Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Called to be Courageous

There are stories that shape our identities.  Some attitudes we carry are instilled in us from birth as we listen to the counsel of our elders.  One of those stories in my family of origin came from grandparents who had lived through the Great Depression.  They were not interested in investing in the stock market because they had seen how the Market Crash of 1929 had personally affected their lives.  A dusty box of worthless stock certificates stored in the attic remained as a symbol of that painful time.

Another story that was told around the kitchen table had to do with serving on the church board, the store board, or the bank board.  We were taught to shy away from such responsibilities.  When the local bank was sold, board members were scrutinized and criticized.  When the time came for the sale of the local mercantile, the board members were subject to many questions.  Those board members were our long-time neighbors and friends.  We did not seek such responsibility.  Members of my family would never respond to an invitation to serve in such a public way.  We were cautious followers, who refused to assume the risk of leadership.

So, what happened with me?  What story has shaped my identity more than those formative family stories?  Sometimes I think, "It certainly might have been a different, easier life had I never left the place where I was born."  If only I could have avoided the responsibilities that are required with leadership, being in close contact and conversation and--in those pivotal, defining moments--being out front.  What story has given me such courage?

The preacher when I was ordained chose the call of Jeremiah as model for my own calling to ministry and leadership in the United Church of Christ.  I've never forgotten the text:

Now the word of the LORD came to me saying,
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
and before you were born I consecrated you;
I appointed you a prophet to the nations."

Then I said, "Ah, LORD GOD! 
Truly I do not know how to speak,
for I am only a boy."

But the LORD said to me,
"Do not say, 'I am only a boy';
for you shall go to all to whom I send you,
and you shall speak whatever I command you.
Do not be afraid of them,
for I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD."

Then the LORD put out his hand and touched my mouth,
and the LORD said to me,
"Now I have put my words in your mouth.
See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms,
to pluck up and to pull down,
to destroy and to overthrow,
to build and to plant."

So, see where God has taken me.  God's hand touched my mouth.  God's Spirit descended into the depths of my heart.  Jesus called me to the tumult, and my life has never been the same.  It has been a series of amazing adventures. 

I write today from General Synod 30, as the Conference Minister of the New Hampshire Conference of the United Church of Christ.  I can only imagine what my grandparents might say.  I am called to lead and to love: to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.  I am called to be courageous.

O LORD GOD, I cherish your call.  You have brought me to and through "unexpected places."  You have surrounded me with other faithful and courageous disciples.  You have touched my mouth and my heart.  You have strengthened my hands.  I trust you to see me through and, at the last, to lead me home.  Amen.



 

Monday, June 22, 2015

Breaking Down Walls, Bulding Peace

You may recognize the title of this post.  It is the theme of the New Hampshire Conference's upcoming Annual Meeting.  Based on Paul's words in Ephesians 2:14, this theme speaks to the power of the gospel in making peace in places of hatred and hostility.  When we selected the theme, we were thinking of the trouble in our cities after police shootings.  Things we had imagined were in the past became present in our own time.  I wondered, naively, whether the theme would still be timely in October--whether the racial divide in this country would still be evident this fall.

The murders of nine African-American Christians in Charleston, South Carolina last Wednesday are a source of deep sadness in my spirit.  How can this be?  I recall the stories of four little girls at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham on September 15, 1963:   Addie Mae Collins, Cynthia Wesley, Carole Robertson and Carol Denise McNair.  Now, in our own time, there are nine more to add to the long list of those who were murdered within the sanctuary walls, as well as those killed in the streets of our cities, towns, and villages.  I grieve the loss of life at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston last Wednesday.   May we pray for the families of Cynthia Hurd, The Honorable Rev. Clementa Pinckney, Tywanza Sanders, The Rev. Sharonda Singleton, Myra Thompson, Ethel Lance, Susie Jackson, The Rev. Daniel Simmons Sr., and The Rev. DePayne Middleton-Doctor.  May we pray that the evil of racism is purged from our hearts and our society.  May we teach our children and youth to walk a path of peace and to join our Christ in breaking down the old, deadly walls of hate and hostility.

Many words and commentaries have been offered in recent days.  I know how important it is to talk things out.  I believe, however, that this is the time for reverence, self-examination, and silence as we face the reality of racism that divides our nation yet again.  This is also the time for witness--as we saw yesterday as people came together to worship and hope at Emanuel AME Church just days after shootings in their sanctuary.  Yes, this is the time to act in ways that reflect the reality that Christ is our peace.  Christ is our hope.   God's justice will prevail to transform hearts and lives, to heal a broken nation.  We shall overcome . . . today.

"For Christ is our peace, in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us."

May it be so . . . today!

Amen.

 

Monday, June 8, 2015

Holy Water


Holy Water
 

Every day finds her kneeling with the dawn,
Bending low on soft garden soil,
The aged face shrouded in fading sunbonnet,
Tending plants that will soon be finished.


When August comes with scorching sun,
She still bends low as if to pray,
The soft soil now dry, dry, bone dry—
Water, the only hope for her and for them.
So every day she kneels with the dawn,
Grateful for the green,
Sprinkling can in hand.
Holy water!


Water is our only hope!
We are plants, in parched earth,
Thirsting for life-sustaining drink,
We are the ones who will soon be finished
Yet every morning finds her kneeling,
Sprinkling can in hand.
Holy water!

 
Remembering Esther Frieda Ricka Krueger Schulte
August 28, 1896 - October 10, 1975
My Grandma
 
--gms

Monday, June 1, 2015

I See Hope

Sometimes it is easy to become discouraged about the Church.  The most recent Pew Research Center study finds that there has been significant decline among those who identify as Christians in the United States, a nearly 8% decline in just seven years.  The number of those who identify as "Mainline Protestant" dropped from 18.1% (2007) to 14.7% (2014).  New Hampshire is listed as the second least religious state in the nation, with Vermont being the least religious, according to this study.


In some ways, our situation may be compared to an old family business that has been passed along from generation to generation.  When the market shifts, whether gradually or suddenly, the owner is faced with a major decision:  adapt, continue steadfast with the business model of my great-grandfather, or simply close.  This is a moment of decision for those who hold the heritage and the traditions of our forebears.  Yet we are clear, in the United Church of Christ, that it is the responsibility of each generation to make the ancient faith its own and to communicate the Good News in ways that change lives and transform the world around us.


Well, I want to share that yesterday I was delighted to be in worship with our church, The United Church of Christ in North Hampton, on its Music Sunday.  It was a service where the Word was sung in many languages and styles.  It was a powerful service that included the farewell of a beloved, accomplished "Director of Melodies," who had served in that role for twenty-four years.  There is life and great joy in North Hampton!


What gave me great hope happened during the offering of gifts.  Two young children where lifted by their parents and encouraged to place the family's offering in the plates.  This is a regular ritual for those families.  It reminded me of the widow who modeled generosity in Jesus' day (see Mark 12:41ff.)  It was a privilege to observe these little ones in their parents' arms, learning lessons about generosity and sharing--making their offering to the glory of God and to the good of their neighbors.  I wonder how, in the years yet to come, these children will grow and model their own expressions of faith and love for God.  In my mind's eye, I already see them as leaders of the Church.  I saw hope in North Hampton yesterday--hope for the Church when the news about our decline and diminishment seems especially discouraging.


I wonder:  Where do you see hope budding, blooming, and bearing fruit in your church in these days?  We have much to celebrate.  We have so much for which to be grateful as we offer our prayers to God from whom all  blessings flow.