Self-Incrimination

Sometimes, I have a hard time being in church. I especially have a hard time when I’m feeling pretty good about myself, and the sermon strikes a nerve. It’s worse, when not only the sermon, but the responsive readings pick at the ugly little scabs on my soul.

This past Sunday, I hated being in church.

“Didn’t you preach this past Sunday?”

Yes, I’m afraid I did.  I remember carefully selecting all the elements of worship. Like these words I found for the Invitation to worship:

One: Help us to remember that we cannot receive all that you offer to us if our hearts are filled with thoughts and feelings that are not from you.

Many: So, take away self-righteousness, remove criticism, scrape away every wrong thought, every resentment, and everything that separates us from one another because these things also separate us from you.

They sounded to me like the words people needed to hear at the time. But even as I read them with the congregation, they chafed against my own feelings.

Then, as I listened to the lesson from the Hebrew Scriptures, again, words I chose for worship, I was stung by:

 "Don't seek revenge or carry a grudge against any of your people. “ (Leviticus 19:18)

But, of course, I argued, they aren’t words meant for me. So why did they discomfort me so?

The truth is, sometimes, the one for whom God means the message to target is standing at the front of the church in the pulpit speaking the words. So, as God would have it, I was convinced of the need to transform my own thinking. Would it surprise Jesus, that the one delivering the word was also the intended recipient?

Oh, no, not at all. So, I sit with my discomfort, and I pray that I will take that discomfort and turn it into growing pains.

Wearing It Well

I’m visiting New Orleans this week, and a “can’t miss” treat was going to the Camellia Grill on Carrollton Ave. It’s an old restaurant where everyone sits together at the counter that serpentines across the floor.

The servers all wear white jackets and black bowties, as they have since 1946. They exude southern hospitality, greeting customers with a warm smile, a little conversation (if you’re in the mood), and a drinking straw presented with a certain charming flair.

 

Although I’m not a native of New Orleans, the atmosphere was akin to being welcomed home. What was interesting to me was the next morning we decided to check out another location of the Camellia Grill. It’s newer. The food: the same (excellent). The servers wear the signature white jackets and black bowties. But I noticed that, except for one, the servers seemed to “wear” their uniform differently. They seemed to hang loosely with bowties askew. And while our server was pleasant enough, he seemed to miss the little details. The place just was not as “homey” as the original. 

It was not a difference in the ages of the servers, either. Most were young men, black and white. But the way the men on Carrollton Avenue wore their uniforms expressed a certain care, a graciousness that offered welcome. 

It strikes me that how we carry ourselves, how we wear our faith, has a lot to do with our hospitality to others. When we wear the garments of God’s love, grace and mercy as if they were made for us, we extend that love, grace and mercy to others with authenticity. We may share a belief in the same God with many, but unless we offer God’s love as if it is a part of our being, the world may not see that we are inviting them into relationship with us and with God.

Let’s wear the love of God that all who meet us may feel that they have been welcomed home.

Free Hugs in Sondrio, Italy

Would it surprise Jesus if we gave away hugs so readily? Jesus often used touch to provide healing, offer forgiveness, and demonstrate compassion. In Luke's account of the Prodigal Son, the father does not scold his errant son, does not say: "I told you so." Rather, he runs to him and throws his arms around him.

In this world that has become so faceless, where cyberspace bullying drives young people to turn anger inward on themselves, we would be well-advised to reclaim personal contact. Today, look someone in the eyes, with compassion, and offer them a simple, respectful touch. Hugs are free; their value is priceless.

Good Intentions

                A dear friend and clergy colleague uses the word “intentions” rather than “resolutions”
to name the areas where she wants to better herself at the beginning of the year. Resolution does have a lot of guilt attached to it if we lose our resolve. Intentions are what we hope to do, perhaps will even strive to do. But the word seems to allow us to forgive ourselves when we falter or simply fall flat.

             Just nineteen days into the New Year, and my list of intentions has evaporated into one item: returning to a healthy eating pattern by keeping track of what I eat on the Weight Watchers website. I am doing pretty well, and my occasional overindulgences have not yet led to a complete surrender to old habits.

What has helped the most in keeping up this one “good intention” has been a decision to cut myself some slack. I am, after all, only human, and I will not be perfect.

God understands that we human beings will not be perfect. We will not always treat our neighbor as we would like to be treated. We will not always treat ourselves as God’s beloved children. We will repeat gossip; we will be annoyed with the slow-moving cashier; we will say an unkind word to our significant other or our children; we will not find time to connect with God. We will do all those things, and the God who loves us unconditionally will say: “I forgive you. I love you. You are my beloved and with you I am well pleased.”

And tomorrow, perhaps, we will write another list of intentions. And God will smile and say: “Well done, good and faithful servant. With you I am well-pleased.”

 

Risky Business

"The Problem We All Live With: A painting of Ruby Bridges" by Norman Rockwell depicts the six-year-old going to school at Walter Frantz Public School in New Orleans in 1960. During her first year at school, Ruby was in a class of one, the first African-American child to attend that school under federal-court-ordered desegregation. She went alone because most white parents kept their children out of school that year.

In my town in North Carolina, I would not go to class with black students until I was in the seventh grade, 1968. A long hard fought battle, and sometimes we think that discrimination and segregation is over.

Would it surprise Jesus to know that in many places in the land of the free, while schools have become desegregated, that many churches in America are still closed to others not like us?

We are struggling to accept others - black, white, Asian, Native American, gay, lesbian, transgendered, bisexual. We even struggle to allow our children to worship with us. We make it difficult for those who were the pillars of our churches worship because we are slow to change our accommodations so that they can come into our sanctuaries and manage to sit for an hour.

All the while we celebrate a Jesus who called to himself children, outcasts, the sick, the different. People who did not share his upbringing, his national heritage, his language. Would it surprise Jesus that we still have trouble recognizing our neighbor?

On Sunday, a young parishioner stood in the pulpit to talk about God's extravagant welcome to all persons, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. He is not the brash preacher from outside the community. He has a lot to lose, some may say. Yet he called his family, friends and neighbors to care, and to say out loud all are welcome here.

What may have surprised my friend is that his words did not fall on deaf ears. Rather, a conversation began. One person expressed joy at his words during our time of prayer. The church gathered, following worship, and stayed together to listen, for a moment, to each other's stories.

He took the risk of calling us to care, to love, and we responded, joyfully.

Christmas Sundaes

It’s Christmas morning and my husband and I have just had our Christmas breakfast of ice cream sundaes. That’s right, ice cream sundaes. I don’t know that this would surprise Jesus, though I’m certain it may surprise you as readers.

Years ago, during my first marriage, we had begun a tradition of having a “junk food extravaganza” on Christmas Eve. It has stuck with my daughter and I and has been passed on to my current wonderful husband. He chose to add the sundaes to this year’s festivities.

Of course, while a meal of junk food sounds wonderful, our eyes are almost always bigger than our stomachs. So, we decided to breakfast on sundaes.

Why is it that Christmas is for most of us, pastors included, a day of conspicuous consumption? The Christmas event belies the festival of consumerism we have corrupted it into.

The story begins with scandal. A teenaged girl, betrothed to another man, is pregnant. Her story: she has been overshadowed by the Holy Spirit and conceived a child from God.

Joseph, her betrothed, had every right to present her with a bill of divorce and to have her stoned for adultery. In Matthew’s gospel, Joseph receives a visitation from the angel and is convinced to raise the child as his own.

What is striking to me is God’s choice to enter the world as a child of scandal, a bastard to put it bluntly. Yet it is this very decision that bears witness to the fact that God loves each of us, the very least, the despised, the unloved, the fatherless.

What if we chose today to celebrate the coming of Christ into the world by loving those we have chosen to despise? Wouldn’t that surprise Jesus? Wouldn’t that honor God?

Holy Thursday

On the third Thursday of each month, I go to a small nursing home in the area and celebrate worship with the residents there. It has always been an enlivening experience for me. It is also interesting in that I am a woman ordained in the United Church of Christ, and many of my Thursday "parishioners" are Catholic.

We do not celebrate the Eucharist. That is done for them on Sundays. But I read scripture, offer a brief meditation on the piece, and then we sing.

The joy for me is that the residents seem to look forward to my visit. I usually hang out with them for a bit afterward.

But back to Holy Thursday. As this is a once a month service, I realized I could have brought an Easter message. That would be uplifting and life-affirming. But it seemed to me that we can only come to Easter by first traveling through the Last Supper with his disciples and standing at the foot of the cross.

I read John's account of Jesus's washing the disciples' feet.

And then, I asked permission to wash the hands of the people. Most of the hands were gnarled, and affected by arthritis. But all responded with tenderness to this small thing.

It was a sacred moment. Nearly everyone closed their eyes when I washed their hands in my bowl. And everyone whispered thank you.

One of the women who works there said, "But no one has washed your hands. May I?"

Each of us met Jesus that day. For a brief moment, the Christ in each of us spoke to the heart.

What would surprise Jesus in this? I think for him, there are no surprises. Jesus knew the power of touching. And he calls us to share that with each other.

This Day of Resurrection

It was cold in the Emerson Garden adjacent to the church. A brazier was lit to bring a little warmth to those gathered there.

Regardless of the cold, I was glad to be there, gathered with the church, celebrating the miracle of the empty tomb.

Last Easter was marked by the death of my father. The second family death in about six months. I did not sing "Alleluia" but I did have confidence in the Resurrection.

The day my father was buried, a preacher stood to say that he knew that Fred had accepted Jesus. That was a surprise to me. I don't think he ever made such a confession. Of course, what might surprise those who believe that one must make a confession heard by someone "qualified" to hear such things is that it does not matter whether Fred uttered those words.

What matters is that the living God accepted Fred. That is the good news of the Gospel. We are all accepted by God as beloved children. There is no rote confession, no statement of faith worded just so. We are accepted.

This might surprise some reading this. But it won't surprise Jesus. Jesus was, after all, the one sent into the world, not to condemn the world, but to bring us to God.

Gathering of the Lodge

What would surprise Jesus?
Perhaps Jesus would be surprised and pleased to see that the children of God gather to support those who walk for peace. That is exactly what happened Sunday night. Children who call God by different names, who worship in different places, and with different traditions. Yet all were called as people of one spirit to bless the walk of the Buddhists of the New England Peace Pagoda. Accompanying them for part of the walk is our neighbor Al.
They will walk from Hiroshima to Tokyo. Their purpose is to encourage the Japanese government not to rescind the prophibition against a standing army. As put in their constitution: "The government shall not act belligerently on behalf of the people."
Each of us presented Al with a small stone, a piece of our community for him to leave with the people of Japan. While most came from the neighborhood, Paul and I brought stones we had collected by the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia. The circle of stones is very wide, as is the love of God.
The evening did put me in mind of a book called "Circle of Stones." This book suggests that women might consider gathering at the lodge to honor the right of passage of girls into womanhood. That as we gather at the lodge, and pass the secret knowledge of women, that the young woman feels the love and care and support of the lodge.
So it seems to me, the lodge gathered this night to show Al support and love and care in this journey. Not a lone journey, but a journey of community, for the community. Not the community of Montague alone, but for this blue and green orb that is the home of us all.
This lodge is very inclusive. We were Christian, Buddhist, Jewish, Hindu, male and female. This lodge does not ask that we have been long-time members. Paul and I have only been here a few months. We were received with the same hospitality as those who have been long-time friends.
This was no official body of any church. No committee planned and voted. Rather, the community, the lodge gathered, because it is the responsibility of the lodge to bless and support this venture.
This would surprise Jesus. It certainly surprised and blessed me.

Living in a Winter Wonderland

It's been months since I posted. Why?

I've been acclimating myself to a new environment. Back in October we moved to western Massachusetts where I was called to Leverett Congregational Church. It's been a blessing and joy to live here.

I'll post a picture of my church soon. And try to get back to a less sporadic posting.

Living in this area is like living in a Christmas card. I've not tired of it yet. But we'll see how I'm feeling by the end of February.

Ordination Day

July 15, 2007, the day I was ordained into the partoral ministry of the United Church of Christ. The good-looking galoot by my side is my husband, Paul.

What a journey this was. There were points along the way when I wondered if the day would come.

I am thankful for those that God sent to accompany me along this circuitous path, a number of whom were present at the ordination. Sallye, Doug, Michael, Deb, Joe, Brenda, Jan, Beth, John, Mom, Rob, Liz, Drew, Helen W., Helen S., Ernest, Betty, Jean, Chris, Amy, Tyler...the list goes on. The clergy who laid hands on me were Anglo, African-American, Filipino, married, divorced, straight, gay, UCC, Baptist, Methodist and who knows what all. This was, as several commented, the Church as it is supposed to be. And as the UCC motto states: "That they may all be one." (John 17:21)

I am also thankful for those who accompanied me through the rocky roads leading to this day, and who could not be here: Jackie, Emily, Butch, Steve, Laurie, Richard, Diane, Pat, Julia, Paul M., Laura, Gay, Ed, Rob L., Kris, Carolyn and a host of others.

Some of them know that I have gotten to this day. Others do not, but I know they will rejoice. Thank you for being there, lifting me, supporting me, guiding me.

What Would Sadden Jesus

What would sadden Jesus?

I imagine the refusal by High Point Community Church to keep its commitment to provide a memorial service for Cecil Sinclair, a Navy veteran who happened to be gay.


According to the news story
http://www.freenewmexican.com/news/66436.html the decision was not a matter of hatred or discrimination, but principle. So what is the principle involved here?


Could it be this one:

10While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew's house, many tax collectors and "sinners" came and ate with him and his disciples.

Matthew 9:10

Possibly this principle:

2At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. 3The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group 4and said to Jesus, "Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?" 6They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. 7When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." 8Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.
9At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. 10Jesus straightened up and asked her, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"
11"No one, sir," she said. "Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin."2At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. 3The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group 4and said to Jesus, "Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?" 6They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. 7When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." 8Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.
9At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. 10Jesus straightened up and asked her, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"
11"No one, sir," she said. "Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin."

John 8:2-11

What does it mean for us to be Christ -like?

It is to love, our God, our neighbor, and our enemy.

God's Hands

I don't know if this would surprise Jesus. It might surprise me, but it reminds me of the story of Jesus' baptism. On that day the heavens opened and the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus in the form of a dove. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

Many times in our lives, we live in a veil of clouds, uncertain if the sun will shine again. Through faith we will live to see the clouds lifted, and the shroud of darkness torn back.

The following poem was written today in the writer's workshop called Zoetrope. Those of us who dabble in poetry and wish to play gather around the keyboards at about 1pm eastern time, and respond to a prompt. Today's prompt was to consider what we understand as faith.

Crossing

Crossing the James River Bridge
catching at the periphery
points of light--
beacons lining the shoreline
into tomorrow
destination unknown.

Shivering--
the remnants of fear
clung like a peat-moss
cloak;
praying the waters
would close over
Pharaoh's chariots.

Scanning the landscape
in search of a landmark:
a sign, a fleece
a herald of welcome-
a cold draught of water
for the itinerant.

Amid the neon banners
competing for attention
the warm glow
the humble yellow
peeks through the swath
of red, blue and green--

a refuge of familiarity--
as the tinny juke-box plays
in the Waffle House
and we receive bread
we know without a doubt
we've been led home.

© Grace M. Murray, 2007

Revelation Tag

Carver Adams challenged me to a game of revelation tag .

Here are the rules:
1. The rules must be posted by each participant at the beginning of the post.
2. Each player posts 8 facts about himself/herself.
3. Tagged parties post their own 8 items in a blog, and post these rules.
4. At the end of the blog, each player or 'tagee' must post the names of eight people s/he is tagging in turn.
5. And inform said tagees by e-mail, telegraph wire or telepathy if blessed with such ability, but in any case inform them or they'll have trouble participating.

Fascinating Facts about Gracie
1. After a long, circuitous journey, I was ordained in the United Church of Christ on July 15, 2007. Of course, the journey is not over. Destinations are simply landmarks on the way.

2. I am a published writer. My published works include:
Flash Fiction- Naked at The Writer's Ezine , June 2006
Poetry - Fossilized & Civilized Communication - both at Static Movement, September 2006 Lioness in Miniature at Antithesis Common
and now, in Print! "Spay or Neuter Your Humanoid" in the Drabbler, February 2007.
To date I have earned the vast sum of $16.00 for my work.

3. I discovered a new culture in the North Carolina Orthopaedic Hospital in Gastonia, NC. As a girl I was hospitalized there three times. We were grouped and we related to one another according to our orthopaedic problem. There was crossover, to be sure, but there is that sense of forming clans according to some common denominator.

4. Before I became familiar with the miracle at Pentecost, when the disciples spoke in tongues that all people could understand, I use to wonder if we really all speak different languages, but hear others words in our own.

5. I have learned to pick my battles. But I am acutely aware that some will never know the battles I chose to avoid.

6. Preaching is my passion. My second is writing. Words are powerful. I pray I use them wisely.

7. I have done things I never thought I would be able to do. Lived as a single parent and earned a Master of Divinity during that time. Began an Interfaith Disaster Response that continues though I have moved on. Went whitewater rafting and lived to tell about it.

8. I get up every morning and knowing some of the trials I have been through, I look in the mirror and smile and say to myself and the world: I'm still here!

People I am tagging to play Revelation Tag:
Joe Emerson, Brenda Tagge, Christopher Hicks, Rob Licht, Elizabeth Dill, Sue Thurman, Jake MacKillan, Margot Miller