Grandmother's Peace

       Peace.  It gets talked about a lot in faith circles.  We pray for peace.  We search for peace.  Some people find peace in worship while others still haven't reconciled themselves to the fact that we are asked to exchange a sign of "the peace" of Christ with the people sitting around us, no less.   Great people of faith seem to have a serene peace about them; it is one of the qualities that sets them apart from many of us.  This peace seems to come from a deep faith or acceptance.

       It's a quality a lot of people want as part of their spirituality.  Some people search for inner peace through prayer, meditation, and other spiritual practices.  Most of us have to work at it, but some people just "have it". Their faith just seems to give them a calm base; like weebles, they seem to be able to take the storms of life without falling down.  Counselor-types call it having a "non-anxious presence". 

       I remember my maternal grandmother as having that kind of presence.  Growing up, we spent summers with her.  And in spite of all the kids and our mess and noise, she was always calm.  There was only one time I remember her being upset. 

       My older sister had rescued a newborn kitten that was just a few days old.  It's eyes weren't even opened when she brought it home.  She fed it warmed formula from a doll's bottle and kept it warm.  It was still so small when we came up, that it still needed care and attention.

       A cousin had taken the kitten away and was being mean to it; and we went crying out to Grandma for help.  I don't remember what she said or did, except that she flew out of the kitchen, apron flying and soon returned, having rescued the kitten from the cousin and the cow tank.  She settled down with one of her good kitchen towels (the kind we would get in trouble for using to wipe our hands),gently wiping the kitten.   She sat by the stove, holding the kitten up near her chin and softly singing Norwegian lullabies.  Grandma was in her chair; the world was at peace.

        The peace we share during worship is the gift of peace given in faith by Jesus himself. After the resurrection, he greets the disciples with the words "Peace be with you" every time they meet. It is Jesus' wish, that we have his peace.  

       But there are times in the gospels when Jesus is upset.  Like my Grandmother, it is usually when he is looking out for the "little ones"  and the "least of these"; the ones that need his help and protection.  Our search for peace is never to come at the cost of the call to care for those in need.  

       Christ's peace comes from following his Way, which like the life he led, takes us out into the world to care for others.  

       Reading and studying the bible, daily prayer, yoga, meditation, deep breathing, all our spiritual practices will all fall short of peace unless we also reach out to others.  God's peace is not self-contained; it is communal.

       Living Christ's peace is something I know that I have to practice.  

       As a musician, the word practice has special meaning.  Learning an instrument, getting a degree in music means hours of practice locking away in a small room working hard and also working hard in groups large and small until the notes on the page make the music contained in them.

       Our spiritual practice takes the same dedication; time alone and time together in groups large and small.  We come together to pray and praise, to give God what is due God, and in return, we are filled and strengthened to continue.  Putting away our fears and anxiety doesn't mean running away from the world, but rather taking Christ with us into our everyday lives and giving him all the things we cannot control and do not know.  Read Matthew 6:33-34

Butterflies and Wall Street

       Just the other day, I came out of the church into swirl of fallen leaves being blown by the wind in the sunshine.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one up near my shoulder.  I was going to ignore it and go when I stopped and thought, "how did this one leaf get up by my shoulder?"  Before I could finish that thought, the blacks and golds fluttered by my face.  It was a Monarch butterfly.
       It was beautiful.  I stood absolutely still and watched it in wonder until it flew off.  I reflected later that this experience was all the more special because of how rare it has been this year.  I haven't seen many Monarchs.
       In chaos theory, the butterfly effect describes how a tiny change in one place in the system can effect great changes overall.  This year perhaps especially, the Monarch butterfly is an example of that effect.
       Monarchs have been endangered for years now by the use of pesticides, the change in farming practices where fields are even larger and hedges and brush along fence lines are disappearing, and along with those practices, milk weed pod, the weed that the butterflies depend on for food are disappearing.  This year, these delicate beauties are also being hit hard by the severe drought on the southern Great Plains.  To survive, Monarchs must migrate south to Mexico beginning in August.  Like all migrating species, they need food and water along the way to survive the rigorous trip.  Some scientists are worried that conditions this year may be the tipping point for the species.
       In New York City and in cities around the country, people are protesting.  It's called Occupy Wall Street.  The media has been having a hard time covering it because they can't find a concise reason or meaning.  One common sign reads, 'We are the 99'; meaning the ninety-nine percent that are not extremely wealthy.  They are protesting everything from the banks and those that were bailed out and are now making record profits while "regular" people have lost homes, jobs, and taken losses in their retirement funds and abilities.
       These two phenomena intersect at a very central biblical concept: stewardship.  Now this is not "stewardship lite" in the way that contemporary church talk has reduced stewardship to a once-yearly focus on how much money you need to give to "the church" or "to God".  The central biblical concept of stewardship is about how humans are to relate with each other and to the whole of creation that God has put into our hands.  The core of that concept is care for the poor, the weak, and nature itself.
       According to the Old Testament, the Monarch would have habitat and the poor would have food; "you shall not reap to the very edges of your fields... you shall not strip your vineyard bare... you shall leave them for the poor" (Leviticus 19:9-10).  There is also the concept of the year of Jubilee when liberty is proclaimed for all people and for the land.  At its base is an understanding that the land belongs not to people but to God and therefore, we cannot claim ownership in perpetuity nor are people to be dealt with unfairly or a few to retain dominion over others.
       The biblical concept of stewardship calls us to mindfulness that we are the caretakers not the owners and that God's wish is for mercy and to look after all people. It is in this faith question that the life of the butterflies and the protestors can meet.  What does God have to say about corporate greed, about a time when the richer get wildly richer and more and more people fall into poverty, and about the devastation of rain forests, butterflies, and the polar ice caps?
       The biblical concept of stewardship does impact monetary issues, but only because it seeks to impact everything from energy-saving lightbulbs, to recycling, to our menus, and whom we invite to the table to eat of the harvested bounty.  It's not a question of what do we do with "our" stuff but of recognizing and then living the truth that all of this and us included, belong to God.  Read Isaiah 58:6-9

The Love that Tells the Story

     

       A couple of weeks ago, I was at a meeting on one of the lakes in the region. It was a blustery day with clouds rolling through, the sun peeking through less and less as the morning went on and the wind was rising. The lake was getting choppier and by noon, the wind was whipping up white caps on the waves. There was a point where it looked as if rain was coming across the lake but it never came.

        I took time during our break to walk outside on the deck overlooking the shoreline.  As I walked along, I noticed a group of ducks floating near the shore.  The five or six young ducks were almost the size of the mother but they still puddled together in the water staying close.  All the same, in spite of the choppy waves, they just floated closely together as family group bobbing up and down as the waves came to shore. 

        I stood and watched them, amazed.  They didn't seem ruffled at all by the wind and the waves; just at ease to  float where ever it took them. There was no squawking or trying to change positions to get to the inside of the circle and not one of them tried to leave and get out of the water.  They were content to be together in spite of the rough water and chilly wind and water.

        Now I don't know what those ducks are capable of thinking or feeling and I don't want to put human words or feelings into their mouths.  But I have been thinking about them since.  I think they can be a parable for us in these rough times as a church and world-wide economically.

        There are many people who react to these rough waters with a lot of anxiety; as the anxiety rises, it is a normal reaction to want to find a way out, to find shelter.  Other people seem to take it as a personal affront.  They feel that their rights to the good life are being stepped on and so they tend to squawk loudly but the justice they seek is their own and not on behalf of others.  Then there are the people who are into "trauma-drama" - a term I invented when teaching  young students music lessons.

        These trauma-drama students would make faces, stop playing and even exclaim out loud at every wrong note or even imagined mishap.  Often, these students believed that their job was to play perfectly all the time and that the goal of playing their instrument was to never make a mistake.  They were often surprised and disagreed at first when I told them that even the world's best musicians make mistakes in their performances.  The goal is not to play perfectly but to make music, to play with passion and sensitivity.  The performances that move me to tears and are amazing are those that make clear the performers passion and love for the music.  When that happens, the music transcends the ages or performance levels and touches the heart.  I have had that happen when listening to some of the world's greatest performers and also the local high school or middle school band or choir.  Trauma-drama only calls attention to mistakes and stops the music, multiplying and magnifying all the problems.

        It is a much more important lesson for us in the church.  Our calling is not to worry about making perfect decisions or being perfect Christians.  On some level we all know it, but all too often we live as if that is indeed our goal as people of faith.  Instead, we need to focus on the passion, the love of each other and the gospel which is the music, the message that we project to the people around us. Even if we could attain a veneer of perfection, instead of being a beacon of good news, it can act as a barrier to those who most need to hear it. 

        Jesus knew it best (of course).  Love speaks the loudest.  It is the music that sings to hearts that are storm-tossed, weary, and buffeted about.  God's love is strong enough even in the roughest times. 

       The tendency for some to have trauma-drama is just disruptive and distracting and keeps the message from being heard.  Our fear of making mistakes often keeps us from acting at all or makes it all to easy for some to decide to leave the witness of the church to the "professionals".  Our witness to the world is the love we show.

       God gave the gift of the Son.  Jesus has done the work of saving us.  The Holy Spirit gives us the gift of faith and makes us holy.  All we have to do is float together in the waters of baptism, drawing strength and love from each other.  Read John 15: 23-27