PennCentralUCC's Xanga

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 23:21:35 GMT

What do you do about all of the negative forces in life----the critical people, the depressing situations we all get into, the bad news, the things you can't get done? I try to pray about them, but I confess I am rather imperfect at it. I expect sometimes God must think my prayers are a bit "whiny." I also expect that God loves me anyway. I think I can understand, however, why the disciples said to Jesus "Teach us to pray."

One of the other things I try to do is remember that life isn't about everything being perfect all the time. I keep expecting things to be perfect---by my standards of course! :) There's a reason that the expression "chill!" became so popular, I expect. In my self-talk, I have to remind myself to chill. Perhaps scripture can be helpful with that. There are really only one or two occassions when Jesus really got mad. Most of the time, even when he was severely provoked, he managed to use humor and patience to diffuse the situation. I'm not Jesus, but I'm not above asking "What would Jesus do?"

I would love to hear what you do about the negatives in life. You no doubt have something to teach me. Please write.

Blessings, Marja

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Sat, 09 Feb 2008 10:30:47 GMT

We are all busy. I hear it all the time. I hear from my colleagues about the impossible things they/we are trying to accomplish. It's all in a good cause. We are God's hands and feet. We are trying to make the church a better place. I've said it myself, many times. And I am guilty of working hours past the time I say I will be home.

But there's a problem with this busi-ness. There are casualties. In my case, among my casualities are reading books and journals just because they interest me; surfing the web and following a trail for the pure joy of learning something new; writing in my journal; and talking, eating, sharing and just hanging out with my spouse and my friends.

Of course I still read. I read something every morning during my quiet time. But often I have to choose between reading a bit longer or making a journal entry. It's only on days like this---a wonderful, snowy, winter Saturday---when I convince myself that I need have no particular agenda, that I remember that I have four or six or twelve magazines that I have been waiting to dip into. And I can finally fish around on the web to try to figure out what this mysterious thing called "podcasts" is. And there's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, and old movies to watch.

We are all busy. We are all working for the church. But perhaps we ought to be praying for more snow days when we can tuck up under an afghan and feed ourselves with those books and articles and thoughts that have been waiting until we had time to give them attention.

So, what are you doing today?

Monday, January 28, 2008

Mon, 28 Jan 2008 08:21:12 GMT

Last night I watched a Hallmark Hall of Fame television movie called The Mitchell Girl. It had been widely advertised and hailed as a strong, moving performance in the grand tradition of Hallmark Hall of Fame presentations. Certainly the acting was strong, but I found myself wanting to shake the main character. She had been diagnosed with an agressive form of luekemia, decided to make the trip home to be with her family and to deal with an incident from her past that continued to haunt. She arrived in her hometown and encountered both family and friends, and chose to tell no one. Her mother is perky, her old boyfriend is still interested in her, she receives word that at long last she has been accepted to medical school and still she chooses to tell no one, take no one into her confidence, let no one into the circle of her misery and fear.

It is only at the end of the movie, of course, that it comes out that she has cancer. It is only at the end of the movie that she divulges this news not to her mother first, but to the woman across the street whose child she had been babysitting on the night there was a terrible accident resulting in that child's death. It makes a great movie, but it makes a terrible life scenario. As a nation, we Americans need to be a little less the "strong, silent" type and a little more willing to open our lives, especially to the people we love and who love us.

Were there things I kept from my parents? Sure, I was a child of "the movement" in the 60s and 70s. I marched on campus. I smoked and drank and stayed out too late. But you'd better believe that if I had been diagnosed with a major life-threatening disease, there's one place I would have made a bee-line for: My parents' house. I believe in the power not only of family but also of community.

That's what the church is lacking in many places today. It needs to be the emotional center where one can go to get loved, supported and challenged in the face of life's crises, large and small. "Come together, people," I wanted to yell at the television last night. "Come together, people," is not a half bad summation of the message that Jesus gave us----love, compassion, healing, forgiveness. Can we take each other seriously enough to trust others with our needs and fears as well as our joys and challenges? Come together. Right now.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Sun, 20 Jan 2008 22:19:54 GMT

Last Tuesday I sat with a group of nearly twenty pastors of local congregations, in a service of word and sacrament, this being the first time I had been with them as a group in a year’s time. The leader of the worship, one of my colleagues in ministry in this Conference, Allen Fluent, invited us to name moments of faith. With little prompting, those gathered in the circle began to quote verses of scripture and hymn texts that meant the most to them, telling stories as they went to describe situations or people who had showed them the deep truths, whether in children’s church school, or in seminary, or in the grief counseling we do before a funeral. I was amazed, not that they knew scripture, of course, but rather to hear the affirmation of how much the scripture meant to them personally, sustained them in their hard times, led them forward. One tends to think that pastors today are, if not jaded, at least a tad cynical about the difficulty of ministry or the prospect for hope and change in this time of division and retrenchment. It is an echo of what I believe people in general are hoping to find in church---the word of hope, the comfort of presence, the healing touch.

Allen also read a poem called something like “The Mystical Weaver” by a 19^th century pastor, by the name of Henry Harbaugh, who served here in Penn Central Conference. Perhaps there is even now a mystical weaver, who sees the pattern, who weaves us into something new when we are not looking. I believe it’s my responsibility to stay open, and to do whatever I can, but in the end, I must also believe that there is a power greater than me who indeed, as the prophet Isaiah says, is “doing a new thing.” Praying is hard when you don’t know what you are praying for. But the one to whom we pray knows. It has to be enough.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 08:15:51 GMT

I've just finished reading Alan Alda's book, Things I Overheard While Talking To Myself. It is mostly a collection of observations from graduation and other speeches he has made over the years. There are some interesting observations, but indeed he really does seem to be talking to himself. I'm also in the middle of reading Anne Lamott's Grace (Eventually), which similarly contains a lot of self-reflection. Though I can't exactly put my finger on it, somehow Lamott seems to be talking more to me. I feel like she cares about who I am and wants to hear my life story too [which of course is ridiculous because she has hundreds of thousands of fans and I will likely never get to meet her.] Writing is a tricky thing. We all want to be unique. We all want to be recognized as the unique individuals we are. And most of us want to know we will be remembered.

A lot of Christmas is about remembering. That's why people send out Christmas cards [though Jim and I sent ours electronically this year after reading that 3 billion cards end up in land fills]. That's why we exchange presents and give Toys for Tots. Just as we want to be remembered, we are also willing to remember others. We recognize that in the midst of our unique individual life circumstances, we need each other.

I remember so clearly when Coke did a commercial in the 70s using the somewhat treaclely song "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing." Why do I and so many others remember so vividly a commercial with questionable artistic or creative value? Because we really do want to teach the world to sing.

People in general are pretty sick of war and violence I think. The only things keeping us from world peace is that there are meglomaniacs who keep people stirred up, keep them believing that they have been cheated out of their share, their uniqueness, their dream. Many people have been cheated out of their dream by the greed of others. But violence won't fix that. Dream-sharing, story-telling, and example are the only things that will indeed teach the world to sing together.

I'm looking forward to visiting with relatives and friends over the next few days. I probably won't write again until after Christmas. So to all of you, I wish a wonderful Merry Christmas, and the dream of peace! Blessings, Marja

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Thu, 13 Dec 2007 12:03:53 GMT

I wrote about community the other day---the feeling of community that comes from hearing each other's stories. Then I had an experience of how powerful community can be. On Monday and Tuesday this week I met with 9 other religious leaders from the state of Pennsylvania, including several Lutherans, several Brethren, a Methodist, a Presbyterian and a Moravian. We gathered in a two day retreat at the Nittany Lion Inn in State College. Several of those gathered were people I knew from working with the Pennsylvania Council of Churches, but only one really feel into the class of "friends." The group facilitator explained that we were going to be doing some deep sharing and spending a lot of time in silence. While I wanted a retreat, I wasn't sure I was ready for that. Where was the trust going to come from? Indeed, as we introduced ourselves and shared our challenges, it was a painfully slowly process. We often sat in silence for many minutes waiting for the next person to be moved to speak.

Remarkably, by the time we gathered the next morning for more deep sharing and reflection, we were really putting ourselves out there. At the end of our time together, I felt like we had indeed become a community. Will I ever call one of these people to go to the movies or to hang out? Unlikely. But I do feel that if I had an issue I was struggling with and needed to talk over with someone outside my denomination, I would now feel a great deal more comfortable calling any one of these people. What an Advent gift. Isn't that what this season is preparing us for---to be one in Christ? Advent blessings to you, my friends near and far. Peace, Marja

Monday, December 10, 2007

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 07:59:04 GMT

Since I started with true confessions last time I wrote, I'll continue to reveal myself today. I love the Styles section of the Sunday New York Times. No, I don't read any of the fashion articles. And I don't care a whit which society person attended which charity event. But I loved the "wedding of the week." I don't know who is responsible for identifying and writing about the featured wedding, but whoever it is always seems to find an unusual couple with an unusual story. Yesterday, it was about a couple who dated as young adults and then got back together after sixty years with other people.

So why is it that I love to read these stories of how people pursued and won each other's affections, sometimes over great obstacles? I suppose in part because I am one of the stories. Jim and I have know each other for 32 years, but we've only been married 16 of them. We were best friends when I was a young minister starting out. He came and found me years later when he was a single man again. He is the great love of my life and I really don't care who knows about it. The New York Times should come and write about us.

I don't know that I have a particularly profound insight to offer in all of this. What started me thinking about it is that I do love community, and sharing one's story---whether on a blog or in the New York Times or over coffee with friends---is how we build community. You can never keep everything perfectly private and still build community around you, because if you try, it will be one-sided, and community is always about circles. I guess if I were preaching, I would say "take a risk" and "open yourself up to somebody." You never know whether you might create a life-long friend, or even a partner.

Advent blessings,

Marja

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Wed, 28 Nov 2007 13:26:27 GMT

It's true confessions time! I had a colonoscopy this morning, and though I was dreading it, it was fine. I hope all of you who are over 50 have one too. But it got me thinking. As much as I was dreading having this, I realize that I am one of the lucky ones who has insurance, paid for by my employer, that will cover the procedure. There are still hundreds of thousands of people, right here in the US, who cannot have this procedure because they cannot afford it. And some of them will die from colon cancer. Around the world, there are millions who cannot afford medical treatment of any kind, and who die needlessly.

We all need to be universal health care advocates. Let's not wait until some sends us an appeal. Let's contact our senators, representatives, and yes our presidential candidates, and let them know that this is a priority for America and for the world.

Blessings to all, Marja

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 09:31:15 GMT

I recently started writing daily in my journal again. In fact, it's become a very important source of stress abatement! In addition, I've also started using the Facebook account I signed up for several months ago and never really checked. Now I'm finding that it's a great way to stay in touch with a lot of our newer clergy, who all seem to be using it. Plus it's just plain fun, which is also good for stress relief! I figured if I have gotten more regular about those two things, it might be time to start blogging on xanga again. I might even try to attach this site to my facebook page.

So, what do you think of technology? Are you having fun with it? If you're using it at church, how is that going? I really recommend Facebook to pastors as a way to keep in touch with your youth group and your college kids. It's amazing how many of them are already there.

There are other technologies as well---MySpace, YouTube, etc--that I've not used extensively yet. But basically, I am appalled that the church seems to be so far behind. At the very least, if you haven't checked out i.ucc you ought to do that. There are blogs, a prayer chapel and bible study available at any hour of the day or night [the prayer chapel, however, is actually "live" at 9P.M. every night]. Let me know if you've encountered other kinds of sites and technologies that you've found helpful. I'll spread the word. Blessings, Marja

Monday, July 09, 2007

Mon, 09 Jul 2007 20:03:50 GMT

Dear Friends, Time flies. I've now been back from Synod for about 10 days and I've had a little time to process some of the images. I think this Synod will always be considered special. People will be talking about 25 and 50 years from now. That's kind of cool. We had more than 200 people from Penn Central Conference there.

What did I like best? The obvious answer would be Barack Obama, but actually I was really engaged by Bill Moyers, Marian Wright Edelman and Lynn Redgrave. The whole delegation was wowed by the music of Ken Medema. Maybe more than anything, I liked the way our folk, both delegates and visitors, looked out for each other, while at the same time making new friends.

We have a lot to chew on. There is a pastoral letter calling us to bring and end to the war in Iraq. There are resolutions [you can find them at www.ucc.org/synod/resolutions] for us to ponder. And there are broader horizons for us to head toward. We can't rest on our laurels. There's too much to do. See you soon.

Blessings, Marja