“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!”
Philippians 4:4 In the season of Advent, we have lit the candles of Hope and Peace, on this third Sunday, also known as Gaudete Sunday, we light the pink candle of joy. Gaudete is Latin for Rejoice and what a time to rejoice, as we await the prophesied moment of God’s great love for His creation. What greater joy can there be than to know the love of the creator. It is in our precious moments spent with the Lord that we find a fountain head of great joy. Like the author of Psalm 28:7, when we turn to the Lord, our hearts leap for joy. “7The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.” Psalm 28:7 It is knowing the love of our God in such abundance that we find hope and peace. Our joy is what opens the flood gates for hope and peace to overwhelm us in a cleansing bath that leads to more rejoicing. The author and lay minister of the late nineteenth century, Samuel D. Gordon stated: “Joy is distinctly a Christian word and a Christian thing. It is the reverse of happiness. Happiness is the result of what happens of an agreeable sort. Joy has its springs deep down inside. And that spring never runs dry, no matter what happens. Only Jesus gives that joy. He had joy, singing its music within, even under the shadow of the cross.” Take this moment and reach out to God in prayer. Let Him fill your spirit with the joy that knows no end. Bask in the radiance of His loving embrace that reached all the way from Heaven to a manger and to the Cross. In this season of Advent, trust in the gracious power of our Lord and pray with Paul: “13May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13 Even now, Lord, let the light of Your joy spread from us into a dark and broken world. Kathy Hendrix
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Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.
--Hebrews 13:16 NRSV Occasionally when I talk to PHCC leaders, I try to point out the strengths or assets of PHCC as I see them, since I’m a newcomer and relative outsider to this faith community. One of the strengths or assets I see is the church’s location on 72nd Street between I-29 and Highway 9, a stone’s throw from an interstate exit, within a short drive or even walk from expensive subdivisions and low-income apartments. As our use of technology during the COVID pandemic has shown us, a church’s location doesn’t matter as much as it used to matter. Yet, I believe that if a church is going to have a building (and a growing number of congregations are choosing not to have one), then its location still matters a great deal. In the short time I’ve been at PHCC, even during the pandemic with 20 or less people in the sanctuary on Sunday mornings (and dozens more viewing online), various strangers have found their way to PHCC seeking something. Traditional church visitors have come seeking a church that is more inclusive and open-minded than the churches they have previously known. Other visitors have come after suffering loss and while experiencing grief looking for comfort and reassurance God has not forsaken them. A young man who is homeless and probably mentally ill has twice slept on our property overnight. Another man struggling with drug addiction and other issues came in need of someone to listen to him and pray with him. Because of where our church sits, people of all different kinds are passing by and some stop--even during a pandemic--because their need is so great. Long ago, Park Hill Christian Church was planted at this location. No, the church isn’t as large as it once was and yes, our culture has changed to the point where many no longer say they want to be a part of a church. What hasn’t changed however, is that people still hurt, still suffer, still search for meaning and still wonder if God loves them. What also hasn’t changed is that Park Hill Christian Church is still here on 72nd Street between I-29 and Highway 9. This Advent season there is a lot of pain in the world: the pandemic, politics, the economy and a whole lot of anger looking for a place to go. As we prepare to ponder a night in Bethlehem when a young family came looking for room and somehow God came in a new and unpredictable way, let us remember that God still shows up looking for room in the guise of strangers who come to our church doors even during a pandemic. Advent is a time when we prepare ourselves to once again make room for Christ in our lives, let us also do the same in our church. Every day strangers pass this church building on 72nd Street and some have a need so great that they will turn off into our parking lot and come to our door. As the carol reminds us, “Every heart prepare Him room.” Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples Most of the time I hate waiting. When I’m ready to stream a TV show, I hate waiting even a few seconds for it to start. It seems like only yesterday I was fine with driving to the video store and spending 30 minutes looking for a movie to rent, but now the movie is beamed straight into my home and I get petulant when it doesn’t instantly start. I hate waiting in line at the supermarket even though throughout history and even today most humans had to grow, harvest and cook their food themselves. Living a middle-class life in America today means most everything is designed to happen on my own schedule, so when I must wait for something I blow a fuse.
Yet sometimes I must admit I enjoy waiting. If I can be bothered to think ahead and bring a book along with me, sitting in a doctor’s waiting room becomes a pocket of time where I can get lost in a good story. When I’m sitting in my car waiting to pick up one of my sons, provided I can put down my phone, I can listen to music for a few minutes and get lost in a favorite song. There are moments when I am forced to wait, moments when I can be intentional enough to set aside my smartphone pacifier, in which I find a relief from my frenetic activity. Those moments become something other than inconvenience, something that feels like grace. The Advent season is a time of waiting—at least it’s supposed to be. In most years, it becomes a chaotic countdown to Christmas full of shopping, office parties, decorating and family dinners. This year the weeks before Christmas may be spent ordering things online. The church season however, reminds us that there is joy in the waiting if we are intentional about using our time for something other than stress and distraction. I’m having trouble finding much joy in waiting this Advent, because 2020 has been a year of waiting: waiting for quarantine to end, waiting for a vaccine, waiting for a presidential election and waiting to discover what carefully laid plans will be cancelled next. I’m sick of waiting, so trying to get in the spirit of Advent seems sort of impossible. Yet, God’s people have always had times of waiting. The Bible is full of people waiting. From the Israelites in Egypt to the early church, from the writers of the Psalms to the Hebrew prophets, God’s people have always struggled during times they must wait for God to act. “How long, O Lord?” is a common refrain in scripture. Since God could act anytime, there must be some value for us in the waiting? Dare we set aside our distractions, even for a moment, and see what such moments teach us? Recently I read what Ernest Hemingway said about waiting. Injured in WWI, the famous author spent six months in a hospital ward. He observed how other patients endured their own waiting: some relied on distractions, others cried out in lament and others pondered the meaning of their lives. Hemingway later wrote about this experience, “The waiting does not break us, it reveals us.” If we have the courage to reflect on it, what has this year of waiting revealed about each of us? The Advent season offers us the chance to make good use of our waiting, because we can pause and see what God wants us to embrace or perhaps change about our efforts to find hope, peace, joy and love. The minister and writer Tony Robinson shares that waiting is an essential part of faith in God. If you're still waiting [for God], it means you haven't settled in, insisting that present arrangements are the be-all and end-all just because they happen to suit you. You're still waiting. And if you're still waiting, it means you haven't given up. You haven't decided, cynically, that it all amounts to nothing and why bother anyhow? You're still waiting. Are you still waiting—fiercely waiting? And here's the great thing . . . if you are still waiting, you stand an excellent chance of seeing Jesus. If we are willing to learn what the season of Advent wishes to teach us, we may discover that this season of anticipation offers some essential keys to our spiritual lives. Author Michelle Blake writes, "One of the essential paradoxes of Advent: that while we wait for God, we are with God all along, that while we need to be reassured of God’s arrival, or the arrival of our homecoming, we are already at home. " We may cry out with the Psalmist, “How Long, O Lord?” and then discover a deeper level of trust in God’s presence even when what we want, need and hope for has yet to materialize. In our waiting for Christmas each year, which is a metaphor for our waiting for God to act at any time all year long, we may even discover not only joy at God’s presence but also excitement as we anticipate what God will do in our lives. Just as God broke into the world in an unexpected way as a helpless infant born to a family without shelter, a family soon to become refugees running for their lives, God is just as capable of braking into the lives of you and me in unexpected ways. Waiting for that action of God can be like the excitement of waiting for Christmas morning when we were children. Author Frederick Buechner writes the following about Advent: The house lights go off and the footlights come on. Even the chattiest stop chattering as they wait in darkness for the curtain to rise. In the orchestra pit, the violin bows are poised. The conductor has raised his baton . . . The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment. I wish you the courage to set down your distractions in order to wait with joy and excitement for what God is about to do in your life. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not
let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” --John 14:27 NRSV Last week I had the honor of officiating the graveside service for Gary Montague, who was a part of PHCC in his youth and whose grandfather was the founding pastor. His widow asked that I include “The Serenity Prayer” in the service, which I was glad to do. When I googled the famous prayer, written by 20th Century theologian Reinhold Niebuhr and widely used by AA and other 12-Step groups, in order to copy and paste it into my readings for the service, I was surprised to discover I didn’t know the whole prayer, despite having used it most of my life. I had only prayed, preached and shared the first four lines of the prayer, which says: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. What I had never known (and apparently many people already knew) is that the prayer is longer and includes the following lines: Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardship as a pathway to peace; taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will; so that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with You forever in the next. Amen. The lines which were unknown to me are no less beautiful than the first four. The reference to “one day at a time” may be the reason the sentiment is repeated so often in recovery groups. I’m sure some must use the longer prayer for just this reason, but the recovery meetings I’ve been invited into did not do so. Its message of acceptance rather than denial of the world’s troubles seems like a truth I still struggle to live out and I am glad to have the longer version as a tool for my own journey. Niebuhr’s original prayer was written in first person plural (“we, us, our”) rather than first person singular (“I, me, my”). On coffee mugs, t-shirts and social media memes however, it is almost always written in the singular. I know from personal experience how praying the prayer in the singular can be a powerful tool for discerning between what is in my control and what is outside of it, yet I agree with the many writers who point out that something is missing in the individualistic version. We also struggle as communities and societies to figure out what is within and outside of our control to change. We constantly struggle against feeling apathetic and powerless in order overcome systematic evils. Niebuhr himself oscillated back and forth in his writings over how much power humanity had to face the great social sins of his day. In a year like 2020 when our difficulties feel so overwhelming, praying the Serenity Prayer corporately seems like a welcome antidote to the waves of communal powerlessness we all feel. Yes, God, help us to know what we can do in the face of pandemic, racism, corruption, ecological disaster and economic instability! As I stood by a graveside reciting the longer version of the Serenity Prayer, I felt like I was lighting a small candle in the gloom of this year. Whatever your situation as you journey through Advent towards a Christmas which resembles none in recent memory, I commend to you the longer version of the Serenity Prayer. Try praying it as an individual with the pronouns “I, my and mine” and then pray it as a part of a larger community crying out to God for help using the pronouns “we, us and our.” In this second week of Advent when we have lit the candle of peace, may this prayer live up to its name in your life and grant you some serenity. Grace and Peace, Chase “27Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27 Peace. A commonly used word. A word that we all are familiar with. A word that may suggest a picture of tranquility or cessation of hostilities. Peace, a word that we all know. This second week of Advent we light the candle of Peace. What does it mean? Jesus is often called the Prince of Peace. But what does that mean? In the Merriam – Webster dictionary peace is defined as: ‘1. a state of tranquility or quiet such as freedom from civil disturbance or a state of security or order within a community, or 2. freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions, or 3. harmony in personal relations and on it goes. But what is peace really? In the verse from John, Jesus tells us He is leaving His peace with us. And He points us toward the definition of peace: “Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” So, it seems that we could take His peace to be what Merriam – Webster describes as ‘freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions’. That is not easy to accomplish! One way we can look for this peace is to look at examples of it in action. And right in the Christmas story we can start with the very beginning. In Luke 1:26 – 38 we have the story of Mary. A teenage girl, who is promised to be married. A simple girl, who is not special in any way other than God’s plans for her. She was just an ordinary girl, yet she would become the mother of Jesus. As the story unfolds her “peace” becomes very unsettled. In her society what the angel is proposing means disgrace for her and her family, she will become an outcast. Yet, she says, “I am the Lord’s servant.” Even in this most frightening moment, she agrees to follow God’s plan for her life. She was just an ordinary girl; how could she be so sure of God’s peace. On November 18th of 2020 during a general audience, Pope Francis said this: "Mary was praying when the Archangel Gabriel came to bring his message to her in Nazareth. Her small yet immense “Here I am”, which made all of creation jump for joy in that moment, had been preceded throughout salvation history by many other “Here I ams”, by many trusting obediences, by many who were open to God’s will. There is no better way to pray than to place oneself like Mary in an attitude of openness, with a heart open to God: “Lord, what you want, when you want, and how you want.” That is, a heart open to God’s will. And God always responds." Mary’s faith was already strong. And as the Pope points out she had a long line of stories of “here I ams” to fall back on. We too have those stories. And not just from the Bible. Throughout Christian history there have been so many ordinary people who have set aside the “disquiet” and “oppressive thoughts” that are bound up in emotion and have trusted in God’s faithfulness. Just as God promised so long ago to the prophets and the children of Israel, we have been redeemed through the power of the cross and the empty grave. As we march into this season of joyful expectation, we know the end of the story. We have been given the gift of the Spirit who brings with Him a peace that is beyond understanding. When we stand in trust of our God, when we bow our heads and meet with our Lord, faith floods through us leaving behind sweet peace. “33 I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 This season accept the sweet peace of Jesus Christ and let it flow through you as a light to the world. Kathy Hendrix For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by
steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope. --Romans 15:4 NRSV This week I am officiating two memorial services (Gary Montague and Billy Porter). It’s a nearly impossible task to try to honor the life of someone in such a service. There really is no way to say everything that could or even should be said about a person. The whole reason we have rituals like funerals and memorial services is to attempt to express the deep truths that words can never fully articulate. I’m not surprised when family members are daunted by the task of what to say about a loved one when the minister asks what they want to be included in a funeral or memorial service. I know their silence is not a lack of love but rather finding themselves overwhelmed by the moment. Words seem inadequate. So, we lean on scripture, prayers, poetry and other time-tested aids to assist us in giving voice to the cries of our hearts. When loved ones of a person who has died do have a favorite scripture passage, a poem or stories to share, such readings end up being a comfort for all who hear them at a funeral. As the minister, I am especially glad to hear when the one who has died had a favorite Bible verse. Sometimes family members find it underlined in their loved one’s Bible. Other times it is on a greeting card that was kept and affixed to a bedroom mirror or refrigerator door where it was seen every day. The most special are when spouses/partners, children and friends hear the verse repeated by their loved one as they endeavored to live out its truth in their lives. I guess in our social media age, parlor games of years past have become hashtags of “What would you. . . ?” You know, the question games like “What book/food/movie would you take with you to a deserted island?” A similar one asks, “What would you want written on your tombstone?” As someone who has officiated dozens of funerals and memorial services, I would add to these sort of question and answer games, “What would you want read at your funeral?” For some people, the answer might be a favorite poem, a letter written to a loved one, a line from Shakespeare or a passage from a favorite book. For a person of faith, the answer might include a scripture verse or two. What would you want your loved ones to remember you by? For the record, I’d like Romans 8:38-39 read at my funeral: For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (NRSV) Not only would I want my loved ones to be comforted by the promise that nothing can separate us from God, I’d hope that at least once or twice they experienced me living as if these words were true for my life. At my lowest and when my faith was most lacking, I have clung to these words as if they were a life preserver, the only thing keeping me from going under,--because their assurance probably was the only thing keeping me from being overwhelmed by the troubles in this life. Take it from a minister who does funerals, memorial services and graveside services on a regular basis, you are not only doing a favor for the minister officiating your service but offering your loved ones a great gift when you make clear what you would like read at your service. Who knows? You may discover that those words are not only worth having read after your death but also words to read while you are alive. Those sacred words may be worth living out each precious day you have in this life and not just after your life is over. Grace and Peace, Chase I’ve spent the last twenty years of my life working in congregations that were much larger a generation or two ago. There’s a lot of grief to work through, and faithful church folks often feel like failures, because the numbers in attendance and income are smaller than they used to be. Regularly I’ve had church members come to me and compare our church to the big one down the street. “Why aren’t we like them?” they ask. Any answer to that question is complex, but for me, it ultimately boils down to one answer: Because God never called you to be that church. That church is hopefully already doing what God needs done. God needs this church to do something else.
Most of the reasons churches like PHCC have declined in numbers have to do with cultural changes that are far beyond a local congregation’s control. When younger generations in large numbers do not want to affiliate with the religious institutions of their parents and grandparents, there is not much a local church can do to counteract such sweeping cultural change. The only thing I really blame congregations today for is spending energy mourning the past rather than celebrating God is up to in the present and what God will do in the future. After all, our faith is not in buildings, programs, worship attendance, money, ministers or anything else except for God. Either we believe that God is capable of accomplishing what God wants in the world or not. God will get done what God wants, but apparently God wishes us to join in the fun. We can’t do that if we only look backwards and in effect tell God to do things like we used to do them. The unprecedented cultural changes we are seeing in terms of religion and spirituality actually offer churches like PHCC an opportunity to minister like never before. People in our culture still need community, rituals to mark the significant events in their lives, opportunities to connect with the Divine and spaces to be vulnerable and to share their pain. The church historian and writer Diana Bass writes the following about our times: Many, if not most, contemporary people live as vagrants—spiritually, intellectually, geographically, morally and relationally. Vague awareness of this new reality creates much social anxiety and can potentially fuel fundamentalisms, inquisitions and culture wars…. In an age of fragmentation, it may well be the case that the vocation of congregations is to turn tourists into pilgrims—those who no longer journey aimlessly, but rather, those who journey in God and whose lives are mapped by the grace of Christian practices. In yesterday’s church email, I wrote about approaching our spiritual lives as pilgrimages—journeying towards a spiritual destination and letting go of anything holding us back from reaching it. What if a church could transform itself from an organization that teaches people how to be a good church member (attend worship on Sunday, contribute money, and serve on a committee or two) into a community that helps people become spiritual pilgrims who grow closer to God? The spiritual hunger I see in our culture is different from the past only in style rather than substance. People still hunger for meaning and want to connect with something transcendent. People want something more, but they are not looking for a club to join. If churches wish to not only live but thrive in this new landscape, they must stop thinking about their own survival and start thinking about helping people on their spiritual journeys. God doesn’t need another megachurch. There are already plenty of those, and many of them serve a political cause or a charismatic leader’s ego rather than God. God does want, however, communities of faithful people who will follow Christ’s example of giving themselves away to serve others. I can promise you that any church which spends more time opening itself to God’s work in the present than mourning its past will have a thriving future. What thriving looks like in the future, of course, will be different from what it looked like in the past. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples “Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear
out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” --Luke 12:33-34 NIV Each day I receive an email listing estate sales happening in my area. Especially during COVID-19, estate sales have gone high tech and begun posting pictures of their contents for online-only auctions. For reasons I am unsure of—maybe because I grew up lower middle-class acquiring things from other people’s garage sales, I like looking for deals at estate sales. Yet, I’ve reached a point in life where I have most of the things I need and the boxes in my basement full of stuff feel more like a burden and less like something worth holding on to. Lately as I look at estate sales it feels like I’m seeing a whole lot of the same stuff. I see furniture, clothing, tchotchkes and collections of everything from antiques to figurines to auto parts that adult children of downsizing or deceased parents don’t want. It feels a bit sad to see the stuff that a generation held on to simply passed on to estate sale companies. I wonder how much of the leftovers from estate sales end up simply thrown into a dumpster? Was all this stuff a comfort to the people who left it behind or was it a burden in the end? Once one is privileged enough to have one’s basic needs met, how much more do we need? TV shows like Hoarders show materialism as a mental health problem where even the most insignificant piece of trash is imbued with an undeserved significance. In less extreme but perhaps no less unhealthy cases, the current trends of minimalism and simplicity along with books like The Life-Changing Art of Tidying Up and The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning reveal the deep spiritual hunger people are feeling who have exhausted finding meaning in their possessions. We Christians should not be surprised by the truth that our possessions cannot satisfy our deepest longings. Jesus did say after all, “Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Luke 12:33-34 NIV) I don’t think Jesus expected every follower to be an ascetic. He asked some to sell everything, while others provided him and his followers with food, lodging and even a burial tomb. Yet, I don’t know anyone in the middle class or above who doesn’t have too much of something. Thinking about the excess of possessions we carry through this life is an apt analogy for all the emotional, psychological and spiritual things we carry with us which are more burden than help. Recently I discovered a book I’ve added to my reading list: Without Oars: Casting Off Into a Life of Pilgrimage by Wesley Granberg-Michaelson. I haven’t read it yet, but it intrigues me, because it is a collection of reflections by an American Protestant Christian about what he learned on the ancient pilgrimage routes of Europe. The author describes his experience travelling the Camino de Santiago (The Way of St. James) in northern Spain, a famous pilgrimage route travelled by medieval pilgrims and modern pilgrims and tourists. He has this interesting observation from his journey: On the Camino de Santiago, makeshift shrines along the way are littered with things pilgrims have left behind—an extra pair of shoes, a sweater, a razorblade, an inflatable pillow, a book, a pair of pants, a makeup kit. Nearly every pilgrim on the Camino, despite careful packing, discovers that they are carrying too much. On this pilgrimage route, pilgrims on a spiritual journey realized that they could not complete their pilgrimage and make it to their destination unless they let go of things along the way. Maybe you’ve had a similar experience on a hiking or camping trip. Or maybe you’ve realized you packed too much for a vacation as you lugged a heavy suitcase through an airport. Maybe you didn’t abandon unneeded items, but you regretted the weight of carrying things you did not need for your journey. Similarly, maybe you’ve discovered, as I have on a regular basis, that what you were carrying inside of your mind, heart and soul were similarly too burdensome for your pilgrimage through this life. Anne Lamott said the following in an interview: We're here to know God, to love and serve God, and to be blown away by the beauty and miracle of nature. You just have to get rid of so much baggage to be light enough to dance, to sing, to play. You don't have time to carry grudges; you don't have time to cling to the need to be right. Christine Valters Paintner describes how we don’t need to actually walk a medieval pilgrimage route to be on a pilgrimage. We head out into the unknown all the time when life throws us a curve ball and we must set out on a spiritual journey to find our purpose and meaning once more. She writes: This call to embark on a rigorous journey of reclaiming ourselves and our relationship to the divine often comes without our bidding. There are many reasons we might begin an inner pilgrimage. Perhaps we’ve experienced a great loss: a job, our health, a dear friend, a sense of identity, financial security, or a marriage. We know we can’t return to life as usual. The goal of such a pilgrimage, I suspect, is that at the end of our lives when we are united with God we will have to leave behind as little spiritual baggage as possible. The loved ones we leave behind hopefully won’t have to deal with the consequences of our neuroses, anxieties and suffering but rather they will cherish our joy, strength and love. Before my mother died, she worked hard to dispose of all of her stuff that she knew we wouldn’t want. She would ask us if we wanted something, and if not, off it went to a thrift store or a trash can. She remembered having to pay for a dumpster when her own mother died in order to dispose of so much of my grandmother’s stuff that had mildewed and deteriorated to the point that it was of no use to anyone. She didn’t want to leave us the same burden. I’m less worried about leaving my sons junk to throw in a dumpster and more concerned I will leave behind for them memories of their father stressed out, anxious and preoccupied by things that didn’t really matter much in the scheme of things. Instead of an estate sale company, will they have to hire a therapist to dispose of what I leave behind for them? How much better would it be for me to leave those burdensome things one by one on the side of the trail as I make my own spiritual pilgrimage through this life? I not only believe my sons would be better off in the future if I adopted such a perspective, but I also think both they and I would be better off while we journey through life together in the here and now. The African American mystical writer, civil rights leader and chaplain at Howard University, Howard Thurman, expressed well our need as spiritual pilgrims in one of his prayers; may it become our prayer too. Teach me, O God, how to free myself of dearest possessions, So that in my trust I shall find restored to me all I need to walk in Thy path and to fulfill l Thy will. Let me know Thee for myself that I may not be satisfied With aught that is less. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples and with the first fruits of all your produce
--Proverbs 3:9 NRSV This morning my inbox was full of messages asking me to give to particular causes and organizations because it is Giving Tuesday. From religious organizations to nonprofits to advocacy groups, If I ever subscribed to or had my name added to an email list then today each of those organizations sends me an email. I began noticing this annual phenomenon about five years ago, and while I don't have any statistics on how much money is actually given on Giving Tuesday, I sure hope the number of emails about it correlates to a reciprocal number of generous responses. If you are unfamiliar with Giving Tuesday, here is an explainer. Giving Tuesday began in 2012 when a couple of large nonprofits in New York City partnered with some for-profit corporations to emphasize charitable giving. They chose the Tuesday after Black Friday as a time to emphasize giving after a weekend of consumerism. Our culture experiences the Friday after Thanksgiving as Black Friday when the supposedly best deals of the year are rolled out for consumers who want to spend their day off buying Christmas presents. The next day has been called Small Business Saturday to emphasize local businesses after a day of people lined up to shop at the big box store retailers. Then, of course, Cyber Monday occurs when supposedly the best online shopping deals happen for people going back to work who stare at computer screens all day. Finally comes Giving Tuesday when those who have perhaps over-indulged in purchasing stuff nobody needs for people who lack very little stop to consider people who lack basic necessities. I have yet to hear of a label for the Sunday of this weekend. Maybe churches should call it Spiritual Sunday to get people to spend a day thinking about their spiritual lives? I also think it is just a matter of time before somebody comes up with a clever name for the Wednesday after these special days? Maybe Work Present Wednesday where you shop for impersonal gifts to give people at your workplace? I'm all for Giving Tuesday. Any way nonprofit organizations who are working to make the world a better place can get more funding sounds like a good thing to me. From what I can tell, the change in tax law that began in 2017 which raised the standard deduction for most families has really hurt charitable giving in America. Since most middle class families don't give enough to charity to raise their deductions higher than the one they automatically get, there is less reason to give more--that is if one needs a tax deduction to prompt oneself to give. So while I am all for Giving Tuesday, as a Christian I think God expects much more from us than giving on a special day once a year. I feel quite sure God wishes us to make our generosity into a lifestyle rather than an afterthought. Generosity should be a key point of our identity rather than one that needs prompting through emails or tax deductions. Throughout the Bible in commands, narrative and poetry there is an expectation that people will give to God out of their "first fruits." In our time, where most of us exist far removed from the growing and harvesting of the food we consume, this image may be lost on us. It is an important image however, because it asks each person to acknowledge where what they consume comes from in the first place. Contrary to our capitalist economy which says we earn what we have, the concept of giving from the "first fruits" or the first things harvested means we have what we have because God gave it to us whether we earned it or not. Therefore before we enjoy it, we remember what we have is grace and "but for the grace of God" we could live under different circumstances where we would not enjoy such blessings. Giving as a first thought rather than as an afterthought is a spiritual practice of humility that reminds us of the many who exist without the things we take for granted. It is also a spiritual practice that says we are not at the center of all things but rather God is. This spiritual truth is expressed by the farmer-poet Wendall Berry: Nothing is given that is not Taken, and nothing taken That was not first gift. The gift is balanced by its total loss, and yet, And yet the light breaks in, Heaven seizing its moments That are at once its own and yours. I have found that making giving a discipline which I think of first rather than something I only consider last with what I have "left over" is one of the most difficult changes in mindset and in my spiritual life that I have ever undertaken. Looking at my paycheck and monthly budget with giving as something I put right at the top of the list before things like mortgage, utilities, internet, car payments/repairs is truly difficult. If I don't give to my church or to a nonprofit I support, they will not come and foreclose on my house or repossess my car or cut off my lights. Even more important than these things is the cultivation of my soul and my spiritual life. Yet, I keep living as if the cost of my lack of generosity is somehow less than the cost of my water being cut off. Such are the struggles of following Jesus. This morning my wife and I were discussing one of the nonprofits she volunteers with to provide food and Christmas presents to low income families this time of year. She mentioned that their annual fundraiser, a charity ball, couldn't happen because of COVID-19 so their income is way down. We marvelled at how the "big givers" won't give unless they receive in return a big party to add to their social calendar. As I write these words however, I'm considering that even though I may not be a "big giver" who attends large galas and fundraisers there are probably many reasons a "little giver" like me only gives when I get something in return. I'm pretty sure Jesus showed both "big givers" and "little givers" there is a whole different way to be generous. Jesus' idea of generosity involves not merely giving on Giving Tuesday but every other day of the year too. Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples |
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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