In Praise of the Faith Community

I love churches. Whenever I am traveling through a new town, my eye scans the horizon for steeples. Whenever a wedding, funeral or meeting calls me to some other church, I almost always arrive early enough to walk around and get a feel for the place, its people and mission. I pick up newsletters. I read bulletin boards and posted meeting minutes. I sit in sanctuaries and simply absorb the residual Spirit and atmosphere. The same holds true for the monasteries, synagogues, temples, mosques and shrines I have visited. I am drawn to these places where profound and profane meet... these formal touch points between Creator and creation. Something sacred has been lovingly built in these places. With each new day and each heartfelt prayer, more faith, more holiness is added.

Even now, as I sit in my office typing out this reflection, I can hear the cars and trucks zooming by on Routes 5 & 20, just 100 yards away. I wonder where people are going. I know some take comfort at the sight of our building. Perhaps some would stop in to explore and meditate if they only had time. Someday... Someday...

Practical concerns like weather and potential vandals require us to close and lock down at times. Still, in summer, I like to throw open the doors to the Spirit wind and wandering travelers. I've met a lot of interesting people this way, as the sight of our huge oak doors thrown open to the world tends to attract the curious, the troubled, the seeking and the holy. I remember one day when I found myself playing host to three very-excited-if-slightly-lost black lab puppies that suddenly burst into my office. They seemed to appreciate holiness, but, alas, their little puppy brains (hardwired to their little puppy bladders) could only handle so much loving acceptance.

I've also hosted itinerant evangelists, addicts, genealogy researchers, fresh starters, con artists, a few birds and one very persistent bat, all thanks to this open door policy.

I remember one day about ten years ago when these two women showed up. One appeared to be in her late 30s, the other was in her 50s, easy, and seemed to be having a difficult time with arthritis. They were hitching and camping their way from the Midwest to Vermont. A trucker had dropped them off in Avon at the end of his run. They'd walked as far as our doors when they ran out of steam. We gave them a hot shower and a warm meal on that early autumn evening. They seemed a bit leery of a pastor and his family, and didn't share much. Family in Vermont? Nope. Friends? Nope. Jobs? Nope. It dawned on me that these two were most likely traveling together to a location that had just legalized gay marriage. Not knowing where I stood on the issue, they probably chose not to share too much. They simply wanted to make it to Burlington unmolested and uncontested. I felt it best to respect their privacy and not force them to answer to my conjecture. It wasn't my business.

They had a tent and sleeping bags. The 50ish lady said she preferred sleeping outside, but I also saw her wince when she rose from her chair.

A local gentleman farmer granted permission for them to camp in the short grass up behind his pond, and, after dinner, I helped them lug their packs and set camp. It was about midnight that the thunder, lightning, wind and torrential rains hit. I drove and ran to their camp, where their tent had collapsed and they were drenched. They agreed to spend the rest of the night at the parsonage.

In the morning it became obvious that the older of the two ladies was unable to continue hitch-hiking and camping. She turned to her companion with tears in her eyes and said "I just can't do it." I jumped online, found a sister UCC church in Burlington (checking quietly to make sure it was Open and Affirming), called with advance word of these two sojourners, and then we bought them a couple of bus tickets to carry them the rest of the way in padded, heated comfort. At the bus station we asked them only to send word that they were safe and well, handed over a couple of box lunches, quickly, quietly prayed a blessing over them and sent them on their way.

We did receive a simple, brief thank you note, but no other word ever came.

Jesus once said that merely giving a cup of cold water to a child was a holy task. He also said:

"if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on
the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."


We'll never be perfect. Not even close, in my case. But it seems to me the most efficient way to eliminate an enemy is to love them into friendship. Who is the enemy of Christ, anyway? Someone who wants to pursue a quiet life of love and laughter? One who would insist on separation, castigation and discord? Any way you think on the issue, Jesus is crystal clear in his directives. Greet all. Love all. Help all on their way.

Yesterday our faith community, West Bloomfield Congregational Church UCC, voted overwhelmingly - UNANIMOUSLY - to throw open our doors to the wandering stranger.We are now officially an Open and Affirming church, though most would say we've always been so, we just hadn't made it formally known. This was not a vote to "love the sinner, hate the sin," but simply, firmly a vote to LOVE.

I pray that you are part of a faith community that does likewise, or are seeking the same. If you are a part of this faith community and have absented yourself because you disagree with the rest of us or the UCC on this or some other issue, I pray that you will return to love and be loved, to be affirmed, and to be a part of this incredible, wide-open, life- and love-affirming mission to which Christ has assigned us all.

Holy Week: Reality Check

He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.
Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” -- Mark 8:29-33


Knowing there is a God is not the same as knowing God, is it? Acknowledging the initial fact is only the first step on a precipitous, arduous path that most of us choose not to take.

When Peter correctly identifies Jesus as Messiah, he does so with stars in his eyes. He has seen incredible miracles. He has heard astounding sermons. He has stood with Jesus before enormous, adoring crowds. He feels the power and the glory, but he doesn’t know the half of it.

You see, Peter and his fellow followers had always looked to the horizon for a great, conquering Messiah on a charging war-horse, come to set everything right and redeem at last the chosen people in one fell swoop, whisking them off to glory and honor while the other folks were knocked down and left behind. Jesus has to repeatedly, firmly, unequivocally correct this misguided notion. The profane always resist the profound. The gentle are bruised by the harsh. Story time is over, Peter. Wake up to reality.

It is a risky business pointing these things out, but to this day, the would-be followers of Christ regularly require the cold, hard slap of reality. Get behind me, Satan, the truth is the cancer sometimes comes back. Get behind me, Satan, the speeding car doesn’t always stop in time. Get behind me, Satan, starting our third “War to End All Wars” won’t result in Christ coming on the clouds any quicker than did numbers I and II. Prosperity Gospel?!?!?!? Get thee behind me, Satan, God doesn’t intend to be my Santa Claus. God intends for me to be someone else’s Jesus.

“Love God with everything you’ve got, and consider everyone else’s well being to be as vital as your own,” Christ said, summing up the message of all the prophets and scripture from A to Z. Now you and I both know that neither one of us is all that successful in carrying out these two simple requirements. They run counter to what it takes to make our way in this world. Ah, but if we are followers of Christ, the way we are supposed to make in the world isn’t our own, is it?

If I am following Christ to be somehow richly blessed in this world, I might want to turn around now and go back to square one. If I am following Christ to somehow richly bless this world -- yes, here is the path to peace, enlightenment and the kingdom of God.


“For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”—Mark 8:35

Into the Wild

Have you ever heard of Christopher McCandless? A promising young man from a well-to-do family, McCandless graduated from Emory University in 1991, gave away $25,000 in savings to charity, and began to wander North America, facing demons and searching… for truth, for what was real, for himself and salvation. Early in the Spring of 1992, McCandless marched alone out of the world and straight into the barren wilderness north of Mt. McKinley. Why would anyone do that?

Here we are in the middle of Lent. Lent is a wilderness. It commemorates Christ’s 40 days in the desert. It is a time of facing demons and marching straight into the barren wilderness… for truth, for what is real, for ourselves and salvation. We all have barren wildernesses and demons in our lives. We spend a lot of time skirting around them, pushing them to the backs of our minds, doing our damnedest to avoid dealing with them for more than snippets at a time. Christ compels us to march straight out into the middle of our darkest, wildest, most forlorn places. Why would anyone do that?

McCandless made mistakes. He was reckless. He had no lifeline back to civilization, he took no charts or maps to guide him. No books or education to help him survive in the wilderness. He ate some bad berries. He injured himself. He shot a caribou, only to have it rot because he didn’t know how to preserve it. Ailing, injured and hungry, he set out to return to the world, only to find his way blocked by a raging river swollen with the Spring thaw. He searched in vain for miles upstream for a place to cross. Confused, disoriented and without a map, he missed his opportunity for rescue: a cable bridge just a quarter-mile downstream that was clearly marked on every commercial and private map available. He missed it, and he died in his wilderness. Cold. Alone. Starving. His body and his diary were found in August, 1992.

Are you scared of your own wilderness? Afraid to face the demons in your life? Frightened that you too, may be lost? It doesn’t have to be that way. Facing our demons and searching for truth, for what is real, is a necessary task. But we don’t have to face any of it alone or in isolation. Our faith community is our lifeline – remain connected to it and let someone you can trust know where you are going and what you are facing. A Bible is a map and a primer – consult it and learn the lay of the land. Christ is an excellent guide: No matter what our wilderness, He has been there before us. He has faced down all the demons that have popped up in our lives. He has lived through the wilderness we find ourselves in. And He has carved out a trail for us to follow.

Why would anyone want to face the wilderness? Because it’s there…in all of us. Head off into the wilderness. Face your demons. Surround yourself with others who are faithful, arm yourself daily with Scripture, be led by Christ – and face your demons. During this Lenten season may you face down your demons, cross your wilderness, and may you come to your own personal Easter – a blessed place bursting forth in blossoming truth, heavy with the fruit of what is real, where you may rest yourself and see your salvation.

Do the wilderness. But do it right.

What to Do with a Miracle?

They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go, your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. – Mark 10:46-52 (NRSV)

Each morning, Bartimaeus would rise and find his way to a spot along the road where he would do the day's begging. He passed within reach of hundreds of people, dozens of homes, through different neighborhoods without knowing much about the events of these peoples’ lives. He was, no doubt, necessarily concentrating on his own need to make it safely to his workplace. He was blind. How blind am I, in the course of rushing from appointment to appointment, to what is going on around me and in the lives of others?

But today Bartimaeus was in luck. Jesus was approaching. Bartimaeus shouted out and made himself known. He didn’t hold back his feelings despite the crowd trying to shut him up. Jesus had just, by chance, made a sudden, surprise appearance in his life. Their paths were crossing and Bartimaeus recognized this crucial opportunity for what it was. What do you do when Christ suddenly crosses your path...in an idea, in a gesture, in a word that cuts straight to your heart? Do you swallow words you long to speak? Do you hold back a flood of tears? Do you sit back quietly and wait for the moment to pass so as not to cause a scene or draw attention to yourself? Which opportunity will be the last to come along? How many times will I sit and wait for the moment to pass rather than stepping up, speaking out, seizing the opportunity that might never come again?

“Son of David,” Bartimaeus calls Christ. This was not nearly correct, not even close to a full understanding of all that Jesus was, but it was enough. Our knowledge doesn’t have to be perfect, or even accurate. It is faith and desire in the moment, and not how readily we can quote scripture and say the proper words in the proper order, that matters. We should never let our lack of knowledge keep us from approaching Christ in prayer, in praise and worship, in reading scripture. Imperfectly prepared as I am, do I have faith enough to invite God in right now?

“What is it that you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked, even though he could see that the man was blind. Jesus knew what his needs were. Still, he had Bartimaeus name his infirmity out loud. This is what it means to confess before God. Do I want the cure badly enough to seek it out and openly name what's wrong with me?

Bartimaeus, upon receiving his miracle, followed Jesus. Many did not after being healed. They experienced God’s healing power and then went back to their ordinary lives, content that they had won some improvement. Think of all the mind-blowing opportunities they missed out on by dropping back out of the picture! When we experience the Holy in some dramatic way, and then just go home to our ordinary lives, that feeling begins to fade. We can tell over and over again that one story of a time when we experienced a miracle. We can confine God’s work to one or two easily managed occurrences, or we can allow the maker of that dramatic change into our lives and follow along the way, truly becoming a disciple and a witness to countless wonders. Will I limit God to a few crisis moments in my life, or will I open my life completely to challenging, miraculous, spontaneous power beyond my control?