I love to tell the story.  When I tell a story, often those listening think of a story of their own to tell.  Jesus knew this.  He told stories as a way of opening conversation, of giving people a new perspective, and to make people smile.  In the early church, the apostles told stories about seeing the resurrected Christ, studying the scriptures with him, eating with him, loving him.  They were not proselytizing about an idea, but sharing their experience of love with Christ.

Today’s world is so polarized, especially in the areas of politics and religion.  It is hard to find people willing to listen to those with whom they disagree.  When we hear a politician who drives us crazy, we simply hit the mute button.  When we witness a church excluding people, we express outrage as we stomp away.  Most of us spend more time articulating our thoughtful and righteous opinions than we do listening to those with whom we disagree.

The world is in desperate need of people who can listen to and love those with whom they vehemently disagree.  It’s an impossible practice without paying steady attention to our prayer life.  It is God who gives me both the grace and the protection to share coffee and conversation with a Christian friend who believes that homosexuality is a sin.  During such a conversation, we both surrender our judgement, and we listen to stories and seek the presence of Christ.

The next time you come across someone with whom you disagree, in the area of religion or politics, ask them to tell you more, and really listen to their perspective.  Then share your own story: gently, humbly, meekly, generously.  You would be amazed at the amount of common ground in the abyss between those liberal and conservative poles.  And if we can begin to perceive common ground, there may be more space for peace and diversity.

Rev. Cindy Maybeck

I’ve been worrying about our world this week.  The violence, the fear and the hatred grate against the softness of God’s love in my heart.  I wonder what Christian practices we might employ to make a difference in the world.

Henri Nouwen wrote this:  Hospitality means primarily the creation of free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy. Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place. It is not to bring men and women over to our side, but to offer freedom not disturbed by dividing lines.

There are so many reasons NOT to welcome people in.  The spare bedroom is full of boxes of papers in need of sorting and filing.  The schedule does not permit a free evening, and when it does, we don’t have time to clean the house.  We don’t know how to welcome someone because, well… we’ve not recently been welcomed as the stranger in town.  We are almost too comfortable in our own homes and in our own lives.

In La Romana in the Dominican Republic, I was hot and tired after a long day of construction work.  We stopped in a village on the way back to the church and I walked down a solitary dusty path.  A woman sitting outside a shack she called home, offered me a seat on a rickety old chair as she perched on the dirt floor.  Language barriers divided us except for smiles and nods and gestures.  She, who had so little, gave me the best seat in her house so I might rest a moment.  Receiving this simple gracious act of justice and love, I was inspired to become more hospitable in my community.

The practice of hospitality represents a simple but radical act of justice.  Find a way to offer hospitality this week.  Welcome an exchange student into your home.  Buy coffee for a colleague whose political views differ from yours.  Look for opportunities to befriend people from other cultures or religions and encourage your children and grandchildren to extend hospitality in your home to their friends.  These simple acts can change the world by adding welcoming love.

Rev. Cindy Maybeck

Black lives matter.  For me, this phrase indicates that there is a history of racism in our nation which results in violence against black men.  There is a systemic connection from historical violence (against slaves centuries ago, as well as the lynching of African-Americans after abolition of slavery) to contemporary violence, the death of black men at the hands of law enforcement.

Philando Castile did everything right on July 6 when stopped by police for a broken taillight.  He informed the officer that he was carrying a weapon, he and his girlfriend spoke in calm low tones, he slowly reached for his driver’s license.  Still, he was shot and killed as his girlfriend and her little daughter watched.

Many white people cannot see the systemic racism and its effects on people of color.  They claim the media is creating this problem.  They turn their focus to the tragic shooting of police in Dallas who were protecting Black Lives Matter protestors.  They insist white people also suffer violence.

Black lives matter.

Jesus Christ demonstrated remarkable vision and compassion.  He not only saw the bent-over woman, he understood the systemic oppression of the religious institution of his day. (Luke 13:10-17) Jesus saw the goodness in Samaritans who were despised by his friends and colleagues.  (Luke 10:30-37) Jesus engaged in conversation and socialized with prostitutes and tax collectors who would have been invisible to his fellow teachers and clergy (Luke 15:1-2).

I am a white person.  I want white people to stop killing black people.  I want police to stop engaging in systemic racist violence against men of color.  I don’t know what to do to make this world change.  So I pray.  I thank God for calling me to serve you, a church with a Black Lives Matter sign prominently displayed out front.  I talk to white folks about ending racism.  I read The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander.  I listen to people of color to hear their experiences of institutional racism.

My heart breaks with pain at the death of Philando Castile.  But a broken heart is the place where Christ heals and transforms with mercy and justice.  May it be so with my heart and yours.

Rev. Cindy Maybeck

We are not human beings on a spiritual journey, but rather spiritual beings on a human journey.  So said Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.  Thus, the spiritual life is a matter of perspective, is it not?

I believe that the heart of Christianity requires time spent cultivating the contemplative life. Fear not, this is not only a task for introverts! There are as many ways to pray as there are people in the pews. What practice draws your attention to the divine?  Centering prayer, silent meditation or journaling? A solitary walk in the woods, a conversation with God or yoga stretches? Time spent serving a meal, building a Habitat for Humanity house or building a friendship across cultural boundaries?  I could go on and on and on.

I learn scripture by heart as a spiritual practice – there’s a quirky idea! I also journal and sit quietly with God every day. I pray with my dearest friends. (out loud – try it!) I pray for those in need. I ask God to show me how God sees a situation that bothered me when reading the newspaper. Over the years I have found that Jesus remains constantly present in my spirit to guide and teach and heal.

The spiritual life grows silently and invisibly in our hearts and souls. There is a deepening of compassion and a widening of wisdom. We find ourselves more at home with God and sometimes less at home in the world. The frenetic pace and compulsive buying of our culture leaves us empty. We long for worship or Bible study, choir rehearsal or Sunday fellowship. Because here in the church, we find a community of spiritual beings led by Christ. What a blessing, because we are not human beings on a spiritual journey, but rather spiritual beings on a human journey.

Rev. Cindy Maybeck
Summer Sabbatical Interim Pastor

I stood at the top of Virginia Peak in the Sierra Mountains having hiked the 15,000-foot peak.  Breathless with the view beneath me, I imagined this might be God’s perspective.  I trembled at the power, awe, and magnificent beauty of God, evident in the panorama God had created.  God is author, painter, sculptor, set dresser, scenic designer, choreographer of this remarkable planet and all that lives upon it.

Never before in history has humanity lived so separately from nature, the creation of God.  Our dependence on gadgets and light switches, video virtual reality and indoor plumbing… Our shopping for groceries wrapped in plastic purchased far from the farm on which it grew… Our heated winter homes and air conditioned summer places… all this divides us from creation.

Summer in New England is a rich time to give thanks to God for our earth.  Wherever you travel, take time for prayer.  Perhaps you will walk on a beach, climb a mountain, or wander through a meadow.  Maybe you will swim in a lake, walk through the woods, sit on the deck and listen to birds.  Turn off the electronics, the cell phone, and the computer when you are outdoors.  Breathe the sweet air.  Feel the ground under your feet.  Hear the sounds around you.  Admire the color of a flower.

Beauty heals the soul.  Time outdoors in creation renews our strength.  The presence of God in the beauty of nature comforts the grieving heart.  Time in God’s creation slows down to the pace of a gentle heartbeat.  Stop.  Be in awe.  Give thanks.  That is the shape of summer prayer.  This Sunday’s scripture is Psalm 8.  Come to worship ready to fall in love with God who created this beautiful world and then placed it into our hands to care and protect.

Rev. Cindy Maybeck

The sun was shining, the birds singing with a light breeze wafting through the outdoor sanctuary called the Welcome Garden on my first Sunday as your summer sabbatical interim pastor.  We sang, we prayed, we shared a true and bold story, we broke bread and Jesus Christ was present.  Not often do I say this about worship, but it was perfect weather!

Later on Sunday afternoon, we gathered in the Welcome Garden again with Sunday Fellowship.  Festivities included singing, bowling, golf-ball-into-milk-crate tossing, and even hula hoop dancing.  People of all different abilities gathered in friendship, recreation and prayer.  Sweet watermelon juice dripped from every chin as we giggled while seated at tables under shade trees behind the church for our outdoor picnic.

May I lift up before you the miracle of church?  We might get too busy to notice.  Or it might become so comfortable that we take it for granted.  In this one Sunday, I witnessed joyful laughter, frustrated muttering, (It’s hard to share a birthday song, I was told.) healing tears, righteous anger (about injustice), and faithful hope.  But most of all, I witnessed Christian service.  I love how you serve and volunteer and share and help.  I love how you are willing to try something new and welcome everyone who enters your garden sanctuary.  I love how you pay attention to the pain of another and reach out to help and to listen.  Thank you for being church.  Thank you for welcoming me as your interim pastor for this brief summer season.  Such faith and hope outweigh all the fear and hatred in our world.  This I know is true: love wins.

Rev. Cindy Maybeck

This prayer, shared in worship June 19, was written by Rev. John Edgerton, Old South Church in Boston and first appeared on the Old South Church in Boston Facebook page.

God of music and light, of strobe and disco ball,

God of the pipe organ and the 303 bass machine,

God of Latin chant and Latin rhythm,

God who smiles over night club dance floors,

we remember how you were hated for the wide stretch of your love.

We remember how the hate of the small minded cost you your life.

God, since you know how it feels to be hated simply for being your own fabulous self, please draw close to the people of Orlando.

Please be sheltering, shimmering wings upon every blessed person touched by this tragedy.

Be a mighty fortress, built of pride and courage.

Bless every person who goes out dancing tonight in defiance of hatred.

May every hip, every eyelash, every sequin burn like a star in defiance of hate.

What does it take to be bold, to be courageous?  I mean as a Christian to boldly live out our faith in Jesus Christ who teaches us to respond to hate with love?  I’ve been pondering this question the past few weeks, and I find the shooting in Orlando has rendered me speechless.

The hate crime hit me hard.  Gay bars were our place of refuge in the days when I was closeted.  Some of those murdered were not out to their families… until now, after their terrible deaths.  The grief and outrage I experience this week has layers of depths, and spans a history of the gay liberation movement all the way to today, when I am proudly and openly and legally married to my wife.  Yet the shock of violence reminds me of the fragility of justice against the power of fear and hatred.

So back to my question to you, dear church.  What does it take to be bold, to be courageous, as Paul was in the early church?  (Acts 28:31)

True Christian power does not look like worldly power.  We are not armed with weapons.  We are not full of rage and hate.  We do not fear anything… except maybe in that holy fear of God (think of fear as “awe” here).  The source of this Christian power is Christ, whom we know in prayer and in love.  He teaches us to love our enemies.

Honestly, I’m tired this week of loving my enemies.  I’m tired of loving the loud voices on the media.  I’m tired of being aware and awake to my own wounded-ness as a broken soul, along with others in the LGBTQ community.

So I pray.  Deep in the night when most of the world is sleeping.  Those holy three hours after last call and before the dead were removed.  In those wee hours I pray.  And there is Jesus.  And truly there is nowhere I would rather be, than in his loving embrace.  So I weep and he comforts me.  And I crawl back into bed and rise the next day ready to love my enemies, to pray for those who persecute me, to live boldly as the woman-loving-woman God created me to be.  Every day, I will choose love over fear.   Even on days when that is hard.

Please join me in seeking a bold response of gentle love in the face of fear and hatred.  Come to our interfaith candlelight vigil on the common at 6 p.m. on Saturday.  Introduce yourself to me, because I have not yet learned all your names.  On Sunday morning, come to worship outdoors in our garden to break bread together and to hear stories of being bold, of being courageous, and of following Jesus no matter what.  It is a good life, this Christian life to which we are called.  It is not without suffering, I know.  But God’s love is so big and precious and healing…  You will be comforted.  You are loved.  You are a precious light to all the world.  And together we are church, a community empowered   by the Holy Spirit.

Thank you for welcoming me to serve you during this sabbatical season.  Thank you for being the church.  Your bold witness of love and justice gives hope to all the world.

Rev. Cindy Maybeck

WCUC member Polly Jenkins Man is one of the writers for the Concord Journal’s Voices of Faith column. Here is her most recent column.

The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world, and all who live in it; for he has founded it on the seas, and established it on the rivers.  – Psalm 24

When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.  -John Muir

When I was in seminary, confident of my new theological wisdom, I realized it was high time to ask my father something we had never discussed before: what he believed about God. We happened to be on a trail in the Adirondack Mountains at the time, standing next to a rock pool above a waterfall. Dad didn’t answer; instead he beckoned me closer to the pool. “Look in there, Pol,” he said. “You want to know what I believe about God? Everything that anyone needs to know is right here.” So I looked, and saw small wiggling things, bits of green and brown matter, microcosmic creatures with legs, ripples caused by constant motion, all caught in the sparkle of sunlight. I remembered this long ago conversation when I read part of Pope Francis’ June Encyclical Laudato Si, On Care for Our Common Home. These are his words:

Our insistence that each human being is an image of God should not make us overlook the fact that each creature has its own purpose. None is superfluous. The entire material universe speaks of God’s love, his boundless affection for us. Soil, water, mountains, everything is, as it were, a caress of God. (Ch. 2, IV. 84) God has written a precious book, the Pope writes, quoting Pope John Paul II, “whose letters are the multitude of created things present in the universe.”

Last month I stood on the Washington Mall, “America’s Front Yard,” when the Pope was speaking to Congress. I had joined the organization Mobile Action on Climate to watch and listen to his words on two jumbotrons. I am a veteran of events like this, in Washington, Boston and New York; attending rallies, complete with singing, speeches and marching for just causes. Never, though, did I dream that a speech by a Pope to a bunch of Protestants, Jews, Muslims, agnostics, atheists and who knows what else, would attract a crowd like those had. We were like a bunch of groupies at a rock concert. Afterwards, when Pope Francis appeared on the Capitol balcony and acknowledged the crowd, the cries of “Il Papa” were thunderous, hands clapping and waving wildly. You’d have thought the Beatles had come back to town! As my friend, Rabbi Shoshana said, “As a Jew I never thought I would say how much I love and respect the head of the Catholic church.”

Pope Francis, in his encyclical and by his presence and popularity across the globe, is rallying all people of faith to act to prevent the damage to our God-given earth from getting any worse than it is. In the Pope’s address to the United Nations following his visit to Washington, he spoke about the urgency for all nations who will meet in France at the end of the year for the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate to sign a new international agreement on the climate. This will be a significant; no, a critical moment for the nations to come together and commit themselves to preservation of the world as we know it. It’s also an opportunity for everyone to have a voice in this effort. To that end, I invite all who read this to raise yours by going to the website www.parispledge.com where you may add your name to the list of thousands who urge the delegates in to Paris sign an agreement which, if accomplished, will halt global warming. We are all in this together.

Acting now to save our planet is imperative for future generations to have a safe, clean world; it is crucial so that inhabitants of the poorest nations will have a home; it is our obligation to all life forms, in the grasslands and the watersheds and the great northern forests; to the great blue whale swimming deep in the ocean and to the smallest water bug in a mountain rock pool.