We have now officially begun the Christian season of Lent. I know this not just because we gathered after our Shrove Tuesday pancake supper for the imposition of ashes, but also because when I was in a Taco Bell the other day there was a special meat-less menu displayed to help people follow their Lenten discipline.

Are you forgoing meat this year for Lent? What about getting rid of all the fat you have (not on your body, but in your kitchen for cooking purposes like the need to fry up some homemade doughnuts when the mood strikes you)? Fat Tuesday or Shrove Tuesday or Mardi Gras or Fasnacht (as we knew it down in Pennsylvania Dutch country) has long been a time of both having one last hurrah and also a time when the pantry was emptied of lard, sugar, fat, and butter to prepare for fasting from those items. Today, these old practices are very rare.

You may not be giving up meat or lard as a way to deepen your spiritual life this Lent. That is fine. There are many other things you can do to help reorient your life back to a focus on God. During this season as we prepare ourselves to walk with Jesus through the events of Holy Week, with a journey to the cross and then the empty tomb, we can stretch ourselves by adding practices which teach us to pause and explore what God is guiding us to do or to understand in our lives. Some excellent examples can be found on the United Church of Christ website at http://www.ucc.org/feed-yourspirit/. These include the ancient practices of keeping set hours of prayer, like mini-worship services throughout the day, praying with the Bible, and using a prayer connected to the rhythm of your breathing known as the Jesus Prayer.

If you are looking for a simpler approach than adopting a whole new spiritual practice, then how about following a Lenten calendar that offers one idea for each day like “Make time today for the one you love and for God. Each minute is a brick in your life’s bridge, not o nly over troubled waters and loss, but to a million cherished memories,” or “Write down ten things you are thankful for. And then write down ten things more.” There is a free calendar here http://secure3.convio.net/ucc/TPP/2012LENTCalendarFINAL.pdf  that is full of modern and creative activities like these for each day of Lent.

Another excellent way to take time to reflect and meditate each day is to use a daily devotional. There are many excellent examples like the These Days bi-monthly publication or the online resource from the Upper Room found here http://devotional.upperroom.org/. One that I have mentioned several times in worship and have found to be creative and challenging is the Still Speaking devotional published by a writer’s group within the UCC.  You can sign up for it here: http://www.ucc.org/feed-your-spirit/daily-devotional/. Then you will receive a daily email delivered to you every day of the year keyed to the events of the church calendar.

Perhaps none of these will appeal to you. Maybe your path to a productive time of Lenten devotion lies down another path like once again saying goodbye to beloved chocolate (just in time for Girl Scout cookie deliveries). Or maybe you have your own idea of something you can change in your life to renew a sense of connection with God. It doesn’t have to be arduous or austere. Something simple can mean a lot. Even something as basic as renewing the practice of pausing to pray out loud at supper time to give thanks for the meal you are about to receive can bring you one step closer to a feeling of God’s presence in your life.

The most important thing is that you do something. Give something up or take something new on. Whatever speaks to you as a way of making room for God in your life, then that is the path you should explore. I hope that whatever you choose, you have a meaningful Lenten journey.

Peace,

Pastor Brian

I wish life came with a rewind button. Am I alone in feeling this way? There are too many moments in my life when I find myself standing there wondering how anything besides an actual do-over could possibly fix the mess I have made. I had one of those times this past Sunday in church. My sermon for Epiphany centered around the idea that there are gifts we should be giving all year long, not just at Christmas time. In the interest of humor, I started things off with some levity about the differences between those who like to wrap gifts and those who don’t.  At one point I described someone who takes the time to wrap not only the gifts but also the batteries that go along with gifts. I said that if they could they would probably try to wrap each individual volt of each battery and that this seemed to come close to being a symptom of mental illness.

It got a laugh. That’s really all I wanted to do before moving on to a hopefully meatier discussion about the wise men’s gifts and the kinds of gifts we can give throughout the year in celebrating Christ with us. But getting a laugh was not all that I did with that quip. I didn’t hear myself doing it. I didn’t think through what kind of message I was really sharing. By making light of mental illness and including it as the punch line of a joke, I contributed to a real problem. Folks who struggle with any of the many varieties of this disease already face a very hard time in this world. Unlike so many other medical conditions, there is a great deal of stigma associated with mental illness. People often don’t understand mental illness, don’t comprehend that like other diseases and conditions it is not something that is just a matter of choosing to act or think or feel a certain way, and they can be fearful of those who struggle with it.

The stigma and misunderstanding about mental illness makes it very hard for individuals to share openly with others about what they have to deal with in an ordinary day. Folks who have loved ones who are working with their mental illness may feel that it is easier or better not to let others know about it. Many people find it uncomfortable to share that they utilize even basic therapy as a part of their efforts to improve themselves or to attend to their own wholeness. The idea of being able to openly talk about receiving more in-depth care or medicinal aid to strive for mental health can be frightening and can leave someone feeling very vulnerable. 

And what doesn’t help is a minister, or really anyone, making light of mental illness. If I had a rewind button I would be mashing it pretty hard right now. It is a moment I very much regret.   But I don’t have a rewind button. So all I or anyone can do is to ask what can I do going forward? In my case, I can apologize for the hurt I may have caused. I can also use this as one of the multiple moments in my life where I learn a lesson and try to do better in the future. In my case I can do a much better job of thinking about the message I send about the serious nature of mental illness and about my respect for all those who are affected by it. I can ask myself how I can serve as an advocate rather than a propagator of the all-too-common hurtful messages that are already out there in abundance. More than anything else I can be more aware, which is something I strive to do whenever I discover that my participation in things would not be what Jesus would have done. 

That was just one moment that begs for a rewind but instead must serve as a springboard to a better me. As we enter this new year together, perhaps this is a good time to take a moment for introspection and ask yourself if there are any recent times you wish you could rewind and erase? If there are (and I am betting there must be), then I encourage you to ask yourself, since I can’t rewind and erase that moment, what can I do to become a better person as a result of the experience. How can I avoid wishing I had the rewind button in the future

Peace,

Pastor Brian

The pre-Halloween storm we experienced this year – creatively called Snowtober and Arborgeddon – really took a toll on our community and our families. We found our sense of priorities quickly changed. We also saw our understanding of who the “haves” and the “have nots” were switch over to the folks with generators and those with generator envy. Families were either spirited away for unplanned visits to family or impromptu vacations (and I use that word very loosely), or they set up camp in houses where very often the basic essentials of heat, electricity, and water were lacking. As the days went by (and the frozen foods spoiled), nerves were frayed, and frustration was abundant. But there were some positive things as well. Neighbors came out of their cold dark houses and banded together to clear streets and driveways. Folks who did have generators hosted roaming bands of young people or families who moved in to share the wealth. Residents reconnected with others from town who joined them at the shelter for warmth or a shower.

Within our church community, members called and drove over to check in on some of our most vulnerable folks. I heard from some within the church that had power restored or were running on generators. They reached out to invite others to come for showers, laundry or cooking. People pulled together and did their best to look after each other, even while they had their own hardships. I was so proud of the ways that our church became the living body of Christ to one another and to our neighbors. Our values shined through in the personal actions and outreach that so many of you pursued. The ministry you offered one another was meaningful and heartfelt.

One of my fondest memories from this whole time was coming together, in the middle of the outage for Sunday worship in our unheated church. We decided that if our congregational forebears had done it, we could certainly tough it out and have worship without lights or heat. When we arrived on Sunday morning to a building that was hovering in the 40’s our pilgrim spirit took a bit of a hit. Then Dave Whitney and David Woodworth took off and quickly grabbed some firewood for the Fireside Room fireplace. What resulted was a snug but extremely meaningful worship time, with all of us gathered in front of the fireplace. We shared how we were doing, remembered the saints who have come before us (many of whom routinely roughed it through far worse than our post-Albert week and a half), and shared communion by serving one another. The spirit of God was truly there in our midst.

We are returning back to our “normal” lives now.  We have power and all the gadgets and activities that come with it. We are slogging through two weeks of backlogged tasks at our workplaces and dragging branches down to the roads to turn neighborhoods into primitive forts with brush walls. When they meet for youth groups, committee meetings, coffee hours and book groups, folks are sharing stories about what they went through during November. It would be tempting to leave Albert and all of those experiences behind as quickly as we can to get back to life as it used to be, but I want to encourage you to resist pushing all of it to the back of your mind. Having been through a time where we were without so many normal things in our lives, one of the best lessons we could take from this month is a true appreciation of what really matters to us. We can ask ourselves what in our lives has true meaning and value. When we strip everything away, what makes a difference for us and for others in times when we are most in need?

In recent weeks we spent some time in our worship focusing on our church and its worth in our lives through Lori Shield’s excellent sermon and a highlighting of our Outreach efforts with a speaker from Interval House. I hope that as you consider your pledges to the continued ministry of our congregation and our life together here at West Avon, you will join me in deciding that this is one of those parts of our lives that have value and meaning. I hope you will see that being a part of the West Avon community makes a difference to you and to our neighbors. I hope you will continue your generous gift of support not even though we live in difficult times like the aftermath of Winter Storm Albert and the ongoing economic struggles, but because of the lessons we learned about what truly matters during difficult times like these.

Peace,

Pastor Brian

Mark Sanborn is a well-known writer and motivational speaker. In one of his books,You Don’t Need a Title to Be a Leader, he tells about a friend of his, now deceased, who was well-known in business circles. His name was Charlie “Tremendous” Jones. Charlie “Tremendous” Jones died in October of 2009 and there was quite a remarkable “Homecoming Celebration” held on his behalf.

Charlie Jones had a “tremendous” attitude about life. Mark Sanborn called Charlie “Tremendous” Jones one of the most philanthropic people he knew. Throughout his life, Sanborn says, Charlie Jones gave lavishly of his time and money. So Mark Sanborn was surprised when Charlie Jones announced to him and his other friends, “I’ve given up on giving.” Says Sanborn, “There had to be more to the story, we knew.” What would cause such a generous person to give up on giving?

Charlie “Tremendous” Jones explained why he had given up on giving like this: “Everything I have, my life, my potential, my time was given to me. I’ve decided to spend the rest of my life returning.”

Charlie was giving up on giving because he realized he hadn’t been truly giving in the first place. How can you give what you do not own? He realized that he wasn’t really GIVING to God. He was RETURNING to God what was God’s already.

This understanding is one of those fundamental “I get it” ideas that distinguish folks who cringe when they hear the word stewardship brought up from those whose ears perk up when they hear it. I am going to hazard a guess that the first group is much larger than the second.

If you hear “stewardship” and you think “how much do I need to give so I can say I have given something, ” or “how much should we pledge this year so we don’t feel too guilty about it,” then you surely fall firmly in that first group of folks. If that’s what thinking about giving and stewardship feels like, then it can’t be a very positive experience.

On the other hand, if you “get it” like Charlie “Tremendous” Jones, then you understand that being reminded that we didn’t create or make anything on our own is not a bad thing. Grasping that everything we have - every dollar, every great idea, and even every minute of our life on this earth – all of it is something that comes at least in part or indirectly from God. Realizing this key fact begins to move us away from reacting to talk about how we practice stewardship as if we are having a conversation about a tax or an unpleasant duty. Instead, this simple yet tremendous understanding changes our reaction to the invitation to be more giving and generous. When we get the big picture, we start to see stewardship for what it really should be – a chance to pass on, with a spirit of gratitude, some small part of the gifts we have been given. We get to say thank you to God by returning some blessings to this world.

In this month of November, when our country joins together in a shared time of returning thanks to God, please join with me in giving thought to how we as good stewards might seek to do an even better job of returning a measure of God’s blessings that have been given to us.

Peace,

Pastor Brian