Ponderings: “Make a Joyful Noise” and The Crowded Table

By Susan Wordal

I have a sorority sister who has gotten in the habit of posting on Facebook each day during November and marking the passage of “the month of thankfulness.” Some days the thoughts are short and pithy. Other days, they are full of interesting thoughts or contemplations. But this year, the “month of thankfulness” has been difficult to contemplate, let alone enjoy. There is a decided edge to things, or a decided loss of energy, depending on your perspective. And I’ve been wrestling with the need to give comfort as well as seek comfort, the need to bolster those who are down, along with the need to seek a new direction or perspective. 

As our Stewardship campaign for Pilgrim winds its way along, I’m finding that the symbol of “The Crowded Table” is helping me to sort out some things. It serves to remind me that we share with many people from all walks of life. We weren’t all raised in Bozeman, or even Montana. We weren’t all raised in 2-parent, working-class families. We weren’t all raised as Congregationalists or even in the United Church of Christ. And yet, we bring to this space and this community joy and compassion, love and praise, strength and resilience in the things we do, together and separately. 

Working for a governmental entity can be a daunting task. People don’t always like what the government is doing. Some find it intrusive or dictatorial. Some find it burdensome. Some would rather anyone else were running things. It doesn’t matter what level of government you work for, it’s true at every age and stage. And yet, despite the dislike and the complaining and the frustration and whatever else people are feeling that falls in the sphere of negativity that surrounds government, occasionally, some good shines through it. It reminds me why I first went to work for a governmental entity and why I seem drawn to continue to do the work I do. 

In the next weeks and months and years, we, the people of Pilgrim Congregational UCC, will join our resources, our talents, and our lives in community. We will support the marginalized and disadvantaged. If not directly, then through our actions and our efforts in mission with others. We will work to remove the blinders from the eyes of those who cannot see that the labels some attempt to place on others have no relevance when you realize we are all Children of God. We will work to spread a message of love and hope even to those who would argue against us. We will join with others at a single table (or multiple tables in one room) to share a meal, celebrate a life, remember a strong human connection, and pass along a message of support and encouragement to go out in the world and do good things. 

In the next weeks and months and years, We, The People will actually do the same sorts of things. We will find ways to heal the rifts of division which are more ideological and thus zealous rather than they are pragmatic and realistic. We will find areas of common ground, even if we have to scrabble backwards to even hope to move forward. We will engage, but not with weapons. We will engage with words. Words based in love and understanding. We will allow the meanness and the narcissism to roll off our backs while we watch instead for opportunities to bring kindness and welcome into the lives of others. We will NOT respond with the same level of vitriol as might be given, but will meet envy and scorn with love, and fear and disbelief with faith and hope. And hate will be met with love and kindness beyond measure. We will take breaks from the engagement to recharge and renew and replenish, looking to our friends and family to fill in our gaps. We will be vigilant in the face of dictatorial aggression and we will stand together and turn over the rocks and reveal the truth. Because the truth will set us free. Free to love and to worship and to serve as we choose and as God asked of us. 

So, welcome to the Crowded Table. You are in good company. Your welcome at the Table does not have any other price than what you are willing to give. Do you have a particular talent? It might be of benefit to a program or an event here. Do you have a particular skill? We might just need that skill, or know someone who would benefit from it. Do you have some spare change you want to donate to the cause? We can surely find a use for that, too. We will find moments to clasp a hand, share a laugh, and sing a song. Some of the songs will be old and familiar, and others will be new and filled with something we need right now. They will raise the spirits and bring comfort, or they will empower and energize us with new light.  

So, gather ‘round the Table and join in. As the song and the saying goes: “We Shall Overcome.” Let’s join together in one voice and make a new kind of “Joyful Noise”!

Pilgrim Is A Crowded Table, But There Is Still Room For Me

By Mary Flynn

“Wherever you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here.” You may have heard that mantra so many times that it no longer feels meaningful to you, but it is very meaningful to me.

I moved to Bozeman from New York City, where I practiced as a trial lawyer in finance for 30+ years, and where I raised my children. My compensation was based on the clients I could bring in and the hours I could bill, so I was always hustling, working 70 hour weeks. In my world, stress and exhaustion were status symbols. My goal was just to make it through the day.

Our family took an annual ski vacation in Big Sky for many years. When the last of our kids moved out 8 years ago, my husband and I bought a house in Bozeman, intending to retire here "someday". In January 2020 while we were here skiing, however, the pandemic shut down our office in New York City, and my husband and I began working remotely from Bozeman. When it became time to go back to the office in New York, my husband and I decided to stay in Bozeman, work remotely and just fly back to New York when we had to.

When my oldest child was a senior in high school in New York in 2012, she developed a serious substance-abuse problem. Over the next 10 years we tried everything to help her: counseling, medication, five rehab stints, and two stints in a mental hospital. At times she improved, but by 2019 she had a crippling fentanyl addiction and was living on the streets in southern California. I was flying to California to see her, search for her, plead with her, try to rescue her, get her a meal and a bed, or visit her in jail. But I could not fix her. Then, on July 11, 2022, her partner of 3 years was shot and killed in a 7-Eleven parking lot in southern California. In her grief, my daughter agreed to go to treatment (again), but I did not get my hopes up. This time, however, it worked. The difference this time was that my daughter truly surrendered to a higher power. She found God, spirituality and peace. It has been over two years, and she is sober, happy, successful, introspective, giving and grateful. The change has been remarkable.

Last year after seeing the change in her after only one year, I said to myself, "I'll have what she's having." So I started looking for a church in Bozeman. I was raised Irish Catholic, but church to me as a kid was just memorizing meaningless responses. A dealbreaker for me in finding a church in Bozeman was that it had to be open and affirming. One of my kids is non-binary, and I would never go to a church in which they are not welcome. I went to a few services at different churches, but when I saw the two banners outside Pilgrim Church, I knew it was going to be different. And then Pastor Laura started the service with that welcome message: "No matter who you are and where you are on life's journey, you are welcome here." I felt like she was talking directly to me. And then she asked everyone to pause and take a deep breath. I don't think I had done that in 30 years. Just one deep breath in this welcoming place, and I felt something unusual. It was peace. So I stayed for the whole service, and then I came back week after week. There was nothing to memorize. Every week there was a meaningful message. Even though I was unfamiliar with Protestantism and Bible stories, and not sure what I “believed”, I was still welcome at Pilgrim. One week, Pastor Laura referred to the church as a spiritual gas station -- where you could fill your tank and go on your way. And that is exactly how I felt. It's how I still feel every week, and it's how I now understand my daughter’s experience.

I decided that I had made enough rich white men richer in my life, and I retired from practicing law at the end of last year. I felt like I was missing the “service to others” part of the secret to peace and joy. I began volunteering around Bozeman, and I joined the social justice team at Pilgrim. This wonderful group of resolute and effective women dedicate their time and talents to those in our world who are vulnerable or struggling. Most of them have known each other for a long time, but they made room for me at their crowded table and welcomed me to the team. I am truly grateful for being a part of Pilgrim. My tank is full.

Full Table

By Bruce Smith

You may have seen the scene above in the church narthex. It is a batik, an intricate painting method that uses wax, dying and boiling to produce the desired design. Jeanne and I spotted this near the rafters of a “tourist trap” in Kenya at the end of one of our trips. We were struck both by the dramatic color and the quite different depiction of the Last Supper. We were intrigued that its disciples seemed to resemble the real disciples more than our Sunday School versions. We also liked the greater sense that it was a real meal in which folks had been eating and talking. Studying it, however, we can have no doubt that chitchat has stopped and all are paying careful attention to Jesus.

At this First Communion, or Last Supper as it’s generally known, Jesus opened the table to his most beloved companions who included a questioning doubter, a couple societal rejects, the man who was about to betray him and Peter who would deny him within hours. It was quite a crew and one of the reasons the realism and even scruffiness of the disciples in the batik attracted me. Not only were they imperfect but there was quite a diversity from fishermen to a hated tax collector. Jesus’ acceptance and willingness to pour out love to such a motley group provides a model for churches today as people come to our table, not only for communion but in all aspects of church life. Jesus’ ministry at the communion table and throughout the gospel stories is to show love, healing, and salvation to anyone, not those with whom he might feel most comfortable.

I’m pretty comfortable that Pilgrim works to provide that openness and acceptance. Since my first time walking through the doors, I’ve been impressed with the friendliness and concern for each other that typifies, for me, this congregation. Sometimes I wish we were more successful in reaching further into our community. While we can always strive to be better, I feel that our table, in the broadest sense, is open and that we only work and hope that it becomes fuller.

But there is another aspect that I’ll mention in this stewardship season. To commemorate that First Communion/Last Supper someone took care of quite a few logistics. The Upper Room was furnished, cleaned and the roof didn’t leak. Someone baked the bread and purchased the wine not to mention the courses which, if it was a proper Passover meal, were quite extensive. And didn’t someone look after carrying water in and lighting the candles? Afterwards, someone also had to pick up and do the dishes.

In a similar way, as our church offers it’s own table of spiritual nourishment, companionship, social justice and even Sunday snacks, there is a need to take care of the background logistics, staff and building. And that’s where our contributions of time, money and expertise come in. As we move through this stewardship season, please take time to consider how you might help equip our “table” to serve all those that want to come to it.

A Praying Season

By Carolyn Pinet

Shorter, darker days

blend into each other,

spill fall

where everything dies,

openly lovely.

A red-gold canopy cascades down

and we, who trample it,

also transform, become

other than we thought,

strange, indisguise,

trailing to the cemetary with offerings,

our lanterns lit.

The “trick or treat” is done,

it’s serious now.

We slip envelopes into the box,

penances begging for mercy, atonement,

pleading for the masquerading monsters

to vanish into thin air.

On my door lover skeletons clack

In the high wind,

their pumpkin heads wither.

We light our candles,

strain to remember needed words

wafting on the current with the tide

where stars illuminate a sailing

pilgrimage under a silver coined moon.

When we reach the ocean,

will it rise with the dolphins to greet us?

Will the saints burst into song?

November burns bright in the bonfire on Parliament Square

and Guy goes up in smoke.

We burn, hope to rise from the ashes,

blow over the bridge and into the same tidal river,

the one that wrinkles and flows

into the waxing, wavering ocean.

Ah, may time hold us rapt and singing

in a restorative, shining sea!

There Is Always Room For One More

By Sarah Hollier

My sweet, nerdy sixth-grader came home one day and reported an incident in the lunch-room. I braced myself for the worst, but by the end of his tale, my heart was overflowing with relief, pride and love.

Daniel and his best friend, Ian, were sitting at a table with several other boys when a boy from their small math group came up with his lunch tray, looking for a seat. Before he could even say anything, an assertive, more popular boy said, “This table is already full.”

My son matter-of-factly related the scene: “Well, I looked at Ian and Ian looked at me, and we both moved our chairs a little bit and then grabbed another chair from a nearby table and I said, “There's always room for one more.” And they made room for the initially rejected boy.

I asked if the boy who said the table was full had said anything after that. “Nope, we just all started eating again and the three of us talked about math.”

Pilgrim UCC is a place where there is always room for one more, and that is one of the aspects that I most value about this community. It doesn't matter what you look like, how much money you make, or give, to Pilgrim. It doesn't matter if you have no church background or have been going to church for years. It doesn't matter if you don't know if you even believe in God or not. Everyone, EVERYONE is welcome here. Jesus did not discriminate against anyone, and neither do we, and that is the kind of community I want to be a part of and am willing to support.

Please join me in supporting Pilgrim's work in becoming a Crowded Table by pledging your gift for the coming year. Together, we can build a community where not only are we all welcome, but we all thrive.

I Want a House With a Crowded Table

By Chris Fastnow

Hey! It’s Pledge Season! Woo Hoo!

Our theme for the Fall 2024 pledge campaign is A Crowded Table, a vivid illustration of Pilgrim’s new vision statement, implying both the justice we champion and our inclusive welcome. Pilgrim inclusively, abundantly welcomes, feeds, and warms our church community, our valley, Montana, and our global family at our Crowded Table.

This year, I have seen Pilgrim’s Crowded Tables:

• covered with children’s activities in the sanctuary,

• ringed by youth and adults asking each other questions and listening intently to the answers in the Boyd Room,

• filled with potluck dishes shared among congregants practicing tricky holiday conversations,

• papered with sticky notes documenting honest and loving disagreements about strategic planning,

• loaded with fancy teas (and pastries!) at the local tea house to celebrate an important milestone,

• draped in a rainbow flag with stickers and information about Pilgrim’s wide welcome during Pride weekend,

• and reverently holding the elements as we celebrated Christ’s inclusive invitation to communion together post-pandemic.

What does Pilgrim’s Crowded Table look like for you? Is it a table at Fork and Spoon, in another country where friends have traveled to provide medical support, at a hospice bedside, in a kitchen celebrating or grieving with a trusted friend, hosting a potluck for Groovin’ Spirits, covered with quilt fabric and a humming sewing machine, lifting up toys and board books in the nursery, under the trees at Red Cliff, Mimanagish, or a Women of Pilgrim garden party, or in the back of the sanctuary holding sound and recording equipment for online and hearing-assisted worship?

To paraphrase the Highwomen’s wonderful song (click here for the Groovin Spirits’ version), I want a church with a Crowded Table. Crowded Tables may be in turn warm, noisy, festive, solemn, satisfying, cozy, and uncomfortable. We might have to scooch over to make room or pass on a second dessert for our neighbor to have theirs. We might need someone else just to hold the fork for us one week but prepare a lavish feast the next. What an apt metaphor for a thriving church!

Pledge season is a great time to celebrate and support this important work. Will you join me by making your pledge? Click the Donate button on the church website to set up automatic payments, and send in a pledge card (you can email me: stewardship@uccbozeman.org if you don’t get one this week… or misplace it along the way).

It’s Pledge Season! Let’s celebrate!

Culture of Call

By Rev. Laura Folkwein

October is “Pastor Appreciation Month,” according to…I’m not sure who, but I’m willing to go with it! I am writing about the occasion, not to nudge you into giving me anything extra as the pastor here at Pilgrim UCC, Bozeman, (although offers of dark chocolate will never be refused) but to spend a moment thinking about all the pastors who have influenced me.

My dad, Rev. Ed Folkwein, comes to mind first. Though not my earliest pastor, he was both pastor and parent to me for the longest amount of time. Though my dad is gone from this life, I feel his assuring spirit and encouragement with me often in my own ministry. I miss his ridiculous sense of humor, his deep compassion for anyone in trouble or hurting, and his love of the mountain west. He spent decades of his ministry in rural Montana. His ministry showed me that it is not the biggest church or the most prestigious ministry role that matters, but one’s care for all God’s people and creation wherever you land.

Other clergy who have influenced my life are Rev. Bill Kliber, who married my parents long before I arrived, but whose influence in ministry reached me early in life; Rev. Susan Twidwell, a United Methodist clergywoman showed me that someone like me (an awkward and shy teenager) might be a pastor too; my own campus minister at the University of Puget Sound, Rev. Jim Davis, and the chaplain now in his position who I deeply respect, Rev. Dave Wright. More UMC clergywomen, Revs. Janet Horman and Kathryn Johnson, both employers and mentors who gently shoved me out the door to seminary. I am also deeply appreciative of my current clergy colleagues in our Montana-Northern Wyoming UCC Conference. They are wise, persistent, kind, and often very funny people. One must keep a sense of humor in this “odd and wondrous calling” - the words of another UCC pastor and author.

In late September, representatives of 16 or our 23 Montana-Northern Wyoming Conference churches gathered in Billings for our Conference Annual Meeting. The theme was “Many Gifts, One Spirit: Creating a culture of call.” All the pastors mentioned above sensed a call to serve God by serving God’s people through ordained ministry. This October, I wonder who the pastors are who influenced your faith journey? Maybe you will send them a note, or say a prayer, of thanks. I know they would love that. Even more importantly, call is not only for clergy. What is YOUR call to serve this complicated and beautiful world in the way only you can, with your unique gifts? I wouldn’t be doing my part in the “culture of call,” if I didn’t also encourage you to reach out if you are sensing a call to ministry. Our conference just approved 84-year-old Barbara Gulick for ordination to a call of spiritual direction. If you sense God’s tug on your life towards ministry, let’s talk. You might be someone’s appreciated pastor someday too!

Hyalite Hike

By Bruce Smith

Recently Jeanne and I hiked to Hyalite Lake.  Along the way I experienced some special moments that I thought might be worth sharing.  So here goes.

The incomparable Montana blue showing through the evergreen branches on top of a canyon ridge.

The perfect symmetry of an intricately fabricated spider’s web shimmering in the morning light.  Who knew that multiple colors reflected off those strands in a tiny kaleidoscope?

Speaking of those strands, what hiker has not run into these strands of web. Apparently arachnids enjoy spinning these threads across paths.  But how many have witnessed the proprietor busily making her way up that stand?  Watching her we wondered why she’d spun it there and where she was going.  So many unanswered questions when we take time to really see nature.

The perfect moving V on the face of a placid alpine lake as a duck paddles its way across.

A special moment as a squirrel, with cone in mouth, stopped to study me as we stared in mutual regard along a branch. Did we share some bit of cross-species communication as our eyes met?  Maybe.

And the other squirrel who ignored us as it dismembered, petal by petal, another cone.  Normally, with our staring so close, they would skitter but this guy just sat and ate voraciously.  Finishing and tossing the stem aside, he squeaked the normal warning, turned tail, and properly skittered away.

Morning light filtering its way among the trees as the sun rose over the canyon walls.

The incomparable song of a mountain stream accompanying us along our way.

The story of eons appearing on the nearby mountainside.  Written in the texture of changing rocks.

The joy of sharing the experience when Susan Byorth and Patti Gehman came over to our luncheon spot on the lake.

Standing at stream level on rubble with water flowing underneath and around just below a waterfall.  When does one get to feel like part of the stream itself without getting wet?

Light playing on the rippling, pooling, and tumbling water making its way down the winding way of its streambed.

The taste of a few very ripe, remaining thimbleberries.

The surprising blaze of a dozen yellow flowers standing proud against the fading greens of September.

The variety of waterfalls, each with its own character and flowing beauty.

 Intervals of woodsy smells.  Are the trees communicating through special scents?  Some think so.

Being dwarfed by the mountains on either side.  Did the Psalmist feel like this when he asked, “What is man that you are mindful of him?” 

Such a day reminds us of Genesis 1:28: “God saw all that had made, and it was very good.”

Bad Words

by Martha Spong | published on Sep 23, 2024

[Jesus said,] “The good person out of the good treasure of the heart produces good, and the evil person out of evil treasure produces evil; for it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks.” – Luke 6:45 (NRSV)

During election seasons, it’s common for airtime to be given to the question of whether particular words are allowable when critiquing public figures. Whether scanning social media or reading an actual, old-fashioned newspaper, everyone has opinions about which words we use. Some words are deemed permissible; some words and images are never acceptable. And some words seem more or less offensive depending on whether we agree with the political position of the person using those words.

I try not to have a double standard, expecting one kind of language when I agree with a person and another when I do not. I want to think the measure I use would be pleasing to Jesus, but maybe I’m really just following the rule laid down by Thumper’s mother in the Disney classic, Bambi: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Nice words are important.

Yet there are times for hard words, too—times when injustice, cruelty, racism, and other bigotry must be named by people of good faith using challenging, even confrontational words. Otherwise “bad” words can serve a good purpose; their strength can shock us into rethinking our assumptions.

Does a word illuminate a situation or accelerate a fight for the sake of disagreement? Are we righteously angry, or simply angry? Are our hard words a product of a “good treasure of the heart?”

Sometimes, yes.

Prayer

Holy Jesus, help me to find good, strong words when they are needed. Amen.

Discussion Questions

When have you put a “bad” word to good use? Have you ever put a “good” word to not-so-good use?

What are your expectations for how people—including how you yourself—critique public figures?

Share a story of when someone’s hard, challenging words prompted you to shift your thinking.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Martha Spong is a UCC pastor, a clergy coach, and editor of The Words of Her Mouth: Psalms for the Struggle, from The Pilgrim Press. This reflection was originally posted on the United Church of Christ’s website as a Daily Devotional from the StillSpeaking Writers’ Group: https://www.ucc.org/daily-devotional/ and accessed on September 25, 2024. Used with permission.

What Have You to Do with Us?

by Talitha Arnold

Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” – Mark 1:23-24 (NRSV)

Jesus had just come out of the wilderness, called his first followers, and was in the middle of his first sermon in Capernaum. Then a man “with an unclean spirit” showed up yelling, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” What a way to start a ministry!

Actually, I can’t think of a better story to begin the good news of Jesus Christ. His first miracle isn’t walking on water or feeding the multitudes. It’s healing someone with “an unclean spirit”—a 1st century description of mental illness.

Then, as now, such persons were often among the most isolated and vulnerable people of their communities. Yet there are more accounts of Jesus’ caring for persons with mental illness than all other healing stories combined. That says something about his ministry—and ours.

Moreover, when Jesus met the man in the Capernaum synagogue and other persons with “unclean spirits” or demons, he didn’t condemn or judge them. He didn’t address their faith issues or need for forgiveness as he did in other healing stories. Instead he differentiated between the “unclean spirit” and the person it was attacking—a person who deserved his compassion and help.

If such understanding was important for Jesus, then it’s important for the Church. In our time, as in Jesus’s, persons with mental illness and those who love and care for them often echo the Capernaum man’s cry, “What have you to do with us?”

“Quite a bit,” Jesus answered unequivocally. That needs to be our answer, too.

Prayer

Hear our prayer, Lord, for those afflicted with mental illness and those who care for them. Hear our prayer, too, for our congregations to respond with Jesus’ compassion and understanding. Amen.

Take Action

If your faith community strives to better understand and support those living with mental illnesses, check out the congregational toolkit and other resources available through the UCC Mental Health Network.

About the Author
Talitha Arnold is Senior Minister of the United Church of Santa Fe (UCC), Santa Fe, New Mexico. She is the author of Mark Parts 1 and 2 of the Listen Up! Bible Study series and Worship for Vital Congregations.

Ponderings: The Power of Prayer

By Susan Wordal

I’ve been thinking, lately, about the power of prayer. We are constantly asked to pray for things or people; for cures and for the end to war and strife. But you wonder, sometimes, if it really helps. Being something of a skeptic, I’m not totally sure. But then, I don’t put it to the test much.

So, I went looking for some guidance from “the good book” as they say. Given that I look at the Bible the way I do any other collection of stories, it’s literature and you get out of it what you find in it, I figured maybe there would be some help there. Besides, it can be fun to see what happens when you type a query into a search engine.

One of the first verses I found was short, sweet, and rather to the point:

“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” Romans 12:12 (ESV)

I thought this translation was a little better than the NIV version which has us being joyful and then patient in affliction. I think tribulation is a better word than affliction. It suggests we are given challenges, or trials, or misfortunes (tribulations), not just illness or a disorder to work through or be patient while it does what it does. It fits with what I do believe about God. The Creator doesn’t heap bad things upon us, or throw these things in our path. Rather, the Creator walks with us as a comfort, as a friend, as a helper. We aren’t judged by the Creator based on how we handle the good or the bad. As long as we turn our sights or our prayers on the Creator in all situations, then we will get through them. Seems to fit the message in Romans.

And then I run into a verse like: “And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith.” Matthew 21:22 (ESV), which seems to alter my theory out of all proportion. It suggests that if we have faith, but our prayer isn’t answered, then we didn’t have enough faith. I’m not entirely sure that’s really the message, but if you can say it one way, you can say it the other, so what is that all about?? I mean, we ask for healing for people, we ask for a stop to war, we ask for peace, and yet we lose good people to diseases we hate, we listen to the news of war in places near and far, and we struggle for peace, even in our own communities, and yet, these things don’t happen. How do we believe in prayer and its power when we don’t see the changes we want?

And then we come across a “human interest story” in the paper, or on the internet, or we hear an anecdote from a friend about someone who did something out of the goodness of their heart, or put themselves in peril for another. It’s those stories that get me. It’s those stories that make me think: What if the answer to my prayer for peace, or the answer to my prayer for salvation of another is not exactly what I envisioned, but what the Creator finds they can achieve on that day? What if the Creator does the best they can to answer the call, but not all tribulations are within their power? What if the individual stories are written? What if our paths are somehow pre-ordained to some extent and our presence here serves a higher purpose than the one for which we pray?

“But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” Luke 6:27-28 (ESV)

Maybe this is why the power of prayer works. The Creator is not a discriminating entity. Their power is shown in large ways and small ones. But if we are to truly turn bad things around, then we have to be willing to say a prayer for those who do bad things, who think bad thoughts, who grasp power for the sake of power. Praying for those people doesn’t involve asking for anything complicated. We ask for that which is possible: that those hurt might recover or find peace; that those who might be impacted will be spared, and if they cannot be spared, that they will be helped or will be at peace; that those who must live under someone bent on grasping power will be set free. It’s all about how you phrase your prayer.

So, here’s my prayer: That those who seek to hurt may see the error of their ways and reform, that those who harbor bad thoughts may be released from them and find inner peace, that those who seek power or abuse their authority may be brought to understand the harm they do and find a different way.

See, I didn’t ask for retribution. I didn’t ask for a plague of locusts or the proverbial collision with a semi or other destructive force. In my understanding of the universe, we deal only with what is within our control. The ultimate answer to the prayer is above our pay grade. I had to learn that as a prosecutor. It’s not a job you can do without learning that, sometimes, you cannot achieve a just outcome for a victim, but you know you aren’t the only avenue for accountability. And the Creator will continue to walk with us and provide us with choices for what we can do within our earthly ability. IE: the power to learn and then educate, the power to stand up and seek justice for all (even when it’s one bad act addressed at a time), the power to cast an informed vote. When we are faced with a choice that sounds more like the rock vs the hard place, then we must trust that we will get through it, and if we don’t get through it unscathed, then we are either an example for someone else (walking in grace through a medical issue), or we must learn something to later pass along to another.

And there is power in prayer, if used correctly and with grace. It might not move the proverbial mountain, but it can have the same impact, if only through the eyes of another. So, use that power wisely and well. Ask for what is possible, but don’t expect a miracle so much as peace, even if it is only internal and known only to you. Offer a hand when you are able and know that, at the end of our path, sometimes there are two sets of footprints in the sand, and sometimes there is only one set. At those times, we were carried by faith, whether ours or someone else’s.

So, embrace the power of prayer. What is the mountain you want to move? How can that happen, and what concrete acts of positivity can you perform to aid in making that prayer come true? And what must you learn to accept? What is beyond those concrete acts of positivity? How will you find the wisdom to do what you must and accept what you must and yet, bring about hope? Let’s see what your prayer can do today.

Biblical Displaced People, Refugees, and Immigrants

By Bruce Smith

I expect we’re going to hear a great deal about displaced people, immigration and refugees in the coming weeks. With that in mind, I thought it might be useful to take a look at Biblical accounts of such people to see if their stories might be a guide for us. As I spent some time with the stories, I found that displaced people play an important, complicated, and critical part of the Bible’s narrative. For this week I thought I’d share them with you.

The first is Abraham, who because of a calling, leaves his homeland and heads uninvited into a distant land where he had to make his way. He becomes established and is the forebearer of Israel and the original Patriarch of Jewish history. In one remarkable passage he feeds and entertains strangers who turn out to be angels. They provide the blessing of, at long last, a child for he and his wife, Sarah. The history of the Israelites/Jewish people begins with this forefather who is blessed for welcoming strangers. Remembering this, the writer of Hebrews urges us to welcome strangers who just might turn out to be angels.

Abraham’s great grandson Joseph is displaced when he is sold into slavery (human trafficking) and taken to Egypt. There, even as an alien, he begins to make his way. He is unfairly jailed on false charges but saved through divine intervention while in prison. He is given great power and saves the family that will become the Israelite nation from starvation. Because of famine that family immigrates to Egypt where, after a time, their offspring become unwanted and are subjected to harsh slavery.

That enslavement leads to the epic story of the Old Testament, Moses leads a multitude of despised slaves in their escape out of Egypt and into their promised land. Not surprisingly, conflicts with the original inhabitants result from this mass immigration. A story that sounds very modern and familiar!

There are two refugee stories in the poignant book of Ruth. The book begins when a man flees starvation from a famine to settle in an alien country. There he establishes a family that, unfortunately, is devastated by premature deaths. Then Ruth, a widowed alien, lovingly follows her mother-in-law to live in poverty in her adopted country. From that questionable beginning she becomes the mother of the founding dynasty of the Israelite kingdom and the forebearer of Jesus himself. A destitute foreigner thus becomes a forebearer of the Messiah.

The Jewish nation, itself, is forced into exile where they “weep by the waters of Babylon” as a displaced minority for 40 years before being allowed to resettle in their native land and continue the narrative that is our Bible. Psalm 137 describes the misery and the horror of the destruction of Jerusalem as do large portions of the book of Lamentations. Despite its name, the book of Lamentations also contains of one of the most uplifting passages in the Bible, “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” How many exiles have clung to a similar hope?

The book of Esther, set in exile times, tells the story of the Jews barely avoiding annihilation as a persecuted minority of foreigners. The courage of Esther and her uncle save them.

And there is the story of Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus fleeing Herod’s deadly persecution to safety in Egypt where they apparently take up residence for years. In time, they return to Palestine where Jesus begins his world-changing ministry.

In each of these cases the leading character has left or been forced from their native land when circumstances left them in an untenable situation. In each case they find acceptance, sometimes not easily, and become key players in the Biblical story. This despite what was almost certainly uneasiness, wariness, concern, and even outright opposition. As “others” they were encroaching on the status quo. Because of their success, however, God’s grace is made active in the world.

In keeping with the recent series on “I’ve Been Meaning to Ask,” I’ll close with this question to ponder. What do these Bible stories tell us about displaced people, refugees, and immigration today?

Keep Praying

by Martha Spong

And [Jesus] said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’” – Luke 11:5-6 (NRSVUE)

When the disciples asked Jesus how to pray, he first gave them words—what we know as the Lord’s Prayer (Luke 11:1-4)—and then he gave them direction: be persistent in your prayers. He offered up stories to explain the mood of prayer. If you ask a friend for help, and the friend says no because it’s inconvenient, the friend will help anyway if you just keep asking. If your child asks you for something, you will give it to them, right? So keep asking God for what you need.

Keep praying.

My Baptist grandmother kept regular appointments to talk with God. I remember peeking at the extensive prayer list she kept in a notebook, praying for people she knew around the world. She was determinedly positive about the work her prayer would do. I wonder what she asked for herself?

I don’t know about you, but that is something I have struggled to do. Praying for other people comes more naturally. In the story of the loaves of bread, I imagine myself as the one being roused from sleep to receive a request—not the one asking for help—and I recognize now that my impulse misunderstands the story, even though it is straightforward. God is the one who responds, whatever the time of day or night, to give us what we need.

So. Keep praying.

Prayer:

God of Midnights, I don’t always know what I need. Hear my prayer. Hear my prayer. Hear my prayer. Amen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Martha Spong is a UCC pastor, a clergy coach, and editor of The Words of Her Mouth: Psalms for the Struggle, from The Pilgrim Press. This reflection was originally posted on the United Church of Christ’s website as a Daily Devotional from the StillSpeaking Writers’ Group: https://www.ucc.org/daily-devotional/ and accessed on August 28, 2024. Used with permission

Endings and Beginnings

By Wendy Morical

The annual Montana State ritual of Move-In Day has been accomplished. Thousands of students, with boxes and crates of possessions, have been moved into their dorm rooms on campus. Driving to Pilgrim on College Street this past Sunday, I passed clusters of young people with family members loading carts to haul belongings into their new homes. Unexpectedly, tears sprang to my eyes as I watched. I’ve been thinking about what may have triggered that emotional response.

Naturally, there’s nostalgia associated with remembering my parents making that trip with me and the enormity of the shift from being a child in my mom and dad’s house to being an adult in Burton Hall. Poignant, too, is the memory of my own children heading off to school and the conflicting, wrenching emotions that accompanied launching them into their independent lives. We all cheered on Sunday to celebrate Quinn’s college adventure beginning this week, but even that spontaneous, joyful moment was tinged with the sadness of losing Quinn.

Transitions, growth, loss, change: essential qualities of our pilgrimage through life. It can feel overwhelming to tally up the things we’ve had to let go of over the course of a season or year. I’ve lost friends to retirement and relocation, family members to illness and infirmity. Our church family has experienced several deaths during the past year. Rather than keep an ever-growing list of sorrows, however, we might remind ourselves that our lives are a journey – the destination both within us and beyond us. To be human is to experience change.

Mindfulness practices, prayer, and healthy maturation help us to focus on what David Whyte calls the “eternal now.” Our existence, a daily gift, and our journey, a series of revelations, comprise our own pilgrim’s journey:

“The great measure of the pilgrim journey of human maturation is the increasing understanding that we move through life in the blink of an eye; that we are not long with the privilege of having eyes to see, ears to hear, a voice with which to speak and arms to put round a loved one; that we are simply passing through. We are creatures made real through contact, meeting and then moving on; creatures who, saying hello and saying goodbye, strangely, never get to choose one above the other.” (Whyte, Consolations, p.186)

My spontaneous tears at witnessing a happy day in the lives of total strangers were a result, I believe, of an elemental awareness of this eternal movement. It’s hard to be human, but God’s goodness and love surround and sustain us at every juncture in our pilgrimage. The miracle is that an ending for us may be another’s beginning – in this life or the next. May we embrace our journeys and give thanks for the revelation of each day.

Such Great Lengths

By Vicki Kemper

Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in the flame of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight and see why the bush is not burned up.” - Exodus 3:1-3 (NRSV, adapted)

Chances are you know this story: How God called Moses from a burning bush. How God told Moses to take off his shoes because he was standing on holy ground. How Moses resisted God’s call to deliver the ancient Israelites from slavery in Egypt.

Now consider what the story doesn’t say: How long God had been trying to get Moses’ attention.

In the birth of his child, maybe. Through his feelings of guilt and regret. In the satisfaction he felt rescuing a lost lamb. In how alone and lost he felt, despite years with his wife’s family. In the stark beauty of the wilderness.

Note that God didn’t stop trying to get through. Instead, God went to great lengths, finally resorting to setting a bush on fire.

Notice also that Moses hadn’t gone on retreat to listen for a holy word; he was simply going about his normal business.

Take a moment to consider how many blessings you have missed because you didn’t take them seriously. Wonder how many angels you haven’t met because you were too busy to turn aside.

Consider that you, too, are standing on holy ground, and that God has a word for you.

Prayer:

To all the ways you continue to reach out to me, open my heart and focus my attention.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Vicki Kemper is the Pastor of First Congregational, UCC, of Amherst, Massachusetts. This reflection was originally posted on the United Church of Christ’s website as a Daily Devotional from the StillSpeaking Writers’ Group: https://www.ucc.org/daily-devotional/ and accessed on August 5, 2024. Used with permission.

Go!

By Talitha Arnold

Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” - Genesis 12:1 (NRSV)

Each January, Pulitzer Prize winning columnist Mary Schmich invites her readers to pick a guiding word for the year—an idea that came from a reader named Mae. Mary is clear it is not a resolution nor a goal, but simply a word to shape the 365 days ahead. In 2016, Mary’s word was “pause.” As 2021 began and the pandemic continued, it was “endurance.”

Mary’s readers often send her their words. A class of fourth graders chose “kindness.” For some high schoolers, their words ranged from “balance” and “self-acceptance" to “wanderlust” and “ataraxia.” (Mary said she had to look it up. I did, too.)

Ancient Abram’s word had to have been “go,” as in: “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house.” Go from all that was familiar and comfortable. But also “go” from that which no longer brought life. Abram’s father Terah had died in that land and that house. His journey was over. Abram’s wasn’t. “Go,” God said.

“Go.” It’s not as long as other words and probably not as deep or profound. Yet I want “go” to be my guiding word for the days ahead. I’d like it to guide the congregation I serve, too, as we continue to figure out what it means to be the church—to be faithful—in this time. “Go,” even if we don’t know where the journey will lead. “Go,” even if we seldom see the way ahead. “Go,” because we can trust the One who goes with us.

Prayer

Lord, thank you for the new journey ahead. Help us to trust that you go with us every step of the way. Amen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Talitha Arnold is Senior Minister of the United Church of Santa Fe (UCC), Santa Fe, New Mexico. She is the author of Mark Parts 1 and 2 of the Listen Up! Bible Study series and Worship for Vital Congregations. This reflection was originally posted on the United Church of Christ’s website as a Daily Devotional from the StillSpeaking Writers’ Group: https://www.ucc.org/daily-devotional/ and accessed on August 5, 2024. Used with permission.

A Reflection on the Power of Us

I remember as a girl growing up in Great Falls the organizations with which my Mom and my Grandmother Irene belonged. There was the Junior League of Great Falls and P.E.O., as well as their bridge group(s) [I think there was more than 1}. There was also the CM Russell Museum. I know these were their groups because they were always going to meetings or playing bridge, and it was always with the same people. I didn’t think much about it at the time, I just figured it was what everyone did.

My first clue that these groups were more than “ladies who lunch” or did service projects was when I figured out that the Junior League was a chapter, and to have a chapter, the community needed a population approaching 100,000 people. So, many communities in MT didn’t have a chapter other than Great Falls and Billings (that I knew of for sure). And I learned this about the time my Mom became the President of the Junior League. And Mom ended up having to have a 2nd landline installed in the house for all the Junior League phone calls and business she had to do, so as not to tie up our house line. Keep in mind, this was l0-0-0-o-ng before cell phones. We weren’t supposed to call the Jr. League number, since that was for Jr. League business. But what’s a girl to do when the house line is busy? If I got a busy signal on the Jr. League line, then I knew both my Mom and my sister were at home and on the phone and I had to call Grandma! [fortunately, by then she lived across the street and was always available to pick a kid up when needed]

Now, I did ask what P.E.O. was, but I never got a very straight answer. You can look it up, but essentially, it’s a service organization. Since Mom was in a sorority in college, this made sense. There were chapters, just like with fraternities and sororities, and the name itself wasn’t for “public consumption” but their work was important. They were about empowering, celebrating, and supporting women. Their projects advanced educational objectives and helped girls get scholarships, etc. I figure that’s a pretty important bit of business.

And both the Jr. League and the P.E.O. chapters they were involved in had ties to the Russell Museum. I loved that place. They had programming in the summer for kids, often centered around art. I loved knowing this was a place that supported and maintained the work of C.M. Russell as well as other artists. I mean, I went to a high school named after the man and apparently, he had done one of his paintings on my grandfather’s cattle ranch, so that was an awesome connection.

But why, might you ask, did I call a bridge group an “organization” and group it with these other groups? And the answer is simple: the ties of women. Even though they were there to “play cards” they did more than just track tricks and who won high and who won low. They talked. They talked about issues, they talked about kids, they talked about who needed their help, and who could just use a boost. They talked about which of their groups was selling tickets to what event, who needed help on what committee, and when the next fundraiser was scheduled. And when they weren’t getting together, they were calling around to see who could host, or give a ride to an older member, or who could handle the phone tree next. Sound familiar? Yep, it’s the ‘70’s and ‘80’s version of social media! And they were really good at it!

“And what does this have to do with anything?” you might ask. Well, it was women leading by example. Women doing that networking thing that they learned in college or through work or by the example of other women. It’s a system that has been around for centuries. Many of these women who were “leading by example” in my life and the lives of others had been in the sorority/fraternity system in college, but not all of them. And yet, wherever they were, they figured out how to get things done., and this includes 1st Congregational UCC in Great Falls. [YEP! They were there, too!] They didn’t blow their horn, or say “Hey! Look at me!” They just did it and kept on doing it. And kids like me learned, not because we were lectured, but because we saw it work. So, when we stepped out of high school and began to make our own decisions, join our own groups, establish our own groups, we drew on these examples.

I’m now decades away from those years. I like looking back now and then. It’s nostalgic to remember how we did things before computers and cell phones and social media. And yet, the essential things haven’t really changed. Some things get done faster with those electronic gadgets, but the principals of how to do it haven’t really changed. Those lessons were invaluable for me and for many women of my generation and the men who noticed and appreciated the women in their lives and the things they were capable of doing. They learned not to put up roadblocks or barriers. They learned to work with us to reach the goal.

Love and caring aren’t always expressed with words. Often, actions speak louder and with more power if we look hard enough. You can’t do what these women from my childhood did, and still do if they can, without loving and caring for their fellow human beings. So, I honor them. All of them who laid the groundwork for me. They showed their resilience and their strength at a time when the “glass ceiling” was still a thing and we were still breaking down barriers. We still have a few barriers to remove, but God will see us through, as God has seen us through all the others. Not because God moved mountains, but because God gave us the strength and the resilience to confront those obstacles and network to get the job done. It takes all of us. I learned that early and often.

Thanks, Mom! [Grandma Irene, too!]

But Just Consider This...

By Carolyn Pinet

Near the Clark Fork River, Iris the Osprey

plumps herself over a large egg

and we hold our breath in anxious anticipation

of a hatch.

We are all in the dark about this iffy endeavor,

Hope wrestles with Fear as in a hard fought fight:

two enemies dip and plunge, plunge and dip

while, mesmerized, we wait.

Let's face it: Hope stays defiant in

an attempt to overcome Fear.

We go pale with unreason,

clench our fingers, bite our lips

and long for a cure-all spell to bring

us to our senses in this troubled time

when some birds, confused by the vagaries

of the weather, lose all sense of direction

and fall flailing to the earth.

So - let's turn to one another and urge,

"Keep the faith! Keep the faith!"

Yes, we are often in the dark

and overcome with fear,

but just consider the osprey:

she knows exactly what she's doing -

here she is, maternal, protective, proud,

as, at last, her chick emerges from the shell,

to charm and delight us all

in this wayward, wondrous world,

luminous and lit with birdsong.

(..."The fundamental things apply as time goes by"!)

Words from the Dalai Lama

By Bruce Smith

Jeanne and I were enjoying an anniversary trip to the Four Corners area a few years ago.  On our way home we stopped in Durango where we had time to explore the downtown stores.  A banner we saw there caught our eye and now graces a wall in our home.  It features a series of sayings by the Dalai Lama that I felt worth sharing. To me, they embody some excellent thoughts for each of us and our church.

 May I Become at All Times Both Now and Forever

A Protector for Those Without Protection

A Guide for Those Who’ve Lost Their Way

A Ship for Those with Oceans to Cross

A Bridge for Those with Rivers to Cross

A Sanctuary for Those in Danger

A Lamp for Those Without Light

A Place of Refuge for Those Without Shelter

And a Servant to All in Need

Trust in God’s Dreams

By Laura Folkwein

One of my friends from seminary – we met over 20 years ago, which on its own is hard to imagine – has been reflecting on his ministry journey. He moved to Denver to attend Iliff School of Theology from LA, where he had been a comedian for twenty-five years. He says he was scared to death to make the career change into ministry, but he trusted God, his family, and himself to some extent, and for the past twenty years has been doing work he loves (and is particularly good at, if you ask me). He says, if you are considering a life change, do it. “Trust that God can dream bigger than you.”

His name is Rev. Jerry Herships. He’s on YouTube doing GodTalk regularly, and in person at Applewood Valley UMC in Golden, Colorado. Jerry’s the real deal. He has led church in bars and gathered people together (often in bars) to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to share with other people who were experiencing homelessness in City Park in Denver, along with Communion and clean socks and long johns when needed. He has gathered people together to raise funds for first and last month’s rent on new apartments and to help folks pay medical bills. He also served a church in the resort community of Aspen, Colorado, before going to Golden.

I’m telling you Jerry’s story because he is a friend who I relate to and look up to, and his stories often teach me things I need to hear, right when I need to hear them. Like, “Trust that God can dream bigger than you.”

I don’t know about you, but I find myself underestimating God, or the power of the universe, more often than I’d like to admit. When the daily news is full of tragedy and frustration, it is hard to imagine oneself taking big risks with career or love, or new ways of communicating. I really admire people like Jerry who do it anyway. They seem to be the ones who, in changing themselves, also change the rest of us, and maybe even the whole world. Seems like something God would be into, doesn’t it?