Do you think the Lord
wants you to give up eating and to act as humble as a bent-over bush? Or to dress in sackcloth and sit in ashes? Is this really what he wants on a day of worship? --Isaiah 58:5 NRSV This coming Wednesday, February 17, we will join together in person and online for an Ash Wednesday service. If you are like me and grew up in a church that didn’t practice Ash Wednesday, its meaning might be a bit lost on you. It is a service to mark the beginning of the season of Lent, 40 days (not counting Sundays) prior to Easter. It is a service of repentance and a reminder of one’s own morality, hence the words “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” I grew up Southern Baptist, so every Sunday was about repentance, guilt, shame, etc., so one could say we had Ash Wednesday all year long. When I first began to be a part of churches that observed Ash Wednesday, I thought, “O, how nice. We only have to do this once a year!” Although Ash Wednesday is about repentance, it’s not really about shame. Repentance is actually a gift of God’s grace not a punishment. It is a means of casting off the burdens of living with our harmful actions and behaviors in order to start again. It is a freeing time rather than a time of drawn faces and downcast spirits. The ashes of Ash Wednesday come from ancient practices of penance and mourning. Yet, as the prophets make clear, God cares about the condition of our hearts not whether we have outward signs that have no connection to an inner reality. The rituals of Ash Wednesday are not meant to be empty ones. The “imposition” of ashes is a reminder of what we would often rather not be reminded of—we are mortal. Despite all of our efforts to deny our eventual deaths, none of us gets out of this life alive. Rather than a morbid thought, this too is meant to be freeing. We don’t have to go on denying death, instead we can “befriend” our deaths and make the most of this life while we are in it. Instead of living as if we are guaranteed a tomorrow, and another and another, we can live fully in the present, finding joy in each moment, feeling gratitude for the sacredness found all around us. Remembering that we are dust and to dust we shall return is certainly humbling, but with humility comes joy as we entrust to God our eternal care and feel the blessed relief that it is not up to us to control what we have no power over. It is a fair question to ask why we need a reminder of mortality during a viral pandemic that kills thousands of people in the U.S. each day? Isn’t death all around us? In a way that is true. The daily statistics on Covid and vaccination rates, however, do not remind us of the truth that we are in God’s eternal care. The rituals of Ash Wednesday do just that—they offer reassurance that however long or short our lives may be, we are in God’s hands. Covid will change how we observe Ash Wednesday, however. Instead of receiving ashes on our hands or foreheads, we will do a different tradition. Those present will be asked to write down on a slip of paper something they wish to repent of, let go of or change in their lives. We will safely burn these slips of paper to symbolize the way God cleanses us and purifies us for new life. Those who stream the service online can burn their own slips of paper at home (safety first!). If you cannot attend in person but would like to have something written down and burned, you can communicate with me. I’ll keep your words to be burned in confidence and will see they are burned with the pieces of paper of others present. Ash Wednesday provides a way for us to remember what we should always keep in mind—but so rarely do—we only get one life. Let’s make the most of it by setting aside the things that keep us from experiencing God’s joy, so that our lives can be as good as God intends them to be. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples
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Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running
over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back. --Luke14:16 NRSV Admittedly, it’s a strange thing for a fan to write a eulogy for someone he has never met in person. I never met NFL sportswriter Terez Paylor, who died yesterday at the young age of 37, but I felt as if I had. We only interacted on Twitter as he responded to my messages praising his work and on occasion when he answered a question of mine during his podcasts. That’s not enough to say you really knew someone. Yet, I gained so much from Terez’s writing, his videos and his podcasts, not merely because of his excellent coverage of the KC Chiefs but because he was so fully himself as he did so. His inner light was contagious. His deep belly laugh was viral in its joy. Life felt more vibrant when I read his work, watched him speak and listened to him talk. He was a part of my life, as he was for so many people who loved his work. Terez became a personal part of my life during a very difficult year for my family and me. The weekly post-Chiefs game podcasts he hosted with the other KC Star sports reporters were a dose of laughter and good vibes my soul sorely needed. As a consumer of sports and sports writing, I can testify it is exceedingly rare in that empty bravado-filled landscape to hear a group of men laughing as friends—a laughter that wasn’t mean-spirited or at someone else’s expense but the kind that comes when people are sharing a passion together. During a lonely and painful year for me, Terez’s laughter was light cast into my shadows. When I shared this in a tweet to Terez and the other writers, their kind responses were a form of grace that was healing. So, I feel compelled to write a eulogy. It’s what I do as a minister, both for people I know well and for strangers I’ve never met whom I come to know through the stories loved ones tell about them. As I have read the pieces Terez’s fellow journalists have written over the last 24 hours—that’s writers doing what they do—I have been deeply moved that my fan’s experience of Terez is one miniscule point of light on a vast tapestry of brighter lights experienced by those who knew him well. The genuine humanity we fans experienced from Terez Paylor was not an act, as it is in the case of so many in the public eye, but a real representation of who he was in person. That consistency of character is, from what I gather, rare in the competitive field of journalism, just as it is rare in all other areas of life. I feel like that kind of unique generosity of spirit is worth celebrating and learning from, not only for my life but for all of our too-short lives. Numerous articles and obituaries list Terez’s rise from his Detroit childhood to Howard University to cub reporter covering high school sports at the KC Star to Chiefs beat reporter to national NFL writer for Yahoo Sports. Certainly his career and rabid love of the game of football is laudatory, but what moves me is the universal declarations of Terez Paylor’s kindness, generosity, vulnerability, sense of humor and his deep laughter. Yes, he was a ambitious reporter who was always stayed to the end to cover a story, grinding out his exhaustive knowledge of football, but he somehow did that work while at the same time being a real friend, a trusted colleague and a invested mentor. Here are some of the words his colleagues and co workers had to say about him: “I don’t know how many people are so good at what they do, yet remain so eager to get better. I don’t know how many people can carry a confidence that could border on arrogance, and be the first to make fun of themselves. He had a confidence you could feel the first time you talked to him, and a gift to transfer that confidence to you.” --Sam Mellinger, Sports Columnist, The Kansas City Star “He loved what he did. You could see it in his work. In his mock draft. In his All-Juice teams. He had a wide smile and infectious laugh. When you heard it, you had to join in, even if you had absolutely no idea what had gotten him. To know Terez personally was to be surrounded by joy and laughter. It felt impossible — impossible — to be in a bad mood when you were in his presence.” --Sam McDowell, Sports Reporter, The Kansas City Star “Terez made everyone around him a better person and could light up a room with his tremendous sense of humor and brightest of bright smiles.” --Herbie Teope, Chiefs Beat Writer, The Kansas City Star “I just loved talking to him. About anything. He just put you at ease. The conversation just flowed. If you ever had a problem at work or in life, he was there to get worked up on your behalf — in classic Terez fashion. He would say something that would make you feel better. He’d make you laugh. It sounds cliche to say that everybody loved Terez, but it was just impossible not to.” --Rustin Dodd, Sports Reporter The Athletic “Terez made every jam-packed media room better, smarter and more absolutely joyful just by being in them.” --Joshua Brisco, Sports Radio Personality, 810 WHB “He always wanted to get it right. He was warm, honest, fair, respectful, and he cared a great deal about you as a person.” --Matt Nagy, Head Coach Chicago Bears “One of the most genuine reporters I’ve ever communicated with.” --Derrick Johnson, retired Kansas City Chief It is a rare person who makes other people better at the same time he aspires to be better. We are taught in our culture that excellence exists in scarcity. One can only rise if others fall. One can win only if others lose. Yet Terez embodied the truth that excellence exists in abundance. The best are those who make those around them better. “I continue to be struck not by how many people have spoken warmly about Terez Paylor but by how many have said variations of “You helped me when I needed it”. Can there be a greater honor for a person?” --Kurtis Seaboldt, Sports Radio Personality, 810 WHB “Terez didn’t just help me. He uplifted everyone. He didn’t have to spend as much time as he did with Brook Pryeor, Lynn Worthy and me in 2018k our first year covering the Chiefs but he answered every question.” --Nate Taylor, Chiefs Reporter The Athletic “When I first started going out to Arrowhead to cover the Chiefs, it was honestly kind of intimidating to be in these spaces with no one around you who looked like you. Terez took the time to show me the ropes.” --Carrington Harrison, Sports Radio Personality 610 Sports Radio “Fellow journalists: Let Terez's enthusiasm and eagerness to help others coming up in the biz inspire us to take joy in the mentorship and sponsorship opportunities all around us. Young journalists, especially young journalists of color, were one of Terez Paylor's passions. Let's pass it forward.” --Jeff Rosen, Assistant Managing Editor/Sports, The Kansas City Star As a minister, I strive to import to people what Terez lived out—be who God created you to be. Find your passion, your calling, live it out with joy. Share what God has given you with others, trusting that however much you give away, you will only be given more in return. I don’t know Terez’ religious beliefs or if he had any at all, but from my perspective as a Christian, I believe his love of life, his generosity towards others, his praise for others’ good work, his consistent ethics, his genuine friendship and so much more are at the heart of who Jesus desires us to be. This kind of genuine humanity—living out of one’s true self, the true person God created one to be, the inner light that is the spark of the Divine that dwells within us, left there when we were created in God’s image—is contagious. As so many have described, it fills the room with laughter and leaves others feeling more truly themselves once they have experienced it. I believe that is the way people felt when they experienced Jesus when he walked the earth. It’s too bad all our paintings and pictures of Jesus have him looking so serious, so sad or so mean (not to mention so white!). It is difficult to picture Jesus with a belly laugh. So, that’s why God gives us a person like Terez Paylor, so we can see how good this life can be. The good news is that what Terez grabbed a hold of and lived in his too short life is available to you and to me, even if we never quite grasp life’s laughter the way he did. I will never forget Terez’s podcast episodes where he addressed issues of systemic racism following the killing of George Floyd last year. He shared his point of view with a genuineness and generosity that invited dialogue rather than shrill denunciation. His grace in approaching such a loaded and multifaceted subject as racism in America was masterful. It offered the promise of healing—not the cheap type of healing offered without the integrity of honesty and justice, but real healing that opens up clenched fists and closed minds. Our world has too few of such moments of goodness. In his moving piece about his relationship with Terez, Charles Robinson, Terez’s cohost on the Yahoo Sports NFL Podcast, write this about Terez: “When you got close to him, you learned all the things that attracted people from afar were real. He was kind. He was caring. He had a code about what was right and wrong. He could make you belly laugh, and he was actually much more likely to give you a belly laugh, even if what you said wasn’t nearly that funny. . . Through it all, he always wanted to learn more, always strove to get better. He was unafraid to express curiosity or regret about story choices in a way that most reporters won’t. And he made the people around him want to be better, too. Especially me. . . This is how it usually went with Terez, whether you were working with him, against him or watching him from afar. If you invested the time to know him or his work, he inevitably became a beam of light and you became a blade of grass bending in his direction.” Whether we are Terez’s fellow journalists who knew him well or just ordinary fans of his work that never knew him in person, like me, we all can strive to be like Terez, living out of our true selves, who we were created to be, shining our beams of light into the shadows around us. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith.
--Galatians 3:26 NRSV At the end of my sermon this past Sunday, I stated something to the effect that tonight in the Super Bowl someone is going to mess up in front of millions of viewers. What will determine whether that mess up is a failure or not will be whether that player learns from it and turns it into a success. I had no idea that my words would be more than prophetic. I had no idea that I would be talking about the entire Chiefs’ team, coaching staff and even the people the Chiefs’ pay to squirt Gatorade in players’ mouths. It was a Super Bowl meltdown of epic proportions. The team that played the best all season long played their worst in the Super Bowl. Along with millions of Chiefs fans, I was shocked, not because the Chiefs lost, but that they lost in such a spectacular fashion. Yes, the Chiefs got blown out in the Super Bowl—by Tom Brady and Gronk to add insult to injury!—but what will determine whether it was a failure or not will depend upon what they do in the future. Will they learn from their mistakes and be better next season or will they repeat their same mistakes next year? Is this loss something they improve from or will it be the beginning of a downward slide of losing more games, blaming others and refusing to take responsibility (it was the refs’ penalty calls!), and shame. As a minister, I’m never above using popular culture as a means to make spiritual points. I think the lens of sports is a great way to talk about the human condition. A big part of the reason our culture loves sports so much is because it touches on deeper truths about who we are and what we want to be. Is there something we can learn about what failure means from the Chiefs’ loss at the Super Bowl? What is failure? All of us think we know what failure is and what it looks like, but failure is an intensely subjective label and condition. In a masterful Nike ad titled “Failure,” video of Michael Jordan walking into an arena is overlaid with audio of Jordan saying the following words: "I missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times I've been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed." Thomas Edison said, “Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.” So, failure is not really a failure, unless one doesn’t use that failure to learn, to improve and to ultimately succeed. As Brene Brown notes, “Failure is an imperfect word because, if you take the time and have the patience to learn from your failures, then they aren’t failures any longer—they’re lessons.” Can a Christian Be a Failure? The reason books on leadership, self-help, philosophy, business and yes, religion, have so much to say on turning failure into success, I believe, is they touch on a universal truth about human life: we succeed by failing. For whatever reason, God created us to learn our deepest and most important lessons in life through failure. We learn how to walk by a whole lot of falling down. We learn how to talk by a whole lot of mispronunciation. We learn how to do pretty much everything by doing it wrong a bunch of times before we learn how to more or less do it right. Yes, all of us have gifts, talents and abilities we are born with that affect how well we are able to do somemthings and not others, but all of us must learn to do most things through failure. If we understand this key concept, then failures are no longer failures but necessary steps in our education of what it means to be human. The problem is that we confuse failures as behavior with failures as identity. Our society labels people as failures or successes in every arbitrary way possible. I drew heavily from social science researcher and writer Brene Brown in my sermon on Sunday. She writes a lot about the concept of shame. Her distinction between shame and guilt was a godsend for me. She says, “Guilt says, “I screwed up.” but Shame says, “I am a screw up.” The difference between the two is huge. Spiritually speaking, I grew up thinking these two things were the same thing. When I learned about the Christian concept of “sin” and the idea each of us is guilty of the ways we hurt ourselves, others, the earth and God, I took that to mean “God believes I am a screw up.” In other words, “God says I am a failure.” The truth of the Gospel is that God doesn’t view any of us as a failure. Oh sure, God knows our weaknesses, our mistakes, our wrongheaded attempts to control the universe as if we were God, our actions that cause harm to everyone and everything, in other words our failures, but God looks at us with love and declares, in spite of all these things, that we are beloved children of God. Period. No matter how we blow it, our identity as beloved children of God does not change. We may feel we are failures, but in God’s eyes we are never failures. So, the answer to “can a Christian be a failure?” is emphatically, one hundred percent, no. As Christians, we worship Jesus Christ, whom by all worldly standards was a failure. The crowds he attracted left him because his teaching was too difficult. His closest followers did not understand him and abandoned him when they needed him most. He was arrested, mocked, beaten, imprisoned, tortured, and executed. By every measure, he was a failure. Yet, we believe what historians cannot prove that God raised Jesus from death and exalted him to the highest position in the universe. Yet, as people who revere his story and claim to be following in the footsteps of Jesus, where did we ever et the idea that we had to be perfect or that life would be easy or that we wouldn’t have any failures? More importantly, why do we believe we are failures, when Jesus demonstrates that God works with a different understanding of the word than everyone else in the universe? Whether we are an NFL player who loses the Super Bowl or just an ordinary person watching it on TV, failures are actions of people, failures are not people. From a Christian perspective, even when we believe we are failures, we are not failures at all, because that is not who God says we are. This truth is impossible for many of us to believe much less live as truth. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples “13For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Psalm 139:13 – 14 We have been looking at Grace. We have seen how grace is for all of humanity and that we as Christians have a responsibility to live into that grace. Most importantly we have seen how freeing grace is and how when we walk with Jesus our lives become beacons of hope for all people. So, why is it that we live like we will lose grace? Why do we see ourselves as failures? We sing “Amazing grace… that saved a wretch like me….” And then live as if we are still wretched people. When God in his abundance has called us to so much more, why do we see ourselves as less? We have become more in God’s sight. “7So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.” Galatians 4:7 Growing up in the church we sang of J.O.Y – Jesus, Others and Yourself. Somehow that song became twisted and tangled so that the “yourself” was viewed as “wretched”, evil and wrong. For some of us it became so twisted that even loving ourselves became hard. That is not the intent at all. The song was meant to put Jesus first in all things and then to work for others, as servants, then to work and gather things for ourselves. Loving ourselves was never a part of its intention. To often we have let theology beat us up to the point where we cannot love ourselves because all we see are wretched creatures. But the power of grace is that we are made new. Through God’s gift of grace, we are forgiven and are counted worthy so that we can do what we have been called to do. “12Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. 13Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. 14And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” Colossians 3:12 – 14 We are dearly loved, and we must learn to love ourselves so that we can forgive and love others. Repeatedly it has been said, ‘if the pitcher is empty, how can it pour out on others.’ So, it is with love. If we cannot love ourselves, we have nothing to love others with. Not even Jesus. We must learn to see ourselves through God’s eyes. We must open our hearts to accept the grace to love ourselves and when we do, we will see that love spread far and wide. It becomes easier to share grace and forgiveness when we come from a solid place of love. Own the words of the Psalmist, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made”. Begin to see yourself as something other than wretched and watch the grace with which you treat others grow. See how, when you forgive yourself, as God has, how much easier it is to forgive others. Experience true JOY by owning your place in God’s world, not as losers, but as the victors who Christ has raised up. It is through grace that we learn to love ourselves. Because of grace we love others. And the power of grace is how our love for Jesus becomes manifested in the world. Kathy Hendrix for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I
was a stranger and you welcomed me --Matthew 25:35 NRSV A year ago, Park Hill Christian Church began a 40 Days of Prayer emphasis. It was a chaotic time--Rev. Fugarino had moved to a new ministry setting, the COVID pandemic was just beginning, a city-imposed quarantine interrupted in person worship and meetings, etc. Yet, out of discussions during that time, in both in-person and online meetings, came the idea of “Bold Hospitality.” We talked about how do we use the church’s building and location to benefit our community and welcome others? I believe God was preparing PHCC for some opportunities to show Christian hospitality which came only a few months later--the welcoming of two congregations to use our building for their ministries: Athens Church, a new church start in Evangelical Presbyterian Church and the The Oromo Evangelical Christian Fellowship, a congregation made up of Ethiopian immigrants who live in the Northland. I feel quite sure that God has more opportunities ready for the church, because Christian hospitality is at the core of our faith. Last week I read about an interesting court case involving a church and Christian hospitality. A church in Florida. Pass-a-Grille Beach Community Church, in St. Pete Beach near St. Petersburg has been fined by its small city for allowing beachgoers to park in its parking lot. The church sits two blocks away from a beautiful Gulf Coast beach, and in busy times the municipal pay-to-park lot is full. Several years ago, the church began allowing beachgoers to park in its lot and set up a box where people parking could make a donation. A sign clearly states the donations are voluntary and all proceeds go to the church’s annual youth mission trip. Often, church members, especially members of the youth group, hand out information about the church and their annual mission trip. They even pray with people on occasion. The city fined the church $500 per incident arguing it violated zoning laws (left unsaid was also the possibility the city might lose out on revenue). Although the case is still going to trial, a federal judge issued an injunction allowing the church to continue to allow beachgoers to park in its lot. The judge agreed with the church’s argument that it was exercising two core values: stewardship and hospitality. The church was using its resources--its building and property--to share about the church and its beliefs. Also, it was welcoming strangers as a part of its Christian faith--the church cited Bible verses such as Matthew 25:35 “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” The judge disagreed with the city’s argument that the church was “not sincere in its religious beliefs and practices.” I realize that the last sentence has a particular legal context, but I am struck by the language about sincerity. I have been a part of church fundraisers that were “sincere” efforts to share Christian love and hospitality, but I have also been a part of ones that were simply money grabs to help a church make money and close a budget deficit. I’m here to tell you there is a big difference between the two. For me, it begs the question if our church or any church was taken to court over a conflict with neighbors or local zoning ordinances, etc. would our actions be justifiable as a “sincere” part of our religious values and mission? I’m less interested in the legal arguments than I am whether or not a church is actually operating out of a sincere desire to care for “even the least of these” with the understanding that when we do so, we are actually demonstrating love for Christ as Matthew 25 teaches. Would a judge find our church or any other given church “sincere”? If a church is only a club or community group, then its actions, however good, differ little from other groups doing good things in the community. But a church, if it acts like a church, does its good out of a conviction that its hospitality and stewardship are not only commanded by God but that when they are carried out we serve others in Jesus’ name. When we do so, we actually are serving Jesus Christ himself. I would argue that sincerely acting like a church means a church should be actually doing more for its community than the many other non-profit church groups, as good as their work may be. If we really believed we were serving Jesus Christ himself, wouldn’t that mean our passion, our generosity and our hospitality were the greatest in the community? Sadly, we know this is rarely the case in the churches we know. As PHCC continues to contemplate what God is leading us to be in terms of “Bold Hospitality” let us contemplate how great would our service have to be for us to be judged “sincere.” Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” --Psalm 91:1-2 NRSV Have you ever sung or heard the song “On Eagle’s Wings?” It was written in the 1970’s by a Catholic priest and over time it became widely popular in both Catholic and Protestant circles. It’s not surprising that President Joe Biden, a devout Catholic, referenced this song in his victory speech the day after the presidential election. Given the deaths of loved ones Biden has endured, he most likely heard this song sung in funeral masses. I’m usually uncomfortable when politicians in our pluralistic democracy make use of exclusively Christian symbolism. I am conscious of my non-Christian friends in such moments. I do think, however, it is a good song, based on a better scripture, for Christians at least to reflect upon during our current time. From folks inside our church and outside it, I sense fatigue. We have stretched ourselves for almost a year now in ways we never thought would be necessary. Parents are exhausted trying to work from home and help their kids with online school, people are worried about jobs in industries that can’t function during a pandemic, seniors are isolated and lonely. To say this had been a tough year is an understatement. I’m especially glad to have the Chiefs in the Super Bowl to bring me some excitement this week, but I’m already dreading Monday when I no longer have an NFL season to enjoy. (Pity the poor cities whose teams were out of the running weeks ago.) Living with an awareness of COVID-19 and its dangers has raised everyone’s stress levels. We evolved to deal with temporary threats—hence fight or flight—not ongoing ones. Dealing with the uncertainty due to an epidemic unprecedented in our lifetimes has made it difficult, if not impossible, to carry out the normal ways we adjust to changing circumstances. It is hard to prepare for something when experts are learning along ordinary folks. We have the blessed hope of vaccines, yet so much uncertainty remains over who will get them and when, as well as how many need to get them in order for the pandemic to be “over.” Since the pandemic is not done, we need to reflect upon the message of “On Eagle’s wings,” not only as we grieve the 420,000+ dead but also as we grieve all the hopes and expectations for what the last year would be but wasn’t. The message of this song and Psalm 91 which it is based on is more than just a funeral message, however. It is a message of how to live in this life, in the here and now, in the midst of adversity. So here are a few brief suggestions about how you may “dwell in the shelter of the Most High.”
Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God
and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. --1 John 4:7-8 NRSV I was born with a voice inside my head telling me I wasn’t good enough. Good enough for what? I’m not sure. I was born into a loving family with caring parents. Yet, my earliest nightmares were of someone—whom I didn’t know—being disappointed in me for something I had no control over. I don’t know where that voice came from. My grandfather must have had the same voice in his head. He is said to have wrestled with shame and anger all his life despite nobody ever describing him as having done anything bad enough to deserve such lifelong pain. At middle age, I’ve decided that I have whatever he had, whatever negative self-critical gene lived in his DNA was passed down to me. Since that harsh critical voice was always there inside of my consciousness, it was pretty easy for me to ascribe that negative judgment to God. From my earliest age I was taught about God’s love, but I always gravitated to the stuff about God’s judgment. I felt like God was always looking over my shoulder shaking the divine head in disappointment. I could never please that God. I soaked up theological messages about what a lousy sinner I was and how I deserved God’s judgment and wrath. That God supposedly loved me, but I could never please that God. Over time, my beliefs about God changed and I began to realize that the negative voice in my consciousness was something other than God. Whatever it was, wherever it came from, it was something I was projecting on to God but really wasn’t God after all. I now know that “God” was emotionally abusive. That “God” was filled with hate. I’ve had a long journey learning to mistrust that harsh critical voice. When my wife can tell I’ve been listening to it again, she tells me, “It’s time to pass the talking stick to another voice in your head. We’ve heard what it has to say, but now somebody else gets a turn.” I smile and try to relax and let kinder thoughts roll through my mind. I’m far from perfect, but I’ve never been as bad as that voice always said I was. I tend to think psychological critiques of religion that claim God is only a projection of our need for a parent or some other unconscious desire are reductionistic in the extreme. Yet, there is some validity to the view that we project onto God our misconceptions. Decades ago, my father gave me a small thin book by J.B. Philips titled Your God is Too Small. It describes unhealthy concepts people tend to have about God—God as policeman, God as stern parent, God as taskmaster, etc. I have hung onto that book, because of its simple declaration that the harsh, unloving and angry God many people have is not really God. For some people like me, this misconception of God comes from a kind of psychological predisposition, but for many more it is because of the religious setting they were raised in. I’ve spent most of my adult life in ministry working to proclaim a loving and gracious God, yet it never ceases to shock me when I regularly encounter people who have attended churches for decades where this disapproving wrathful God is never preached but who nonetheless still hang onto the judgmental God of their childhood. When a crisis comes or a person is near death, all the messages about God’s love fly out the window and they return to a God who is punishing them in the present and who will continue to do so into eternity. Why can’t we let go of this—I’ll say it—hate-filled God? In his incredible book Tattoos on the Heart, Gregory Boyle writes these astounding words: God’s unwieldy love, which cannot be contained by our words, wants to accept all that we are —nothing of our humanity is to be discarded. No part of our hardwiring or our messy selves is to be disparaged. Where we stand, in all our mistakes and imperfection, is holy ground. It is where God has chosen to be intimate with us, and not in any way other than this. [Our] moment of truth isn’t in recognizing what a disappointment [we] have been all these years. It comes in realizing that God has been beholding [us] for all this time, unable to look anywhere else. . .The desire of God’s heart is immeasurably larger than our imaginations can conjure. This longing of God’s to give us peace and assurance and a sense of well-being only awaits our willingness to cooperate with God’s limitless magnanimity. Behold the One beholding you and smiling. I admit that the idea that God is beholding me and smiling seems far-fetched. Really? The Being who knows me better than I know myself, who knows my faults and mistakes, isn’t at least looking at me with some divine doubts, a raised eyebrow, some measure of disapproval? It’s bad enough that we transfer our negative thoughts about ourselves to God, but that inner hostility exudes out into our treatment of others. The remarkable statement in the First Letter of John, “God is love,” also comes with this truth that our lack of love for others reveals our lack of knowledge of God. It says, “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.” Our projection onto God of our critical self-judgment inevitably manifests itself in unloving thoughts, words and actions directed towards others. Terence Grant writes in his book The Silence of Unknowing about the cost to our relationships that comes from viewing God as anything other than love. God [comes] so we might finally get the picture of the incredible love that has always been given to us. The only real problem here is that we don’t believe this good news. In fact, it’s too good to be true. And because we don’t believe that such a love can exist for us or for others, we hold on to grudges, we repay hurts, we destroy relationships, we commit acts of violence and war. We separate ourselves from the God who can do nothing but love…. As it was from the beginning, God is forever reaching out to us. For many people, the hate-filled God is the only God they know. They recognize what loving such a God costs them and others, so when faced with the choice of believing in a hate-filled God or no God at all, they choose the latter option. If that was my only option for understanding God, I would choose atheism too. A number of writers and ministers have asked an interesting question when they meet people who say they don’t believe in God. Instead of arguing with or judging this nonbeliever they ask a simple question, “Tell me about the God you don’t believe in. I might not believe in that God too.” I’ve had similar discussions myself. It is often a grace-filled moment when I can confess to someone that I don’t believe in a hate-filled God either. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples [Christ] himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
--Colossians 1:17 NRSV Are feeling lonely? If so, I don’t think you are the only person feeling this way. You are in good company. My sense is that now that the tumultuous (and violent) election season is over the attention of the media and maybe many of us has turned to the pandemic. With the volume of presidential politics turned down, we can hear again the cries of pain—physical, emotional, spiritual—that come from living during this pandemic. We can focus upon the hundreds of thousands of lives lost and the stress that comes with the knowledge that an unseen killer could be anywhere around us at any time. Even if we are healthy and living without great anxiety about the virus, I believe all of us still having it in the back of our minds somewhere like an itch we just can’t quite scratch. I hoped that the vaccines would begin rolling out around the first of the year and by mid-Spring we would see the light at the end of the tunnel. I am grateful for the people I know who have received vaccinations (at least the first dose), but the news isn’t as good as I thought it would be regarding vaccine distribution. There are a lot of issues at every level of government and issues with production and distribution in the private sector. I have come to realize we have longer to wait for this to be over than I had hoped. Grappling with this reality means we have to once again dig deeper into our already depleted stores of energy, willpower and faith. If you wonder where that energy and strength is going to come from, because you already used up your stores of it, just know you are not alone. Really, you are not in this alone. When I struggle with feeling alone and isolated, I try to remember that the separateness I feel is an illusion, a product of my limited senses, a result of a wrongheaded belief that I, myself, am distinct from the world around me. Physicists explain that even our sense of self is a construct of our minds. The cells in our bodies are literally changing every second to the extent that the matter that makes us up is constantly being shed, transformed. The microscopic stuff that makes up our bodies is literally always transferring into the stuff around us including the people around us and ultimately even the people geographically far from us. The very matter of the universe is always connected. No less than Albert Einstein wrote about our limited perception of separateness. He wrote, “We are part of the whole which we call the universe, but it is an optical delusion of our mind that we think we are separate. This separateness is like a prison for us. Our job is to widen the circle of our compassion so we feel connected with all people and situations.” This interconnected reality is what mystics have always been trying to help us see. The medieval mystic Julian of Norwich said, “We are all one in God's seeing.” This is the truth modern spiritual writers that I resonate with proclaim. Episcopal priest Crystal Hardin writes, “While fear wants us to believe we are alone, faith knows differently.” For me the physicist, the mystic and the minister all are saying the same thing—we are not really alone. We are interconnected at a physical and spiritual level. This is good news, because when we feel alone, out of energy, like we can’t go on, like we are drained and exhausted, we have the energy, love, faith, hope and all those other good things belonging to a multitude of others near and far to draw upon. This is the process that is happening when we pray for one another. It’s like molecules of energy that pass through the very walls around us—material and spiritual—to connect us one to another. The very love we have for one another is more than just a feeling or interaction of chemicals inside of our brains but a primal force animating the universe. Christianity calls this primal force of connection in the universe, this energy which connects us one to another, this interconnected network of love which binds us one to another across time and space by the names God, Christ, Holy Spirit and so on. In the letter to the Colossians, there are a few majestic verses that Bible scholars believe was a Christian hymn which the author is quoting. It gets at this amazing truth that all of us is a part of everything because Christ holds all things together and reconciles all things to God. The New Revised Standard Version translates the poetry of this hymn into English as follows: [Christ] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers —all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. One of my favorite authors, Frederick Buechner, puts it this way about what unites us together. (Please forgive the masculine pronouns.) Heaven knows terrible things happen to people in this world. The good die young, and the wicked prosper, and in any one town, anywhere, there is grief enough to freeze the blood. But from deep within whatever the hidden spring is that life wells up from, there wells up into our lives, even at their darkest and maybe especially then, a power to heal, to breathe new life into us. And in this regard, I think, every man is a mystic because every man at one time or another experiences in the thick of his joy or his pain the power out of the depths of his life to bless him. I do not believe that it matters greatly what name you call this power—the Spirit of God is only one of its names—but what I think does matter, vastly, is that we open ourselves to receive it; that we address it and let ourselves be addressed by it; that we move in the direction that it seeks to move us, the direction of fuller communion with itself and with one another. You may feel alone today, but the truth is you are not alone. There is something that is in you but also that is greater than you, something that is in everything else there is, something that connects you with everyone else. We humans, with our limited senses, have moments when we cannot sense this greater reality of being connected to one another. Such moments are frequent in times like the ones we are living in, physically isolated from one another due to this pandemic. Trust science, trust scripture, trust faith, trust God, trust that you are not alone this day despite whatever it is in you which feels otherwise. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples “With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And
God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all 34that there were no needy persons among them.” Acts 4:33 – 34a The gift of Grace is given to all humankind. Everyone who has ever lived has had the gift given to them, because God loves his creation, and his great desire is that we be with him. For the Christian, the power of grace comes into play as we walk closer with our Lord Jesus Christ. Just as the apostles grew more powerful because of grace, we too can become powerful as we work in the world. Our gifts are poured out upon us by the Spirit of God working in our lives. These gifts help us grow in the fruits of the Spirit, and as we grow in the fruits of the Spirit, we give more of ourselves to others. In his book The Power of God’s Grace, Gary Schulz states: “He gives the gifts of his Spirit to individuals by the power of his grace so that his entire body will be served. By his grace living within us we are enabled and empowered to serve the whole body for the life of the body.” When we live into the idea that the Kingdom of God is at hand, we begin to work for the good of all our brothers and sisters. Sacrificing ourselves to Christ wholly, we begin to live out the fruits of the Spirit. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. 24Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” Galatians 5:22 – 24 Again, looking at what Schulz says: “Notice that the fruit is essentially the character of God. When we receive the Spirit, we are receiving the character of God living within us so that we bear the fruit of God’s character.” So, when we accept Christ and are filled with his Spirit, we become a true reflection of our loving Father. When we ‘crucify the flesh’ with Christ we become true instruments of the one and only living God. That does not mean there won’t be times of trial and trouble, but what it does mean, what we are called to, is the working together to powerfully overcome those trials and troubles. Looking at the apostles as examples, all suffered and most lost their lives for the gospel of Christ. We too can experience loss, but the great joy comes in the gift of the grace that we have received. The power of grace is the gift of knowing our Lord and Savior in a personal and dynamic way. When we walk in this way, nothing can ever take our joy away. The great power of grace is that it is freely given and when we live fully into that grace, we are truly free. Kathy Hendrix |
AuthorWe're Park Hill Christian Church in KC MO. We seek to follow Jesus by praising God, loving those we meet and serving the vulnerable. Archives
June 2021
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