Dear Friends in Christ,
As we begin our Lenten journey together, I thought I’d share with you my first monthly column for the Newburyport Daily News about “Grief and Comeback.”  Lent is a time to deepen our relationship with Jesus,  who is our friend, teacher, healer, and partner. Lent requires a willingness to take the risk of knowing Jesus by heart – and then weeping at his death.  I am delighted that we can take this journey through Lent together – and then “comeback” with joy on Easter Sunday.
Blessings,
Laura

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:4

About a week ago, a massage therapist and friend of mine, called me with a suggestion: “Why don’t you write a regular column for the Daily News about grief. So many people in this community are struggling with some kind of loss, and they don’t know what to do with their feelings. As a grief counselor, you could offer some comfort through a regular article in the paper.”

Curiously, I was listening to National Public Radio at the time. Tom Ashbrook, the host of “On Point,” who recently lost his wife, had just returned to work after a period of grieving. His program was titled “Grief and Comeback.” He said, “One thing we know about life that is terrible and true: it ends. We don’t get a choice about that. And sooner or later, that end comes to people that we love. And then, we grieve. In the past two months, that’s been my path. A much-loved partner, lost. And plenty of grief. But for all the personal pain of it, grieving is an utterly universal experience. It comes to us all, essentially, at some point, over a parent, a lover, a friend, a child. It is one of the most human experiences. We are looking for some wisdom in this hour on how to make it through. And live again.”

What I hope to do with this regular column in the Daily News, is to share stories and offer some comfort and healing. Together, I hope we’ll discover ways to “make it through and live again.”

Grief is one of the most common human experiences and one of the hardest to navigate. Grief can feel as painful as a physical wound, and have as much power to affect our daily routines as a form of paralysis. When grief has a grip, we feel like we are moving in slow motion, while the rest of the world is speeding ahead.

 Ann offered this reflection as part of worship on June 8th.

I was privileged to be a member of Linda Watskin’s Midrash writing group. Midrash is an ancient Jewish tradition which I would describe as thinking and writing about what happened “between the lines”in scripture. As we know the Bible is not like the Minutes of a meeting. Major details and interpretations are often missing, leaving the Rabbis and us to ponder questions like “What did Noah really say when God told him to build an arc, and furthermore, what did his wife say when Noah told her what he was going to do?” Midrash writing can take many forms and can be brief reflections or essays, or short stories or poetry or prayers.

Our assignment from Linda for the one I am going to read today was to select a scripture verse, one that left us with an unanswered question and then to select something “from afar.” It could be another Bible verse, or writing from another source, and we were not to spend too long selecting the second item. There did not need to be any obvious connection between the verses. We were to weave our way from the second verse to the initial verse…our own personal story was to be woven into the writing… and we were to find an answer in that weaving. As always her instructions included…”just begin and you will be surprised with how the mind takes flight and makes connections.” And I was surprised!

For me the concept of “an all powerful” God has always been a difficult one to understand. So I selected a verse from Psalm 68, which emphasizes the enormous power of God….

Awesome is God in his sanctuary, the God of Israel;
he gives power and strength to his people.
Psalm 68:35

My verse from afar is a poem by Daniel Ladinsky, which is based on his interpretation of a Poem by a Persian writer, Hafiz. It is called Two Giant Fat People.

God and I have become like two giant
fat people living in a tiny boat.

We keep bumping into each other and
laughing.

Here is my reflection:

Where can I meet this powerful God?
How do I find his sanctuary?

It is impossible.
It is too lofty, too strong,
too far away for me to reach.

The ancient Jews called on this God
in heroic terms.
They expected Him to:
shatter the heads of their enemies,
bring processions of musicians and princes,
frighten wild animals,
scatter the people who delight in war.

I cannot summon such powerful words.
My needs seem smaller,
more trivial,
more subtle,
more personal.
Sometimes as I struggle I forget where to turn.

My image of God changes from day to day.
Is He
Fire?
Light?
Angry father?
Breath?
Love?
Up? Down? Or all around?
How can I be sure that I am reaching him?
Sometimes He does not feel so distant.
I’m not sure why He comes.
I did not call him in biblical tones.
I am surprised when He bumps into me.
He arrives without trumpets.
He brings a gift,
a friend,
a glorious fall day,
a solution to a problem,
a decision for peace,
a joyous anthem,
a miracle.
And then I think that maybe God and I have been sharing this boat for a long time.

At the end of the Christianity 101 class, Andrew shared his faith with us through an art project and reflection.

Inner Life Box
This project is based on an idea from Fr. Richard Rohr: The first half of life establishes the container. It has to do with a person’s identity, personality, boundaries, likes/dislikes, groundedness, and how her/his life experience affects these (successes, failures, woundedness, healings).  The second half of life is what we put into the structure — what is important.  In the process of this discovery we may find that our container changes.

The basic box design is exactly scaled to the Ark of the Covenant (Exodus 25:10).  You may notice moments of grace and beauty poking through; an unfinished, rough side; wounds and healing; the light of Christ shining all the way in — or radiating all the way out.  Inside the box, I placed a faith statement, a personal mission statement, and short wisdoms that currently resonate with me. All these will change!

At the end of our Christianity 101 Class, Win shared this reflection during worship:

I have lived all of my life with facts. In my early schooling, I was most comfortable with math. Then in college I majored in science and later in business. I found faith very difficult in Church School at the Congregational Church where my parents and grandmother belonged. After going through a Confirmation Class there I decided not to join the church because I believed members said the right words but lived their lives quite differently. Then I had a long talk with our Minister who convinced me that I would find it better to join because then I could influence change more effectively as a member than as an outsider. So I became a member.

My life in business was with a technical firm. Though my boss for 30 years was an evangelical Christian, we never talked about faith. I hardly ever went to church until Sarah and I were married.

Through the years Sarah and I have attended many churches and I have always had trouble with the various statements of faith that were said because they weren’t my beliefs. We have been members here at West Concord now for well over 40 years and I have admired and loved our members who could talk so easily about their faith. This past nine months we have been members of a special course called Christianity 101 led by Hannah. The concluding assignment was to write a statement of faith reflecting one’s own journey of faith and sharing it with others. It was then that I realized that I had faith, not so much in church creeds but in the way I tried to lead my life. Finally I had to write what I really believed in, even if it didn’t match the various faith statements that I could not say truthfully.

Here is the statement of my beliefs:

I believe in a Great Spirit called God who dwells with us and in us.
I believe in following the teachings of Jesus.
I believe in loving my neighbors.
I believe in justice for everyone.
I believe in working for peace.
I believe in helping those who are suffering and downtrodden.
I believe in protecting and preserving the beautiful natural world.
I believe in supporting everyone’s right to his or her own faith. Amen

Faith Formation is probably the single most challenging thing that I have ever taught, and I have taught 5th grade math and college physics. Yet, I have been guided by something my graduate adviser used to say repeatedly, probably hoping that at least some of her students would get this message; “You need to tell students what to look for without telling them what to see.” In other words, you have to trust that the children will construct their own meaning. Although I leave WCUC with many emotions, one thing I feel certain about is that I do trust these children. As they have demonstrated over the past few weeks, learning about the many references and images of God, they have real vision! I hope that I have created an environment in which each child may continue to feel safe to look and see through the filter of their own lives, develop a deeper faith, and bring that faith out into a world that is in great need of God’s love.

Blessings, Marjorie

Amy G., who joined the church this year, shared this reflection on Pentecost Sunday:

I am so pleased to have taken the course Christianity 101 with Hannah and the other wonderful members of this group. I am also so pleased to be a new member of this church. Some of the many aspects of the church that drew me to join include the caring and active members, the thoughtful planning of the services, the weekly sharing of joys and concerns, Hannah’s wise and gentle leadership, the beautiful music, Sunday Fellowship and the commitment to the Open and Affirming Statement. The last line of the Open and Affirming statement is “We strive, as individuals, to become more Christ-like in our love for one another. Through the reading and discussions in the Christianity 101 class, I learned more about what Christ was like. This has helped me to understand what it means to be more Christ-like in my relationships so that I can strive to be more like Him in all of my relationships. Thank you for welcoming me into this community. Becoming a member is in important next step in my own faith journey.

Church has been a part of my experience throughout my life. I was brought up in the Episcopal church, I married a Catholic and my husband and I raised three Catholic children. Nonetheless, in some ways, I feel that I am in the early stages of my own faith development. Right now in my journey, I am exploring how Christ, in the form of the spirit, is a part of every human relationship. I am drawn to the New Creed by the United Church of Canada. To quote part of it, “We are not alone. We live in God’s world. We believe in God, who has created and is creating, who works in us and others’ by the spirit.” The last line of the first act of my family’s favorite musical, Les Miserables, is “To love another person is to see the face of God.” I believe that the love we have for other people IS God. Our ability to care, to celebrate another’s joys, to sacrifice our own needs for another and to forgive are some of the ways in which God’s spirit works in us.

Through my job as a high school teacher and on my own outside of my work, I have led service and cultural immersion trips with young people and adults to South Africa for the past 5 years. I learned early on that we, the travelers, benefit far more from our time in South Africa than any of the people there. We serve alongside people who are working so hard to transform their country by helping themselves and each other to have safe, productive and meaningful lives. I have been very moved by the faith and spirituality of the Christians whom I have met in South Africa and I have grown as a person in so many ways through my relationships with people there. You may have heard of the term, Ubuntu, which has its origins in the Bantu language from Southern Africa. While I have heard many definitions of this term, they all share the concept that we exist only in relation to others. We are who we are because of our relationships and interactions with others. In other words, our relationships define us. Just as the New Creed says “we are not alone. In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us.” I believe that God is at the heart of every human encounter and relationship. This is both a comfort that I cherish and a responsibility that I take very seriously. I look forward to getting to know more of you in the weeks and years to come. Thank you again for welcoming me into this wonderful community.

Lamentations 3:37-58

“I called on your name, O Lord,
from the depths of the pit;
you heard my plea, ‘Do not close
your ear
to my cry for help, but give
me relief!’
You came near when I called
on you;
you said, ‘Do not fear!’
You have taken up my cause,
O Lord,
you have redeemed my life.” (vv. 55-58)

This is the darkest day of the church year, the greatest test of our faith. The man celebrated as the Messiah entered Jerusalem just six days ago, greeted greeted like royalty by throngs with palms, only to be betrayed, arrested, arraigned on trumped-up charges, and crucified to pacify a fickle mob. Now the fledgling movement he led with forgiveness and healing is bereft, leaderless, faced with teaching the gospel without a guide. They had been warned of this day, but none of the disciples could have been ready. His promised return must have seemed impossibly abstract after the tomb was shut. They were left only with prayer.

The poems of grief collected in Lamentations are harrowing expressions of anguish and loss after the destruction of the temple and Babylonian exile. These poems speak from “the pit” of utter isolation and give voice to a fearful gulf between God and his people. And yet, the mournful cry of the speaker in Lamentations is at once the cry of the disciples for their Lord’s resurrection. And their prayer is answered:

“Do not fear!”

They—and we—have been redeemed. Our Redeemer comes!

Hear our cry, Lord. Comfort us in our need. Renew our belief. Amen.

~David Sw.

John 19:38-42

“They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths” (v. 40).

That hour just after the death of a loved one is a holy hour.

It is so different from the desperate final hours of life. The frantic response to the fatal illness, the desperate medical attempts to fix it, the urgent calls and texts, the squabbling with relatives and doctors, the hell of seeing the loved one’s final labor.

Then, when it’s over—when the loved one is released from her struggle, there is that holy quiet. Just memories and gratitude, a washing over of gratitude at having loved and been loved by this person. Forgiveness—no squabbles now. Courage—nothing can hurt me now. Peace. Love overflowing.

I like to imagine that it was in this state that Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus looked upon Jesus’ finally-still body. They had stood the entire vigil. They had agonized with Jesus through the whole unjust thing. Then, in the holy quiet surrounding his death, both these secret disciples found the courage to step out of the shadows, determined to love and honor the man, at least in death. Joseph “outted” himself by asking Pilate’s permission for the body. Nicodemus joined him, providing a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes. Maybe they had servants assisting, but the story says these presumably wealthy and powerful men personally wrapped Jesus’ body with the spices, according to the burial customs of the Jews, and laid him in a brand new tomb, like royalty.

That blessed state of humility, bravery, clarity, honor and love—they had it in that holy hour. God bless us with the grace to live in that state every hour.

Here might I stay and sing—no story so divine! Never was love, dear King, never was grief like thine. This is my friend, in whose sweet praise I all my days could gladly spend; I all my days could gladly spend. Amen.

~Ruth

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

“Now before the festival of Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. … And during the supper Jesus … got up from the table, took off his outer robe and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water in a basin and began to wash the disciples feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.”

This familiar scene has become part of our Maundy Thursday ritual. But I find myself wondering, what exactly did the disciples think was going on? First, it is important to note that, according to John, all this took place “before the festival of Passover.” The other Gospels, however, place the Last Supper on the first night of Passover. But John chooses to put it the day before the Passover because, in part, that would put Jesus’ crucifixion at the time the Passover lambs were being sacrificed. John makes frequent reference to Jesus being the “Lamb of God.”

In this passage the disciples are at a meal with Jesus when he begins to wash their feet. I doubt they had any idea what Jesus was doing or why. In fact, Peter initially refuses to let Jesus wash his feet, to which Jesus responds, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”

After Jesus had finished, he returned to the table and said to them, “Do you know what I have done for you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you should also do as I have done for you.”

Here Jesus is teaching the disciples and us about humility and servant leadership. Like us, I don’t believe they got it right away. It’s a hard lesson to learn. It is not about being the top dog or even about getting recognition for what we have done. It is about how we choose to serve those whom we have been called to lead. Jesus’ lesson leads right into his final commandment, to love one another as he has loved us, as a servant willing to sacrifice all in the service of loving God and all people, even those who we don’t particularly like or who betray us. After all, Jesus washed Judas’ feet despite being aware that Judas was about to betray him.

Dear God give us the humility and the faith not to seek glory or recognition but to truly love you and the world in the face of both joy and adversity just as you and Jesus love us. Amen.

~Keith

Lamentations 2:1-9

“How the Lord in his anger has set the daughter of Zion under a cloud! He has cast down from heaven to earth the splendor of Israel; he has not remembered his footstool in the day of his anger” (v. 1).

Just the title of this book of the Bible, Lamentations, irked me. I don’t want to lament things for long; I want to look to the future. But then a bit of research produced some interesting details. These psalms of lamentation were thought to be the work of Jeremiah, but more recent scholarship finds that the “thought and diction” are so different from other writings by Jeremiah that his authorship remains in doubt. I also learned that each of the first four chapters forms an alphabetic acrostic with one stanza for each of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet. That is something one cannot see in English translations, but it must have been fun for the ancient Hebrew author(s) to construct such complexity. Or would the listeners have recognized, even anticipated, the acrostic structure when these psalms were read aloud on days of mourning and fasting?

In the verse that I selected, two aspects intrigue me. First is the overall belief, evident everywhere in Lamentations, that the author believes that God controls every detail of life. When things go wrong in Israel, the author is certain that God made those terrible events occur. The people have transgressed, and punishment comes from the Lord. It is the Lord who has brought his wrath to Israel, ruined its strongholds, and destroyed its palaces. Do we in the UCC believe that God controls every aspect of our lives? We emphasize God’s love much more than God’s wrath. At least in some verses in Lamentations, a repentant Israel does gain some hope from the Lord.

The second intriguing detail is the metaphor of the footstool. Israel, the daughter of Zion and Judah, is the footstool of the Lord, writes the psalmist. What is lowlier, more powerless, than a footstool? But I want to say to everyone: you are no footstool. Don’t allow yourself to be a footstool. Stand up for yourself. Perhaps Lamentations, in fact, represents just that kind of assertion.

Dear God, help us find the right combination of humility and assertiveness in life. Help us get beyond lamentation to hope. Amen.

~Susan