​At the church I attend I love the current Pastor, and hope he stays a long time.  However, he doesn't seem to have a very high church orientation.  We've been singing Alleluias all through Lent, and now the oddest of all:  During Holy Week there will be a service on Friday night that combines Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.  I won't be able to attend, but from his description I believe he's mostly going to celebrate Communion, then move into Good Friday.  

For me that is painful. I dearly need, and deeply love the time on Thursday to struggle with the Disciples over what he's saying, over what is happening, and over their own responses/reactions to it.  Imagine their shock when he takes a towel and basin, gets down on the floor, and begins to wash their feet.  The actions of a servant!  He talks of betrayal and denial, and with them we must ask, Is It I?  

And that night shows Jesus at some of his most human moments: he prays that he not have to experience this terrible event, that God might intervene in what he knows is coming.  He enjoys dinner with friends, and yet his heart is heavy because he knows he's leaving them.  He wants to be sure he's taught them everything they will need to know.  The knowledge that one of his best friends has betrayed him, and others will deny and flee.  Knowing that they really don't understand what is about to happen, or its significance.  And that sense of resignation when the authorities finally arrive, and he realizes that all he can do from here is just keep walking forward.  I don't know about you, but I've walked that path (to a point) and it is unbearably painful.  

Maybe that's why I really need Maundy Thursday each year, to be reminded that whatever in life I face, Jesus has already been there, and understands what I'm going through.


Loving God, as we prepare again to walk with Jesus through the last few days of his life on earth, let us know that, as with him, whatever on earth we face you go before us and walk us through it.  Even  in realizing that much of what caused his death was his willingness to speak truth to power, let us not be afraid to do the same.  Let us remember that he treated widows, children, the ill. and the unclean as beloved children of yours.  May we do the same without fear of what may come our way.  Let us walk where Jesus walked, and know that as you never left him, so you will never leave us.....Amen.

​I just got a note that a friend died.  I was shocked.  I was sad. My heart went out to her family and other friends.  Then came the correction:  not her, but her mother.  I was relieved.  I was happy.  And then I thought...someone has still died, and my friend, while alive, is grieving.  While my friend is alive and well, joy was not exactly the sentiment called for in that moment.  No matter how many times we experience the death of someone near us, each death affects us in a different way.  Were they ill and/or in pain so that the death is a release?  Was it a complete surprise and everyone's in shock?  Was the person young, with many years still to live, or elderly with many good years and experiences behind them?  Do they leave young children, and a spouse who has to pick up and move on?  Even within all the categories we find our reactions can be different from time to time.

Jesus received word that Lazarus had died.  Lazarus, and his sisters Mary and Martha had been very close friends of Jesus' for many years.  He spent time in their home, they went to see him whenever they could.  Not only that, but Lazarus would have been the male to bring in funds, and care for their income and resource needs, and to protect them.  Even in the US it has been less than 50 years since women were able to get a credit card in their name.  In Jesus' time women without a man would be extremely vulnerable.  Jesus must have been in grief, not only for the loss of his friend, but also for what it would mean for Mary and Martha.  In the gospels this is the only time they mention Jesus weeping.  And probably this is a good response for us, no matter the events surrounding a death around us: to grieve with those left behind.  Not to toss out platitudes, but to sit down and be sorrowful with them.


God, who has lived our lives, and borne our griefs, we lift to you our friend who mourns the loss of her mother.  Wrap your loving arms around them in this time of leave-taking.  We also lift to you others in our lives who are grieving the loss of loved ones, the loss of community, the loss of occupation, the loss of vision for the future.  We pray that you will give us the words to use in those instances, or that you hold our tongues that we may simply sit with those who grieve.  In all things, even in sorrow, may we be instruments of your peace...Amen.

​Sunday morning as I arrived at church I took quite the tumble.  The response of the people at the church was awesome.  Two nurses, four other men, an OT, the Pastor's spouse, and a retired Pastor with his choir robes flowing in the breeze.  They got me into a wheelchair, back onto my scooter, did the requisite assessments, and grabbed an ice pack.  Everyone was helpful, concerned, and on point with their response.  When it was all over, in fact, after I arrived home, I kept feeling as though something was missing in the response.  There was something else I could have used, but what was it?  A hug.  I really could have used a good, comforting, life-affirming hug.  In recent years, in our attempt to guard against inappropriate hugs we have pretty much ceased this method of communication.  Oh, we may now and then give one of those side-hugs, but sometimes what is needed is an old-fashioned front-to-front, or at least arms-shoulders-heads A-frame hug.  People need that person-to-person touch, and I hope we can find a way to swing the pendulum back a bit and recover it.

There was a time in which Jesus was surrounded by people, and yet sensed some healing power had gone out from him.  The disciples mocked him, pointing out the press of humanity all around, but he turned around and found her: the woman who had had a flow of blood for 18 years.  It had separated her from her family, from her community, from her place of worship.  I imagine the encounter goes something like this: he notices her by her down-turned eyes, reaches his hand down and stands her up.  She protests, as the touch will make him also unclean, but he persists.  "Daughter, your faith has made you well," he says, and he wraps his arms around her in a life-giving, reconciling, welcoming embrace.  With that she re-enters society, and begins to feel strong again.  We need to find a way to return to hugging one another again.


Loving God, in response to real concerns in our world we seem to have gone a bit too far trying not to impose ourselves on one another.  The gift of human touch is so important that it truly can bring a sense of healing and power to the one receiving it.  Help us to be the beginning of a movement in which hugs become a part of our interactions with one another again.  Yes, we know we need to be respectful and ask first, but when permission is granted, be with us as we wrap our loving arms around one another to convey your love......Amen.

​Every Sunday I sit in the back of a very large downtown church.  I'm part of the A/V team.  I push the buttons that change the images on the screens, and I change the screens to camera shots when helpful.  On the wall behind me is a plaque that is in the neighborhood of 4' x 6' that lists the history of the church and those who have served it from the beginning.  Many of the more recent ones include pictures, which I love to see as their staff has gone from stern looking men to the current jolly, round white guy and joyful, round black woman.  Their joy is infectious, and they leap off the board.  Sprinkled within the listing of clergy are things like, "Columbia on the Hannibal Circuit", and "Missouri finally a station!"  Missouri UMC is the church.  Interspersed are notes about the '39 merger and the '68 merger.  And yes, there are tags for the splits, too.  Well, the ones that happened within the history of the congregation.

Sitting in front of that board every week gives me hope, and helps me feel some degree of security.  Over the years there have been splits, unions, and changes the original clergy could never imagine.  But through it all the church remains.  Sometimes large, sometimes smaller, sometimes unsure of tomorrow, but always doing its best to live out God's call to make disciples and love our neighbors.  


Loving God, the part of your church here on earth that has been known as United Methodist is in a state of crisis, and covered in uncertainty and insecurity.  We've been here before, just not in our lifetimes.  As we look back on those times we realize that you lead the church, in whatever form it takes, as long as the church still earnestly seeks to do your will.  Wrap your loving arms around us, and reassure us that whatever happens your Spirit will lead us through it, and the church will move forward.  Maybe not looking as it currently does, but looking as you need it in this 21st century.......Amen.

​Every day a Seminary friend sends out to her facebook friends a beautiful picture, usually of flowers in full bloom, or rainbows, something beautiful in nature.  She calls it the "Moment of Beauty".  She has always taken the pictures herself, and she has a fine eye for photography.  A few days ago, instead of flowers in full bloom, she sent a picture of buds.  My first thought was that these were not beautiful, they were just green balls with a little pink showing through.  But then I thought some more, and realized that the beauty was right in front of me: the beauty of possibility, of potential, of what could be, of what will be.  It's the beauty of anticipation, of the unknown.  

I believe this is a part of what drew people to Jesus.  At first he wasn't much.  What drew the first disciples to him?  What caused the first women to gather around?  Why would the few widows with money use it to support his ministry?  Because, like my friend, they had an eye for what might be.  They could see the flower in the bud, the promise in a beginning.  May God open our eyes to see and appreciate the beauty all around us, even in the buds.


Loving God, our sister Natalie has reminded us that in the bud there is a flower, in the seed an apple tree, in cocoons a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free.  Grant us the grace to see the promise in the things around us which do not, on their surface, look like much.  Whether buds, seeds, people, or even churches, let us see the potential, and work together with you to bring it forth.....Amen.

​"The rain falls on the just and on the unjust."  Except not this year.  This year the rain all seems to be falling in one or two places, and leaving the rest of us to dry up.  Our grass seems to have already gone dormant, dust is everywhere, and let's not talk about crops and livestock.  Much of California and Oregon are on fire.  In Australia they're shooting their herds rather than let them die from dehydration.  England is not getting their normal rainstorms, but Arizona is.  In the meantime Pennsylvania is about to float away, along with a few other states.  And weather people tell us it will only get worse.

Does this mean God hates us?  No, although I doubt that God is happy with what we've done to the planet.  In Genesis God tells Adam and Eve, and Noah and his family to care for the earth.  We are inheritors of that command, and yet there are islands of trash and plastic floating in our oceans, glaciers melting north and south, and water consuming islands and communities worldwide.  And yet so many just sit back and do nothing, as though the problem were going to fix itself.  The Earth is crying out.  Will we respond, or sit in silence until there's nothing left?


Creator God,  we confess that we have been more of the problem than the solution when it comes to caring for the earth.  We enjoy our relatively cushy lives.  We enjoy the lifestyle gas and plastics can give us.  We enjoy our nice, long showers.  But we are finding that the earth cannot sustain our lifestyle.  The earth cannot continually renew itself, and if it loses the ice caps we will be in all kinds of trouble.  Help us to find ways to make changes not only in our lives, but also in the politics of our nation that we as a people may take better care of the earth you have given us.  Amen

​A few weeks ago a man well into his nineties died in Florida.  I know, nothing very surprising about that.  But what surprised me was how much my Facebook feed blew up with the information.  It started with my Disney-related pages, but quickly moved to National News pages, and then friends sharing his story.  You see, this man was still working.  He had two jobs: He was a greeter at the most expensive resort at Walt Disney World (WDW); At that same resort he helped brides pull themselves together and smoothed out their trains before they headed down the aisle in the Wedding Pavilion.  OK, so he was 90+ and still working, but beyond that why lift him up?  Well, it turns out he had a gift for making people feel welcomed and cared-for.  His reputation was so strong that people staying in other WDW resorts would travel to his just to be greeted by him.  He was able to make people feel that they were extremely important to him, and to the rest of Disney.

I believe one of Jesus' gifts was this same ability to help people to believe that they were wanted, loved, and important.  Richard Gerth did it at WDW, but who do we have in our churches who has this gift?  I've known a few in my lifetime, and they helped their churches immensely.  Who has that natural gift of hospitality?  Who can help new people connect with established members?  Who can help them find their place?  Who helps them feel important?  Sure we can cultivate those people, but it's much easier if they have the gift and it comes naturally.  How much different would our witness to new folks and potential members be if they felt loved, cared-for, and important the minute they walked in the door?

God of grace, you have gifted each one of us with abilities we can use to build up your reign here on earth.  We can welcome people into the church, we can preach, we can teach, we can bake cookies, we have good financial know-how, we can fix things when they break.  No one of us has it all, but together we can accomplish good things for you.  Give us the grace, and the courage to tap into our gifts, and offer them up to be used as you see fit........Amen.

​I've been watching Disney's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame", and at one point Quasimodo sings about his life in the tower over against the people down below.  He sings that "every day they go about their lives, heedless of the gift it is to be them."  In that instance I can identify with Quasi. I have been cooped up in my apartment for 3+ months, following surgery.  I sit and watch other people, able to walk, able to get in and out of their cars, able to just take a quick step up onto the curb, and they go about their days without a thought to how amazing it is that they can get up and go.  I think most of us, until we can't, just go about our lives as though what we do is perfectly normal, unaware that there are persons who live entirely differently: some can't hear, some can't see, some can't walk, some can barely move, some don't have running water, heat, or electricity, some can't access education, some are food insecure, some are without shelter.  It's easy to just live our lives on and on without giving a thought to those who live differently, and what we might be able to do to help them to live better and/or easier.

I'm reminded of the friends who brought one of their friends to Jesus for healing.  First of all it's amazing that he had such good friends, who would take time out of their lives to care for him.  But when they couldn't get to Jesus the easy way, they hauled him onto the roof, and lowered him down.  Nothing would stand in the way of their helping this man to stand and walk again.  There are so many needs in the world that it's easy to become discouraged, but like the story of the kid on the beach throwing the starfish back into the sea: we may not be able to help everyone, but we can make a difference in the life of one.


Loving God, we know that you are God over all the world, and often we wonder why it is that some seem to be more blessed than others.  Scripture tells us that from those to whom much is given, much will be required.  Keep our hearts and minds open to ways that we, who have been given so much, can assist others in living their lives to the fullest.  Even if what we can do is pray for them or be in contact so they don't feel isolated, all the way to going and digging wells or fixing homes.  Give us grace to be aware day by day "what a gift it is to be [us]".......Amen