Psalm 86

“Incline your ear, O Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and needy. Preserve my life, for I am godly; save your servant, who trusts in you—you are my God. Be gracious to me, O Lord, for to you do I cry all the day. Gladden the soul of your servant, for to you, O Lord, do I lift up my soul.”

In this Prayer of David, we are reminded that our merciful God is always with us to guide us and strengthen us as we seek peace and grace to help us get though the trials and temptations of our daily lives. Our God is unconditional with love and grace and will forgive us our sins and failures to lead a life of good works if only we ask for forgiveness. If we stumble, God is there, if we need Divine support to work through moral, physical and emotional challenges, God is there—an omnipresent lifeline ready to listen, uplift, and give us courage if we will only take time to seek comfort and Holy sustenance. Even in our darkest hours, we trust that God is there to listen to our pleas. In fact, Psalm 86 tells us that the more oppressed we are, the more likely God is to respond. Verse 7 says it best: “In the day of my trouble, I will call upon Thee for thou wilt answer me.”

Holy and forgiving Lord. You are our everlasting rock and salvation. You provide support and love to all who believe and call upon you. Guide us, sustain us and forgive us always and grant us your steadfast love, wisdom, grace, strength and peace when we reach out to you in prayers of supplication and gratitude. Amen

~David C.

1 Corinthians 8:1-2

“Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. Anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge; but anyone who loves God is known by him.”

In an effort to resolve certain arguments among the church members of Corinth, Paul begins with this admonition. He wanted to emphasize that, although the questions and concerns that had been raised were important, the more important issue was that anyone who claimed to have the answers and was speaking for Christ did not and was not. The real divide was not the differences in opinion that might naturally arise (such as was it acceptable for Christians to eat the meat of animals sacrificed to idols) but that certain individuals had taken it upon themselves to speak and act as if they had divine authority.

Although our current faith questions are different from those of the Corinthians, the issue of individuals or sects or religions claiming absolute knowledge of God’s Will or Jesus’ Way or the Teachings of the Bible remains the single greatest cause of conflict among people and nations.

Paul’s admonition is as appropriate now as it was then. Perhaps even more so, given the impact of electronic media and the ability to transmit “knowledge” to millions of people instantaneously. Those who think they have ownership of the truth do nothing but create conflict. But those who can love others they disagree with, or who have different beliefs, are all recognized by God. He sees us reaching towards him, seeking more closeness, each in his own way on his own way. We are all climbing the same mountain alone together.

Lord, help me discern my individual path to you and be willing to do the hard work of knowing for myself. Amen

~Priscilla

John 4:5-42

What can we learn from this Samaritan woman?

After Jesus talks with Nicodemus in Jerusalem in the passage we heard last week, Jesus goes to the Judean countryside. Then he decides to return to Galilee, but must pass through Samaria on the way. Jesus and his disciples stop at their ancestor Jacob’s well, and the disciples head into town to buy some food. Jesus, sitting alone, has a fascinating encounter with a stranger.

This meeting between Jesus and a Samaritan woman is different from Jesus’ meeting with Nicodemus in almost every way. Nicodemus is a highly respected, well-known Jewish leader; this woman is an unnamed foreigner of low social status. Nicodemus seeks out Jesus secretly, at night; while Jesus initiates his conversation with this woman in public, in broad daylight. Nicodemus asks a series of questions which Jesus answers, ending with a long speech. Jesus engages the Samaritan woman in a busier, more down-to earth conversation which ends with Jesus proclaiming that he is the one she has been waiting for, that he is the embodiment of the great “I Am.”

But the story is plenty interesting just on its own, without contrasting it with the one we’ve just heard. Why is Jesus so interested in talking with this woman of another culture, engaged in menial labor? Why does he want to offer her the gift of his presence, his teaching, his faith? Why is he so accepting of the differences between them? And how does she become such a powerful witness for him, after such a brief encounter?

From Nicodemus, we learn the importance of putting aside our assumptions, our power, our control, to make way for Jesus in our lives. But what can we learn from this Samaritan woman? The answer depends, I think, on where we put ourselves in this story.

This past week I read a story about a church, a predominantly white, suburban church, not so different from ours. This church longed to expand its ministry and to share the good news of Jesus. And they knew that Jesus often did what we see him doing in this story: he sought out those who were disrespected, those who were poor, and brought his message, his presence, to them. And so this church decided that it should act like Jesus, and plant a new congregation in a city. They decided to plant a new congregation in what is sometimes known as the “inner city” – by which they meant a place in the city that was full of people who didn’t seem much like them: people with darker skin and less money.

Now, these church folks had good intentions. They wanted to follow Jesus by connecting with people who weren’t very much like them. And they wanted to share what they had, both good news and money. But with all these good intentions, these folks made some tragic mistakes.

As it turns out, this particular area of this particular city already knew about the good news of Jesus. (Go figure!) There were leaders and communities already there, gathering in the name of Christ and working together in wise and wonderful ways. It’s not to say the folks there couldn’t use some help; some partners to bolster their fundraising and broadcast their message; some allies to amplify their efforts. But they didn’t need a new church, with white leaders, with their own agenda, arriving to introduce the neighborhood to Jesus.

At the heart of the tragic mistake that this majority white, suburban church made was misinterpreting who they were in the story. When they tried to reenact this biblical story, they imagined themselves into the place of Jesus. And here’s a helpful hint: when we’re exploring biblical stories and trying to find our place, it’s almost always safe to say: we’re not Jesus.

So if we want to learn from the mistakes of these folks, this suburban, majority white congregation, this congregation that shares so much in common with us, where should we look in the story? What is our part in this story of the Samaritan woman, if we’re there at all?

Some days, we may be the disciples: rushing back from our errands, and astonished to find out who Jesus is talking to. We may find ourselves just trying to keep up with God and all the crazy ideas God has about who Her good news is for and who might constitute the people of God. We may be surprised to find out what kinds of conversations Jesus is in with folks we didn’t expect to be teaching us: some of the new members here among us; or with some of the Christians we don’t always get along so well with; or folks from so-called “inner city” neighborhoods. We may be the disciples, just trying to keep our mouths shut so we don’t say something like, “Why are you speaking with her?”

Some days we may be the disciples. And some days we may be blessed to be the woman herself. Maybe we’ll discover that, oddly, Jesus wants to talk with us. We’ll discover that Jesus knows all about us and our sordid pasts. We’ll discover out that Jesus wants to offer us living water. We’ll hear him declare to us: I am the I am. And all that glory will send us off and running to tell whoever we can find, “Come and see! This Jesus knows all about me and loves me anyway! Can this be real?” We may be the Samaritan woman, suddenly brave enough to open our mouths and say, “Come, and see!”

Some days, we may be the disciples. Some days, we may be the Samaritan woman herself. And some days, we may be the people of Samaria. Maybe we’ll be so inspired by another person’s encounter, another person’s testimony, that we become willing to invite Jesus to stay with us for a while, to teach us, until we learn to believe.

Where are you in this story today? Are you confused and dismayed by the strange choices of Jesus? Are you full of joy and questions after a deep drink of living water? Are you curious to learn more about the one who’s caused such a fuss? What can we learn from this Samaritan Woman, from this fascinating story?

I hope, at least, we can learn this: we are not Jesus, and yet Jesus is always for us. Jesus is for us, whether we are privileged and powerful, or the object of gossip and ridicule. Jesus is for us, whether we are long-time followers or recent converts or renegades. Jesus is for us, whether we meet him face to face and hear him proclaim, “I am the I am;” or whether we always see his glory through the power of another person’s testimony. We are not Jesus, and yet Jesus is always for us: surprising us, inspiring us, and leading us deeper in to the mystery of faith. Thanks be to God.

~Hannah

Mark 6:1-13

In this reading for today Jesus is teaching in the synagogue. Many disbelieved what he was preaching: “you should repent, if you have sinned!”

I think that Jesus is saying that people need to have faith, that people should believe in him. And that people should repent of their sins. We should also trust that people will have faith in us, even if some people don’t believe in us.

Dear God, give me the courage and faith to believe that what people are teaching me will be important to me, and that I will be able to turn my life around if I have sinned. Amen.

~Jane

1 Corinthians 7:25-31

“. . . it is well for you to remain as you are.”

As the family “expert” in trying to explore all sides of a situation before making a decision, I can picture myself as a participant in this vibrant, new, religious community at Corinth. I am struggling to determine just what it really means to be called to be a saint.

Paul says that something big is going to take place, and we need to be prepared. What does that mean? I love God, and despite disagreeing with some of these people around me, I want to be a part of His Church. What should I do? What if I do the “wrong” thing? Shouldn’t there be rules that are the same for everyone?

Should I run out and stock up on food … or carpets … or gold coins?
Are only pure single folks eligible to be chosen?
Must I forget all of my sadness at the death of loved ones and behave as if life is perpetually pleasant?
Do I need to withdraw from my worldly connections and spend every minute in prayer?

I have not appreciated everything that Paul has had to say about how I must live to prepare for the new world to come, but in this message there is comfort for me. He is speaking as a trustworthy messenger of the Lord. Not a law. Not a commandment. Rather, an opinion that in light of what is to come, it is wise for me to remain who I am.

Dear God, I am thankful for this hint from Paul that I am acceptable as I am. As I seek to know Your will, may I always endeavor to discover and live the life to which You have called me. Amen

~Ann B.

This fall, members and friends of WCUC gathered to connect to scripture through creative writing.  You can read more here and by picking up a packet of other pieces at church.

This is the list of the descendants of Adam. When God created humankind, He made them in the likeness of God.  Genesis 5: 1

January, 2014

Dear Peter and Siobhan,

Well, your first college Christmas Break is about over.  I loved spending time with you; enjoying the tales of your academic challenges and successes, listening to you share your social adventures, watching you consume mountains of food, observing your pleasure in being together, and noticing very adult changes in you.

Now you are busy gathering your “stuff” for the return trip and I am thinking of you and reading Genesis for a Midrash letter. It is the book that tells “all” about how everything began.  It is so full of fantastic tales, and as you know continues to be the source of lots of theological discussions and disagreements.  Was it really 7 days? How did Noah get all of those animals loaded?  Was Abraham really 100 years old when he fathered Issac; and was Jacob over one hundred thirty years old when he died? What about that “turning into a pillar of salt” bit? Did Joseph of the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat really know how to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams or was he just a good guesser?  Dreams seem to be particularly important.  I wonder if Freud took his cues from Genesis?  Genesis also reads like a biography of the ultimate in dysfunctional families.  Sibling rivalry and sleeping with the baby sitter is clearly not a modern phenomenon, and if your wife does not bear a son, she will give you her maid.  Multiple wives and serial marriages were certainly there at the “beginning.”  Father’s sent children away.  Angels appeared on the roads.  It all makes the extended Bailey Family story seem quite unremarkable.

The importance of the “begats” interests me…Siobhan, first-born daughter of Brian, son of Tom, son of Nellie…The children of Richard were Peter and Julia born of Kathleen.  I wonder if Shelah, child of Judah had any idea that people would be reading her name thousands of years after she lived? Why was it so important to include everyone? Every ancestor of the twelve tribes must be listed.  I suppose it is a bit like us tracing our family back to the Lord Mayor of London and Braveheart.  We come from a special someone and a particular place.

For me, the unifying theme of Genesis seems to be the meticulously recorded history of people stepping out of their “comfort zones,” undertaking unusual tasks, and traveling far from their homes without any clear assurance of successful results.   They tried to discern what their God wanted them to do; they may have protested a bit, but they took action; and then had faith that God would bring about the desired outcome.

Illinois and Troy are not quite Egypt or Sodom or on the shores of the Dead Sea, and you are not likely to starve, but you, Peter and Siobhan, are leaving your homes and setting out on a new path.  May you pay attention to your dreams and never be afraid to begin something because the outcome is unknown.  You are my beloved descendants and members of my clan.  May God guide your journey.

I love you,

Grandma

~Ann

Genesis 17:1-7
John 4:5-42

The Generosity of God

Strike a rock to quench your thirst? You must be kidding. Try squeezing water from a stone. Living water? Like an artesian well springing up within so you never have to worry about being thirsty again? Born again? Impossible. Such miracles are beyond our comprehension when we can only approach God on our terms.

God’s generous gift of water unites these stories: the Israelites, wandering in the desert, longing for water as proof that God has not abandoned them; and a needy, Samaritan woman who is puzzled by Jesus’ gracious offer of living water. Racial barriers are crossed and gender stereotypes are broken, demonstrating the inclusive generosity of God.

Jesus, in asking a Samaritan Woman for a drink, draws on the resources of an outsider, and turns the promises of life upside-down. After such an encounter, there will be no “business as usual” for this female, gentile evangelist who invites her village to come, meet the Promised One. But that didn’t happen without a revealing encounter, filled with innuendo, misunderstanding, double-talk, and revelations (much like the Gospel story of Nicodemus, baffled by Jesus’ invitation to be born again, born from above). When we’ve got Jesus all figured out, something shatters our world-view and we discover that God’s love is larger than our creeds, concepts, answers, and experiences, and will not be fully grasped.

When our lives are dried and brittle, our throats parched, thirst drives us to scheme and bargain with God. In desperation we put God to the test: God’s ways are not our ways. Defining our real needs, and actually meeting them eludes us, and is solely in God’s hands. We’d love some guarantee, just like the wandering, thirsty Israelites, questioning God’s presence and promises. God’s inviting, generous love graciously sets us free to drink from the gushing fountains of endless life, and be refreshed for the Lenten Journey.

Generous God, splash your life-giving Spirit all over us, that we may bathe in your amazing grace, and journey confidently in your promises to bless and be with us. Amen.

~Wayne

Psalm 27

Today’s readings include one of the most cited and recited psalms in the bible—Psalm 23, a glorious testament to the dedication that David gave to God. Fortunately for the reader we also have Psalm 27 included, as well, with its oft quoted verse, “One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.” This small excerpt from the reading contains so much power when you think about the significance of what “living with God” can mean.

We make a very humble attempt to create this sense of belonging, of nearness to God each week through our Sunday worship experience but David, of course, is saying much, much more in this passage. He goes on to describe the joy he experiences gazing on the beauty of the Lord and purposefully states that he wants to reach out to God during his visits to the temple—as we do each Sunday. But we need to think about what it truly means to “dwell in the house of the Lord.” This isn’t a request to visit with God but to truly live with God, to inhabit God’s world, to experience fully the comfort and care needed to be an intimate part of God’s house. Think about our home lives—the effort that we put into creating a home to make it a loving environment for all who live there. This is the relationship that David wants with God—to be part of God’s world and submit to the conditions and responsibilities that come with this holy state. Can we do the same?

Lord, always be there for me—to open the door, when I knock; to let me enter, when I ask; to let me live with you, forever.

~Dave Se.

Mark 4:35-41

Jesus Calms the Storm

The disciples and Jesus were in a boat. Jesus was sleeping on a cushion when a big squall showed up and crashed over the boat. The disciples were afraid of sinking.

When I lost my friend Heather I felt like that, like I have a furious squall in my life. I also worry about always doing a good job in everything, in church and out of church. I pray to God to help me through these rough times; the storms come and go and praying helps me through the storms. I feel like the brighter days are ahead.

Dear God, please help me through my rough times.

~Janice

Mark 4:21-34

Spiritual Gardening

This passage contains the parable of the mustard seed. Jesus likens the kingdom of God to a “grain of mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”

This is certainly a metaphor for the growth of Christianity, but more interesting to me is that it can also be read as a metaphor for the “seed” planted within us by the Holy Spirit, one that—if nurtured by us—will grow to yield the fruit of the Spirit: “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22-23).

I like that image, of a tiny seed within me flowering into a mighty plant. But as I consider how big my particular plant might be, I realize that I have not been the most attentive gardener. How have I nourished that seed and given it room to grow? Have I watered it with wisdom from regular Bible reading and study? Have I exposed it to the sunshine of worship and reflection? Have I stunted its growth through a preoccupation with “getting and spending” rather than by watching vigilantly for tiny shoots of joy and grace?

Is my fruit going to be tiny and tasteless? I hope not. I’m heading to the garden now.

Holy Spirit, you have blessed me with a seed. I pray now for gardening skills worthy of this precious gift.

~Kathy