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.

He blotted out every living thing that was upon the face of the ground, man and animals and creeping things and birds of the air; they were blotted out from the earth. Only Noah was left, and those that were with him in the ark. And the waters prevailed upon the earth a hundred and fifty days. Genesis 17: 23-24

Dear Noah,

I was down by the river washing our clothes when Sarah tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I’d heard the rumor. There was a prediction by, she couldn’t remember who, that the village and everyone in it would be destroyed by fire or flood. I told her there was no truth to it, probably just someone’s silly vision. After all I said, my son-in-law, who is God’s right hand man, would be the first to know, and I would have heard by now. Please give me the inside story so I can reassure Sarah. She’s a nervous wreck.

My best to the boys and my sweet Naamah,
Zillah

Dear Zillah,

How lovely to hear from you. We are very busy these days, but I wanted to take the time to reassure you that I have heard nothing about a fire. Your friend Sarah worries too much. Have Faith, my dear. I will share your news with the family.

Love,
Noah

P.S. I have been looking for a pair of rainbow trout. Did you see any in the river?

Dear Noah,

I am somewhat reassured by your recent letter, but today Rachel arrived at my door in a panic. She was quite beside herself and collapsed in my arms. “Zillah”, she screamed, “we’re all going to die!” Nonsense I told her. My son-in-law Noah said we should not worry our little heads about these rumors. They have no substance. She didn’t believe me. She ran home to pack their belongings and load up the mules.

Please advise.

Your devoted mother-in-law,
Zillah

P.S. Why do you need a pair of rainbow trout? Isn’t one ok?

Dear Zillah,

I thought you would like to hear what your grandsons are up to these days. All three have taken a liking to woodworking. You may see them around the village collecting wood and building supplies. They are quite excited about our new project. I wish I could tell you about it, but it will be a surprise! Naamah is extremely busy gathering food of all kinds. What a hungry crew we have. Hope all is well with you and Lamech.

We all send our love,
Noah

P.S. One rainbow trout gets lonely, I need two.

Dear Noah,

My, my, my, what industrious sons you have. You and Naamah have taught them well. I fear my daughter is working too hard. Can’t I come and help with the food? I am a good baker, as you know. Lamech came in tonight from herding the sheep, and said he’d seen a bad omen. I think he spends too much time alone in the fields. He’s convinced something bad is about to happen. Maybe you could stop by and calm his nerves. I myself have been having great difficulty sleeping these past few nights.

Lamech and I miss you all,
Zillah

P.S. Would another kind of fish do? I can only find one rainbow trout. Someone has been taking all the fish out of the river. Storing up food, no doubt. There are so few to catch these days.

Dear Zillah,

Please give my regards to Lamech. We must get together sometime. I’m afraid I am much too busy right now for a visit. The boys need my help every minute, as well as Naamah. God is a hard taskmaster, and He counts on me, so I must not disappoint Him.

It would be lovely for you to bake some bread. Have it delivered by one of the young boys in town, to the synagogue. I’ll pick it up there. Thank you for your kind offer.

Gratefully,
Noah

P.S. Actually, we have all the fish we need. I have had trouble finding a pair of those allusive Blue Footed Boobies, however. Any chance you’ve seen any out by the rocks along the river? Once again, I need two – male and female.

Dear Noah,

I think I know what the surprise is. The boys are building a big enclosure, so we can all enjoy the animals, birds and fish. Really, we must see it! Lamech and I will come just as soon as we can. This is wonderful news! Can we tell our neighbors?

With love,
Your devoted mother-in-law, Zillah

P.S. No Blue Footed Boobies down by the river. So many animals and birds have disappeared. They say they are delicious when roasted over the fire.

Dear Zillah,

You must not come to visit. The boys would be very upset, never mind Naamah. We are not finished yet with our project. You guessed wrong. It is not for the villagers to see. Only God knows when this project will be completed.

Naamah says thank you very much for the bread.

Noah

P.S. I now have all the fish, birds and animals I need.

Dear Noah,

Most of our neighbors have moved away, such is the panic in our village. It is so quiet around here. Today the air is still, the sky gray and threatening. I can see the rain, coming fast in a sheet across the river. I miss my friends and my family. Why can’t I see my beloved Naamah, and my grandsons? What are you hiding from us? Worry has overtaken us. Lamech and I will leave for the safety of the mountain caves tomorrow. Take care of my Naamah. Tell her we love her so. I fear God has forsaken us.

Good-bye,
Zillah.

~Marcia

This past month, we have been asking members and friends to reflect on the question, “How does my faith impact my daily life?”

A give-it-away revolution took place in my kitchen this morning. The seeds of this revolution were only planted two days ago when I saw a video that recommended that people give away to charity the excess or duplicate “stuff” we all have in our lives/homes. The revolution gained momentum yesterday when my friend Priscilla told me that Household Goods (HG) where she volunteers is in desperate need of kitchen goods.

But the shot heard ‘round the kitchen was fired this morning when I tried to put a plastic storage container into the kitchen drawer, but it wouldn’t fit because there were so many other similar containers in that drawer.

That last event was, as they say, the “ah ha moment.” I realized that I have so many kitchen goods that I can’t even fit them in my spacious drawers and cabinets. The call from the video to give away my excess stuff came rushing back. And Priscilla’s plea for kitchen goods for HG sealed the deal. So in less than an hour, I filled five boxes with excess or duplicate kitchen items for HG. I found that there were generally three categories of items for donation from my kitchen. Here are a few examples of the many things in those five boxes:

I have too many of this: The second blender, excess steak and paring knives, potato mashers (how could I have accumulated 3 of these?), the second wok

I use this too little :3 sets of chopsticks, 4 plastic serving bowls (great when my kids were young, but they are in their 20’s now), a stainless steel pitcher

Would I keep this if I were moving? Good stuff, but forget about it…including 6 extra coffee mugs, a large cooking pot, a brand new cheese cutting board that I got for Christmas, still in its box.

How refreshing for me! Several drawers that had so many kitchen tools crammed into them are now freed from their clutter! I can quickly see the cheese grater that I really like, and I no longer have to cram it in with those surplus potato mashers. Removing that large cooking pot lets me see the three other pots in that drawer that I love cooking with.

But lest you think I am perfect, I will admit that I did not donate the pastry rolling pin even though I have never actually used it. Who knows, now that a de-cluttering revolution has taken place in my kitchen, maybe a baking revolution can take place too?

~Maureen

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

Mary: What just happened? Was I daydreaming? I can’t believe my eyes and ears. Pregnant? How will Joseph and I face the elders of the village? Or will Joseph even believe what I tell him and stand by me during this ordeal? Probably not; I’ll have to face it alone. It has been a strange courtship, but nothing can top this. Pregnant? Pregnant! Yes, I think I’m beginning to feel and accept it as reality. But how do I tell Joseph? Or do I tell Joseph? I must tell Joseph. But he’ll never be able to withstand the shame and humiliation. What’ll I do? Do I run away and hide? I’ll go visit Elizabeth; people must be saying strange things about her weird pregnancy in old age. I’ll seek her wisdom and advice as to how to share this news with Joseph, and the world. The angel did say “Good News for all people!” Right? Let’s see how Elizabeth responds. I’m sure her wisdom and support will help me find good news in this dilemma.

Joseph: Wonder what’s the matter with Mary? She suddenly seems distant and withdrawn, and now she decides to make a sudden visit into the hill country to visit her cousin Elizabeth, and she doesn’t want me to go with her. I’m getting mixed signals: at times others congratulate me and say she seems radiant and jubilant. But when I draw near, she seems stuck in a dark cave, struggling to find her way out. And I can’t get through to her. I can’t imagine – oh, wait a minute. Now I get it. Maybe she’s having second thoughts about the marriage; cold feet. I thought she was solidly behind all the arrangements we had made, even though she had no real dowry. I’m getting old, and this seemed to be my last chance for wedded bliss. What’s happened? I must have done something wrong to turn her against me? Should I come right out and ask her if she wants to call it off? She’s already reacted to my brusque, abrupt manner. My dilemma: to find a gentler, subtle way.

Mary: I can’t believe it — Zechariah is mute; couldn’t say a word about what was happening with this strange and miraculous pregnancy late in Elizabeth’s life. She had felt cursed; now it seems to be lifting. But I am wondering how folks will see my pregnancy as anything but a curse. Maybe we should just be silent like Zechariah, and wait and see what happens. But Elizabeth was comforting and consoling. She reminded me of angelic messengers that had prepared her husband for this life-changing event. Gabriel was straightforward and direct with me: “Fear Not!” But even with angelic voices of jubilant hope, I am still terrified. I can’t keep this from Joseph any longer. I think he has already picked up signals that I am somewhat at a loss about the way this journey towards marriage is unfolding. And now this — is there any way out of this dilemma? Should I go to him? Or wait until he comes to visit? I’ll be in deep trouble, so I don’t want to seem forward and step out of line. Yes, that’s the way; he’ll come soon after I return, and we can have a heart to heart talk. But will he still want me?

Joseph: Guess I’ll stop by when Mary returns, pretending to check on her after her visit with Elizabeth. Then I’ll try to lead into her recent moodiness around me. No, that’s not right. Maybe I should just jump right in: do you still love me? Still want to get married? But I’m never that direct. She’ll be suspicious that there are already rumors flying around the village. Many thought from the beginning that we were mismatched; she was wasting her life on an old man like me. Is my joy and happiness slowly slipping through my fingers? I’ve got to stop thinking about this and do something. But it’s got to be the right thing, or I’ll make things worse. What a dilemma.

Mary: Guess I ought to rehearse my story. There’s no way Joseph is going to believe any of this. After all, he’s a carpenter: “measure twice; cut once.” Everything is measurable . . . carefully worked out . . . each detail is important . . . it’s out there right before your eyes . . . none of this mystery, magic, dreams and stuff. What about, “Surprise.” No, that won’t work; he’s always teasing me about my sick sense of humor. Oh, Lord, give me a word; some direction to get things started. Deliver me from this dilemma.

~Wayne Parrish

The season of Lent begins with Ash Wednesday on March 5th. We will be marking Lent on this blog by sharing devotionals written by members and friends of WCUC. You may also wish to pick up a printed booklet of these devotionals at church.  Here’s an introduction by the editor:

Forty.

There is something in this number.  Noah endured forty days and nights of rain on his life-raft of animal life and humanity.  Moses fasted for forty days and nights while meeting with God on Mt. Sinai (Exodus 34:28)  The people of Israel endured forty years of nomadic privations and deferred promises before returning to Canaan.  Elijah walked for forty days and nights to the mountain of the Lord, Sinai (1 Kings 19:8).  After his baptism in the Jordan, Jesus—in the accounts in Matthew, Mark, and Luke—went into the desert to fast and be tempted for forty days before beginning his public ministry.

Lent, traditionally the period of forty days before Easter, was practiced in various ways since the early days of the Christian church, likely since the second century.  According to Eusebius, writing to Pope Victor I in 203 CE, there was little agreement on how, and for how long, Lent was observed.  “Some think that they ought to fast for one day, some for two, others for still more; some make their ‘day’ last 40 hours on end. Such variation in the observance did not originate in our own day, but very much earlier, in the time of our forefathers.”  That is, since the time of the disciples.  After Christianity was legalized in 313 CE, the practice of some form of fasting or privation for forty days was widely observed, and by the end of the fourth century, it seems Lent as we know it was established.

Beyond the spiritual significance of forty, what does Lent mean?  Whether our fasting is rigorous—one meal a day to sustain strength was the standard in monastic communities—or a symbolic self-denial, during Lent we surrender part of ourselves to remember how Jesus—and  Elijah, Moses, and Noah—found renewed strength in God through suffering and prayer.  Lent is our release from desire into the life of our risen Lord.

Hallelujah!

~David

Matthew 5:38-48

Just for fun, let’s go over what Jesus asks us to do in this passage:
1. Give to everyone who begs from us.
2. Lend to everyone who wants to borrow from us.
3. Love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.
4. Do not resist an evildoer.
5. Be perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect.
Does anyone want to join me in saying, “No thank you “?

Jesus seems to have adapted some extreme sport version of our faith. His enthusiasm is wonderful. But why should we lie down and get walked on? Why should we go bankrupt, and collaborate with criminals? Why should we aspire to spiritual perfection, especially if it looks like this?

These strange and challenging words from Jesus come from his Sermon on the Mount. Jesus is expounding and exploring the law of God shared with the people by Moses (who, by comparison, seems very reasonable). Moses spoke to a community that had a fresh slate. He established rules and habits for a people newly freed from Egyptian enslavement. But Jesus’s original audience was Jewish peasants, and Jewish leaders, and gentiles, and even Roman soldiers, all people with a particular place in a giant colonial empire. He was speaking to people who lived in an entrenched system of division and oppression. Jesus tries to show us how we can follow God within that kind of society. Jesus tries to tell us how we can begin to transform that kind of society into one where love of God and neighbor is fully expressed.

It pains me to admit that I believe we live in a society all too similar to the one in which Jesus first shared these words. Yes, there is unprecedented freedom and wealth in our democratic nation. There’s a lot for us to be proud of. But within our country and our communities are deep divisions caused by differences in wealth, power, education, culture, and privilege. And our presence on the global stage has often been polarizing, rather than peaceful.

How are we to gain traction in our attempts to become more neighborly towards our neighbors, both domestic and foreign? How can we begin to bridge the divisions among us? According to Jesus, it doesn’t happen just by being fair, or even by being generous. We have to go further than that, because of where we’re starting from. Jesus proposes that we simply refuse to be anyone’s enemy anymore. If we are separated by great wealth, we should give until wealth no longer divides us. If we are separated by injury, we should offer forgiveness or confession. We should reach out with compassion and prayer to everyone, especially those from whom we are most divided. We should do this, not out of stupidity or passivity, but out of radical, non-violent love.

I do not mean to pretend that this is easy. It is, perhaps, almost impossible. Those of us with privilege and wealth are terrified of casting any part of it away because we have seen how cruel this world can be. Those of us who have experienced violence and discrimination are terrified to trust those who have hurt us. All of us have become accustomed to our roles as oppressor or oppressed or, perhaps, a bit of both. We have become wonderful fence builders and trench diggers for our own protection in a harsh, antagonistic, greed-driven world.

Jesus’ teachings are almost impossible. And yet, sometimes, through the power of God, we manage to transform conflict into peace, and pain into promise, and enmity into hope.  You may have your own favorite story about this. On Sunday I shared the story of Lucia McBath, a grieving mother who has found the strength to pray for the man who murdered her son.

It is not because Jesus’ teaching is impossible, but because it is in some times and places somehow possible, that people gather in communities of faith all around the world. We gather to remind ourselves of the vision that Moses and Jesus shared: a vision of a just and loving society. We gather to remind ourselves of our own capacity for holiness, and even perfection. We gather to practice, to take baby steps towards, the outrageous, Olympic-sized generosity and non-violence and humility and trust that Jesus calls us to.

God, this teaching is so hard, we want to say, “no thank you.” Help us to see that when we lay down all that we have: our wealth, our power, our privilege; our pride, our resentment, our righteous anger; only then can we discover the freedom you desire for us and the love you desire for all your people. Help us to find a way towards your strange way, and the joy we will discover there. Amen.

On February 2nd, David shared this reflection during worship as part of a series in which members and friends were asked, “How does your faith impact your daily life?”

Many years ago (over 30 actually) there was a very interesting television show on called “Connections” hosted by James Burke, a British historian.  Don’t know if any of you saw any of the episodes but the premise of the show was that unconnected seemingly random events would occasionally collide to produce very unexpected outcomes.  My little testimony this morning is an example of this phenomenon and hopefully you will find it a bit inspiring, or at least somewhat interesting as I share a piece of me that, heretofore has been only known by a couple of people in my life, namely Ruth and Keith and even they have never heard the whole story.

To begin this little saga I need to gather all of you as we step into Mr. Peabody’s WABAC machine and travel back in time to October, 2003.  We had just moved to the area, I had a new job in Cambridge and was undergoing daily cancer treatments at MGH.  That in itself is a bizarre story but that’s not what I’m going to talk about this morning, but it’s an important part of the story.  So, every day I would hop on the T and make the joyous commute on the Red Line from Central Square to the Charles/MGH T Stop and head over to MGH.  This went on for about 8 weeks.  Well, for those of you who remember that beautiful edifice known as the Charles/MGH station back then, it was slated for demolition back in 2003 and for good reason but while it was a dilapidated piece of steel and concrete, it had one feature that the current station does not – a viaduct that connected the station to the north side of Charles Street allowing passengers to avoid crossing the street to get to the hospital.

Now those of you who regularly ride the T know that there is a certain culture that exists among the passenger community – a type of anonymity that allows you to ride almost cheek to cheek without ever actually acknowledging that you are surrounded by a sea of people.  So, it’s with that mindset that I’m trudging off for daily treatments and you couple that with the brain fog that kind of develops when you’re getting daily radiation treatments to your head and neck, well lets just say I was in my own world most of the time.  I just wanted to get in get treated and get back to work.  So, during these daily jaunts back and forth on this walkway I would notice but not really pay attention to the fact that there would be a pile of clothes in the corner at the top of the stairs on the hospital side of Charles Street.  Then one day for no apparent reason than I saw the clothes move I realized that there was a person inside the pile and realized that one of Boston’s many homeless had camped out there to get out of the cold and accept whatever meager offerings the passersby would donate.  One day I decided to contribute to her needs and, as I gave the person some money, she looked up and said God Bless You.  Well, something clicked inside – actually it was more like a snap.  It’s one of those rare ‘moments of clarity’ that you get a few times in your life, when you see a path and just know that it’s the one that you need to take.  You can call it an ‘Aha Moment’, a ‘Jesus Story’, a ‘Vision from God’, whatever, but what I said back basically was going to change our two lives forever.  So I said, ‘God has already blessed me, dear; it’s about time he started to bless you.’  That began a love affair that my wife knows about and fully supports, BTW, that continues to this day.  So the story has many turns and twists and like any relationship has had its rocky moments and its happy ones.  A recent one was just last month Debra (that’s her name) called me up and said, “Dave, I’m turning 60 on Saturday and I’d like to have a party with my grandson.  Can you help?”  Well, how can you say no to a request like that?

I’ll not take you any further down this path.  I was hesitant to even share this because this has been part of my life path and, you know, some things you just like to keep private.  I decided to talk about this, though, because I wanted you to think about this little vignette the next time you see a homeless person asking for help.  Buried inside the tattered clothes is a person who needs help and, when you do, God truly does bless you.  Amen.

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

This is the day that the Lord has made. Psalm 118:24

Darn… someone took “my” space near the door. I must be late.  The escalator is filled…the parking ticket cash line is four  deep…should I rummage in my bag and dig out my credit card?  I can’t run down the stairs anymore so just won’t make it onto the first train…Thank God for escalators.

Ah… not my favorite seat at the end of the car… but at least a seat near a pole so I have something to help me stand up…glasses on…Sun Magazine open…quiet time in the crowd.  Maybe I should get an I Pod so I can really shut out the world like most of my companions on this journey to the city?

Davis Square…more seats filled…Porter Square…every seat filled…two baby strollers, pushers and pushees clearly sleep deprived… one bicycle…Harvard Square…smoosh together…keep reading and try to avoid looking at the standing crotch directly in front of me…Central Square…depart slowly…very slowly and STOP!

“There is a health emergency and there will be a short delay…”

Not in my car, I hope. Did someone get pushed onto the tracks? Minutes pass…must concentrate on my reading. More minutes…why don’t they tell us something? Anything would be better than the silence. I’ve finished my magazine…now what do I do? The Kendall Square hard-charging start-up type beside me slams his computer shut. The U Mass student- type with the crotch in front of me says “Shit, late for class.”

Still more minutes. Conversations seem to have ended.

Ten or fifteen minutes…someone sneezes…do we have enough oxygen in here for all of us to breathe…maybe we need gas masks like the Japanese. No one is speaking…we’re in worlds of our own.

Why am I doing this?  I am retired…don’t need the aggravation or the money. Help, I am surrounded by angry frowns.

And then in the heavy worried silence a sweet young voice…

“This is the day…This is the day…
This is the day that the Lord has made
Let us rejoice…Let us rejoice…
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

Where is that sound coming from?  Angels on the “T?” She is about six or seven…sitting quietly beside her mother…backpack on her knees…singing only to herself…but the whole car becomes her audience…I need a Kleenex…tearful smiles slowly spread around me…except maybe not to the homeless drunk’s face who probably rides the train to stay warm.

The car is moving now… I would love to hug and thank our young singer for her holy message on this miserable ride…and tell her Mother that her daughter changed the day for some very lucky riders…but of course that sort of thing is not done on the MBTA.

Finally… Downtown Crossing … climb the stairs…I just hope that Grassfields Café still has a warm greeting and a bran muffin for me.

~Ann B.

On February 16th, Sharon shared this reflection during worship as part of a series in which members and friends were asked, “How does your faith impact your daily life?”

When Keith asked me to talk about how my faith had impacted my everyday life, I immediately thought of an experiment I had done a few years ago, which I nicknamed, “Just Say Yes.”

I was and am involved in a variety of different groups, and had reached that point where people in those groups were always asking me to volunteer for different tasks. Some of you are very familiar with this issue! And so when I was asked, I would go through the usual thought process: “Is this something I feel comfortable doing? Is this something I can do well enough that I’d be good at it? Is it going to fit into my schedule easily?” Sometimes I’d say yes, sometimes I’d say no, but there was always a lot of internal debate. But then I felt my faith pushing me to take all those thoughts out of the picture, and just trust that if I were needed enough to be asked, then I should Just Say Yes, and it was what I was meant to be doing.

Now, I wasn’t totally crazy about this; I felt OK saying no to things that were logistically impossible, and I didn’t feel like I had to make a life-long commitment to this approach.  But I did feel that my faith was pushing me to do it for a couple years. So how did it play out? I’ll give you just 2 of the many possible examples.

One came up when I was a deacon, and we were discussing who could bring communion to Mary Crocker, over at Acton Life Care. I had a mental laundry list of reasons why I didn’t want to do this: I hadn’t visited a nursing home in 30 years and didn’t know how they worked. I’d only met Mary once, and didn’t think she’d remember me. And although Hannah had written a great script for home-based communion, I still felt awkward about the parts that involved praying out loud, and exactly how to handle everything. But I said Yes. And I bet you can guess how it turned out.

First, visiting a nursing home as an adult is much less scary than as a child visiting a dying grandparent. And if you tell a staffer that you’re from a church bringing communion to a resident, they’re more than happy to help you find the right room and let you wheel the person down to lunch whenever you’re done. Mary wasn’t too clear on who I was, but her face lit up when she realized someone from West Concord was there to bring her communion. And the look of utter peace on her face, as she received communion, reminded me that she had loved and felt blessed by this sacrament for nearly a century, and whatever words I might say, she was also hearing a century’s worth of other blessings right along with it.

So here’s a second example, far more secular. For 8 years now, Mark and I have been doing set up at Open Table. Typically we’d do it one Monday each month, so it wasn’t a big time commitment, although it was always a bit of a hassle for me to leave work early. But then some of the other volunteers left, and I was asked if we could do it twice a month. So I said Yes. And wouldn’t you know it, by volunteering just slightly more often, we finally managed to get the routine down pat. I didn’t need to bring a checklist each time, and Mark didn’t need to be shown how to do each step.

After a few months, Mark’s best friend Ravi noticed that Mark wasn’t as available afterschool on Mondays. Ravi’s mom found out why, and mentioned that she’d been looking for a way that she and Ravi could volunteer together. And to make a long story short, for the last few years, they’ve been volunteering two Mondays each month, I volunteer once unless I’m also covering for someone else, and Mark winds up there 2 or 3 Mondays each month since he helps Ravi’s shifts almost as much as he’s there with me.

Life changes, and other commitments and energy levels change.  I’ve since taken a step back from some things I used to do.  But I’m very glad that my faith pushed me to approach volunteering in a new way, and taught me to let go of my perfectionist and somewhat neurotic approach, and Just Say Yes.

~Sharon

I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving, obeying, and holding fast to the Lord your God. Deuteronomy 30:19-20

Moses has come a long way. He led his people out of Egypt and across the Red Sea. He travelled up Mt. Sinai to meet God face to face. He came back down and shared God’s word with the people. He survived 40 years of wilderness travel and has come close to the Promised Land. Now, nearing death, Moses has one more chance to say something to the people of God.

If you look up this text in a bible, you’ll discover that Moses has been preaching for a long time. Moses has shared what many of us know as the Ten Commandments and the Great Commandment. He has conveyed God’s instructions on worship and food; tithes and sabbaticals; war and murder; marriage and divorce; parenting and ploughing. Moses preaches for a long time, and miraculously, the people are still listening. Now, at the end of his speech, at the end of his life, Moses tries to drive his point home. He urges the people to reject the ways of death, and choose life: loving, obeying, and holding fast to God.

You may know that many years later, Jesus relied on the words of Moses as he preached his first sermon (Matthew 5-7). Like Moses, Jesus uses the strongest possible language when talking about the importance of God’s law. Neither speaker wants to take any chances about whether we’ll understand what’s at stake. They provoke us to discover the distance between ourselves and the divine, the distance between ourselves and our neighbors, the distance between our habits and practices that truly honor all life. They provoke us, so that we might begin to liberate ourselves from death and despair, and choose, or choose again, a path of life.

I like to think of God’s law as a valentine for us: a letter of love, designed to help us live fully and well. When we are able to live this law that Moses and Jesus share with us so urgently, we  become Valentines, too: messengers of life, messengers of love, God’s awkward and aging cupids.

Consider looking up what Moses and Jesus had to say about a life well lived. What might a way of life look like for you? How can you choose life today?

Source of all life, teach us your ways, and help us to be messengers of love in the world. Amen.

~Hannah

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

“The very basis of nonbelief in soul comes down to nonexperience of soul.”
Francis Bacon, O.F.M.

When mother died her soul passed over my right shoulder rushing upwards through the window of New York Hospital.  I felt her say “I can’t stop, Priscilla, I have places to go.”  And go she did.  She left me standing there, a firm nonbeliever, with the sudden and terrible burden of knowing.  I couldn’t tell anyone.  My family, which moments before I had been part of, were all atheists.  My experience would be attributed to a psychological coping mechanism. After all the years of fighting off mother’s manic rages about God and Jesus and the Bible she tagged me one last time and left the game.  It was unfair. I put the new truth in an unused corner of my mind. It was an unexpected and unwelcome gift.

As much as I grieved when she died I was also glad the battle was over, and not just with lung cancer.  We had been fighting a lot over what I felt were her unrealistic expectations about how much time I should spend with her.  We stopped talking for three months until my sister made us make up.  But now that she was dead I was free.  Or so I thought.  Come to find out all the tasks of differentiating and separating from parents were still there.  But now I had no adversary.  Once again she had left the battle prematurely, on her terms, and left me unresolved.

Weeks later when I was canoeing at a friend’s lake house mother’s spirit suddenly materialized over me.  She was pretty high up but still powerfully present.  She didn’t say anything, just hung around for a while.  I was angry and resentful that she had inserted herself back into my life and told her so.  I was also anxious she would randomly keep revisiting me.  She did continue to hover from time to time, but didn’t stay too long.  She seemed to respect my discomfort.  Still, it was intrusive.

Months later I took the train home to New Britain to visit my father.  I knew her spirit was traveling with me but, as I was disembarking from the train in Berlin, she rushed off.  She headed in the direction of the house.  I realized then that after so many years of divorce she didn’t know how to get back to him.  I was her conduit.  I felt compassion for her but was also relieved.  I’m not sure how long she hung around my father.  He never said anything about it and I didn’t ask.  I doubt he was even aware of it.  She never visited me again.

My last experience with Mother’s soul was when she was reincarnated.  One day I was walking down Madison Avenue when I suddenly became aware that she had just been born again.  I knew she was a girl child and wondered who her parents were.  I was pretty sure they lived in New England.  I didn’t have any major emotional reaction.  I don’t think I was even particularly surprised, which is pretty remarkable considering I didn’t believe in reincarnation.

Years later I started to deal with the knowledge I had been given.  After various encounters with God I had a conversion experience and saw the risen Christ.  Jesus was the image I was most familiar with, having been raised a Christian, but I have no doubt others perceive the Divine Embrace in personas or symbols more familiar to them.  Over the years I have come to believe that we are all part of one Soul we call God, and that we each carry a piece of it within us.  It is what gives us life.

People have written about trying to recognize the face of God in everyone and, though it is sometimes hard to do, they are right. It is there, though maybe badly scarred or hidden from the Light. Helping others heal through acceptance and compassion is part of our own spiritual work.  We grow the soul within us when we love others, and we grow their souls as well.  And that is what we have all come here to do.  Grow souls.

When we die we can choose to stay in the realm of spirit or become flesh again on earth. I’m not sure why people choose to come back.  Perhaps there is unfinished business, or a need to make amends.  Or maybe they just like growing souls.  Nor am I sure why mother came back. But I suspect it was because she loved and lived life with so much passion not even Heaven could contain her.  Since her rebirth I have kind of kept track of how old she would be now and wonder if I would recognize her if we met.  I’m pretty sure I would. It would be a welcome gift.  And not totally unexpected.

“After all, it is no more surprising to be born twice than it is to be born once.”
Voltaire

~Priscilla