March Madness . . .

I think this may have to do with basketball, specifically NCAA basketball. It involves something called brackets whereby one counts down in groups of four (? or so) until winning teams play other winning teams and all are eliminated except one, the winner of March Madness.
Is this correct?
If not, somebody let me know. (And, just so you know -- I'm pulling for Mississippi Valley State because I grew up in the Mississippi. Besides, the Hornfrogs are having their own problems this year, and my other alma maters -- SMU and Mississippi State -- aren't anywhere on anyone's bracket as far as I know.)
I do believe, however, there's another kind of March Madness this year. And its not about fun and basketball and wonderful, dedicated young athletes.
Its about words.
Mean words.
Hard words.
Shout so loud no one can be heard over you words.
Words of exclusion.
Words of control.
Words of oppression.
This other March Madness has to do with all the highly charged rhetoric in the public sphere in the midst of this election year. Anxiety is high. Emotions are high. Frustration is high on all sides. We get that. But when words are used to slander rather than thoughtfully debate, it is a sin. When words are used to denigrate, rather than lift-up, no matter the perspective, it is a sin. When words are used to win at all costs, no matter who is hurt, rather than seek compromise for the good of all, it is a sin.
I don't care how you vote. Just vote.
I don't care who you vote for. Just make an informed choice.
I don't even care what you think about things. Just think -- really THINK -- about things.
And be grateful that we live in such a place and time that we can say what we feel compelled to say without fear of retribution or oppression.
But, when words are unfounded and hurtful, used just to prove a point or to bully, we do not honor that gift called free speech or the blessed souls who have died to protect it, or the Creator who has given us this life in the first place.
Use your voice to lift up, not tear down. Seek what is best for all people and all creation, charged to our oversight. Don't let this kind of 'madness' prevail. And, may the best team win.
See you in church this Lent.
Pastor a.
PS Go Mississippi Valley State!!!!!

Being a Methodist -- Move IT or Lose IT!

What is 'IT'? Well, for United Methodists "IT" first refers to the center of our faith and belief system, Jesus Christ. HE is IT! In the early days of the Methodist Movement in England, (1700's) brothers John and Charles Wesley realized that Jesus Christ must be the center of life for anyone who professes the Christian faith. They were members of the Anglican church, and began gathering with likeminded spiritual seeks, only in an effort to revitalize the Church as they knew it. They gathered in groups of 12 or so, and the first thing they asked each other was not "How are you?" but rather, "How is IT with your soul?" In other words, "how are you doing with Jesus these days?" From these small groups, they developed a way or "method" of prayer, discernment, holy living, and outreach based on the life and teachings of Christ. They began, for instance, to preach and teach not to the landed and the wealth of the Church, but on the highways and byways, in the coal mines and with the poor. Their "method" spread not because it was something new, but because it was something genuine -- real discipleship. This "methodist" movement grew and spread first in England, then to the colonies, then in a free United States, then around the world. This "movement" owes not only its origins, but its source to the one thing that matters: HIM. One of the challenges for our denomination today is to figure out how we can reclaim our status as a "movement" -- that is, people of faith seeking to live out the way of discipleship with all of its challenges, and for all of its calling: to self-examination and repentance, to mutual support and accountability, to the poor, the sick, the dispossessed, those in need in body, mind and Spirit. These weeks in between Epiphany and Lent we are examining "IT" -- in light of our heritage and Mark's Gospel. Come, and see if you are "moved".
Pastor a.

A Baby Changes Everything . . . .

Wonderful song. I think Faith Hill sings the most recent version I hear on 103.7, the "Christmas" channel on the radio. I hear it a lot and it is a lovely narrative ballad about a single, young, teenage mother who gets pregnant. Society is against her. Her fiance is aghast. And, she is terrified. But as the ballad goes, once the baby comes . . . life and her world is changed forever, to the good. Babies in their innocence and complete and total dependence on us, do that. They change life, forever. Babies, once they come, help us know a glimpse of the power of unconditional love, so strong we as their parents, and those who love them, would die for them. No questions asked. Of course, the song is about Mary and Joseph, and Jesus. This little child, born so long ago into such humble and difficult circumstances, not only changed the lives of his reluctant parents, he changed the lives of all in the world who claim him as their own. Our prayer this season when we recall his birth is that we remember our lives have been changed by him -- and remain so forever by the unconditional love of God, who sent him. This God, our God, known in and through that tiny baby who grew to be a man who loved so much, he died that we may know life, and freedom from sin and death. A blessed Christmas season for all, with prayers that the coming year will be the year when that baby "changed everything" for you.
a.

Judgement

Jesus tells a wonderful story about how we will be judged as human beings in Matthew 25, starting at vs. 31. It is the only time he ever really mentions the criteria for judgement -- and he does it in his weird, Jesus-in-your-face way. He talks about separating animals -- sheep and goats. In his time, at the end of the day when the farmers came in from the pastures where the livestock grazed, they had to count the number to see if they returned home with all the ones they had left with in the morning. And when they counted, the separated sheep and goats. I don't know why -- maybe because sheep don't get along with goats. But, sheep are so dumb and stupid and slow, it seems like they could get along with anybody.
Anyway, Jesus the Good Shepherd, has a soft spot for the sheep, I guess, because he beckons them at judgement to come and sit at his right hand. The goats -- well -- they get consigned in another direction, and go off left -- to eternal hell and damnation.
Pretty tough spot for the goats.
But Jesus didn't have anything against goats. Neither did he express love for sheep more than anyone else. What he had a soft spot for is those who recognized him in others -- particularly others who are in need -- the sick, the sad, the prisoner, the hungry, the lame, the thirsty, the marginalized, the alien among us. What the sheep did that the goats missed was, according to the parable, see him in the faces and lives of others who are usually ignored.
This Sunday, Pastor Grant and I will do a dramatic dialogue sermon between one of the sheep (Sammy) and one of the goats (Greta) to get their personal take on the experience of judgement. Advent is traditionally a time of waiting, but not of comfort -- not the warm cuddly kind. It is a time when we have the Holy Spirit confronting us daily in our encounters with others to see if we, too, recognize the Christ in those nobody cares about, has time for, or wants anything to do with.
Come see -- if you are a sheep -- or a goat.
See you in worship this Sunday.
Pastor a.

Hope Floats

I have never understood that phrase much at all. It was the title of an old Sandra Bullock movie which was (I think) about a woman of questionable reputation coming home after some tragedy and trying to get her life together. She fell in love with a local -- played by Harry Connick, Jr. -- and it ended well. In other words, in the midst of tragedy -- there is hope.
Hope is a funny thing. It is what rises up like a clear bubble in the middle of the muck and mud of our messy lives. Hope, at times, needs to be rearranged. In other words, what we hope for is sometimes a bubble that bursts in the face of life's difficulties. But it can rise again, in another form -- usually, more deliberate and more beautiful than we could ever imagine.
This is the first week of Advent and the theme for this week is simply that: Hope. The world HOPES for salvation, and ultimately a savior comes. But we in the world -- those during Jesus' time as well as those of us living now -- have to rearrange our hope. He wasn't who or what was expected, or even hoped for. On the contrary, he was so much more . . . . .
Advent teaches us to wait, hope and expect -- and one other lesson: nobody, ever, gets to take away -- or get in the way -- of our hope.
It ALWAYS floats.
Come, and share this season as we begin to tell the story of the God who loves us in Jesus the Christ one more time.
a.