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Author: Tim

Senior pastor of First Congregational United Church of Christ. Ordained in May, 1983. Called to First Congregational UCC in August, 1994. Retired July 1, 2018.
And then it was calm

And then it was calm

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I just reworked a favorite sermon. Let me know what you think …

I was scared.

Even I was scared. I’ve fished this lake since I was eight and swum in it since I was four. I know it. I respect its power. But I’ve not been scared by it. I’ve been in storms, some pretty wild storms. But I’ve not been scared. I know what the boat can do and I know what I can do.

But this time it was different. Too many people in the boat and some of them never in weather like this. They were panicking and I was scared. We couldn’t make any headway. We couldn’t manage the boat. The wind was too much. The waves were too much. The water was coming in, fast, too fast, faster than we could push it out. We used the oars to steady the boat, to quarter the waves, but it was too much. We couldn’t hold the angle, we couldn’t stabilize the boat, we couldn’t keep the water out. And the more water we took, the worse it got.

We were going nowhere but down. We were going down and Jesus with us.

I should have seen it coming. The lake can kick up rugged weather with little warning, but I should have seen it coming. We were so eager to get away, to get away from all the people, to get away all from the clamor, just to get away. Even Jesus seemed anxious to go.

It was late. We’d been there all day at the water’s edge. We thought we’d have enough light to make the crossing. We wanted to go, Jesus wanted to go, and we’ve grown used to doing what Jesus wanted. But I know this lake. I should have seen it coming. I should have known better. I should have said something.

So there we were in the boat in the storm and I was scared. There was little to do. My body, hands and arms, were busy — pulling an oar, grabbing a gunwale, heaving a bucketful — but my mind was strangely still, watching, just watching. Watching the awesome power of wind and waves. Watching our futile gestures in response. Watching my friends. How real they were to me in that moment! How real the wind and waves were to me in that moment! How real death was to me in that moment …

I felt death draw close. I tasted my breath and it tasted good. I would die, but I would taste death, too.

I looked at my friends and they looked at me and without words we shared the awful exhilaration of that moment, poised at the threshold between life and death. I looked toward Jesus, and there he was asleep on the stern seat! I screamed at him.

It’s not that I didn’t understand his exhaustion. We were exhausted, too. But we were boatmen and it was time for us to do our job. Jesus had been doing his job all day. Jesus had been doing his job for many days. It was crazy — hordes of people, crowding to listen, pushing close to see, forcing us to the water’s edge and beyond. Jesus in the boat speaking in puzzles. People eager to listen even when they couldn’t understand. People waiting to see what he would do, waiting to see if the rumors were true, waiting to see something, because maybe there was something.

It was exciting to be near Jesus, to be among the company of his followers, to play a part in this remarkable movement was so stirring the countryside. But, at the same time, I wanted to be rid of the crowds, to have some time alone with this compelling man I had left home for. I was glad we were going away. I was glad we were going away with Jesus. I looked forward to those intimate conversations when Jesus would patiently answer our questions and open our minds and hearts to worlds we had not conceived before. But now the storm and Jesus sleeping.

I screamed at him. “Don’t you care?”

He had seemed to care so much, not just about his mission, but about us. But now, what difference does it make? We were going down with a holy man asleep in the stern. What difference does it make who’s asleep in the stern?

All that heady talk suddenly seemed beside the point, ethereal, unreal. The storm was real. The storm was everything that was real.

They say that calamity makes a pray-er out of you, but I say they say wrong. I had no time to pray, no space for the luxury of spiritual conversation. It was time not to think, but to struggle. It was time to live or die. Fear has a marvelous way of clearing away all the fluff. Death has a marvelous way of focussing the mind. You want power. Feel the wave. You want truth. Drink the wind.

I shook him, I screamed in his face, and he awoke. He sat up on the stern seat and he spoke. At least I think he spoke. It was hard to distinguish words from wind. He didn’t shout. He didn’t plead. He simply spoke. Not to us. Not, it seemed, to God. It seemed that he spoke to the wind itself.

And then it was calm …………

And then it was calm. Not the stale, ominous calm when the storm collects itself just before unleashing its fury. Not the heavy, burdensome calm when air hangs limp and stifling. Not the dead calm when it seems as if, for a moment, life itself is holding its breath. No, it was a calm of water moving, almost imperceptibly, but surely moving, gently lifting and receding, of air still, yet alive, breathing, filling, enlivening, refreshing. It didn’t happen suddenly. It didn’t happen slowly. It just happened. We were in the storm and then it was calm.

The water in the boat sloshed gently back and forth as we bailed. I wanted to look at him, but I didn’t dare. I wanted to hear him speak, but I didn’t know what to ask.

The lake was still, but my heart was not. The squall was passed, but something else now scared me even more than the storm. I had looked beyond life’s edges, I had been to the other side of the storm, and Jesus was there. Jesus took me there. And I didn’t know what I would find there …

Human Rights Watch Issues Report on Salvadoran Deportees

Human Rights Watch Issues Report on Salvadoran Deportees

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Yesterday, Human Rights Watch issued a report entitled, Deported to Danger, summarizing its findings after tracking the fate of Salvadoran asylum seekers returned by the United States to their homeland. They found that “in many cases the US is putting Salvadorans in harm’s way in circumstances where it knows or should know that harm is likely.” Many of those returned have either been killed or subjected to “sexual violence, torture, and other harm,” exactly the reason for which they sought asylum in the first place. The Trump administration is deporting Salvadorans discounting the very real threats they face upon return, “despite clear prohibitions in international law on returning people to risk of persecution or torture.”

Human Rights Watch recommends that “instead of deterring and deporting people, the US should focus on receiving those who cross its border with dignity and providing them a fair chance to explain why they need protection. Before deporting Salvadorans living in the United States, either with TPS or in some other immigration status, US authorities should take into account the extraordinary risks former long-term residents of the US may face if sent back to the country of their birth.” And they specifically urge the following six steps …

  • The Trump administration should repeal the Migration Protection Protocols (MPP); the two Asylum Bans; and the Asylum Cooperation Agreements.
  • The Attorney General of the United States should reverse his decisions that restrict gender-based, gang-related, and family-based grounds for asylum.
  • Congress and the Executive Branch should ensure that US funding for Mexican migration enforcement activities does not erode the right to seek and receive asylum in Mexico.
  • Congress should immediately exercise its appropriation power by: 1) Refraining from providing additional funding to the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) for Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and US Customs and Border Protection (CBP) unless and until abusive policies and practices that separate families, employ unnecessary detention, violate due process rights, and violate the right to seek asylum are stopped; 2) Prohibiting the use of funds to implement the Migrant Protection Protocols, the “Asylum Bans,” or the Asylum Cooperation Agreements, or any subsequent revisions to those protocols and agreements that block access to the right to seek asylum in the United States.
  • Congress should exercise its oversight authority by requiring the Government Accountability Office and the Office of Inspector General to produce reports on the United States’ fulfilment of its asylum and protection responsibilities, including by collecting and releasing accurate data on the procedural experiences of asylum seekers (access to counsel, wait times, staff capacity to assess claims, humanitarian and protection resources available) and on harms experienced by people deported from the United States to their countries of origin.
  • Congress should enact, and the President should sign, legislation that would broadly protect individuals with Temporary Protected Status (including Salvadorans) and DACA recipients, such as the Dream and Promise Act of 2019, but without the overly broad restrictions based on juvenile conduct or information from flawed gang databases

If we indeed remain a government “of the people,” we must make our voices heard and work to reverse this cruel policy!

Dimpled Eye

Dimpled Eye

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dimpled eye

I look into your dimpled eye
        and it draws me
out of myself and into a place
        inscrutable and haunting and full of yearning
but for what?

You’re not like your “brother”
        who Tigger-like is everywhere at once
out there, in your face, ring around the rosie
        here’s my duck! here’s my ball!
wanna play?

You are alpha, first, but not last, in our hearts
        Stonington Bear
named for a most favorite place
        cold water and hard stone
                grey granite ledges clung by spruce and cedar and rugosa
        granite boulders, huge beyond imagining
                tossed and tussled on Little McGlathery’s outer shore
        solitary erratic just there, as if it were always there
                as if it will always be there, heedless of tide or my stare
        Lynne captured a harbor porpoise mid-leap
                frozen in her frame, but glistening, pulsating, wild
        once we paddled in mist, water’s surface quiet and uncanny, like glass
                troubled only by the dip of our blades or the rising of a porpoise
it draws me, draws me out, draws me away … and brings me home

I look into your dimpled eye
        and it draws me
is it wistfulness, resignation, distress, just old-body weariness?
        or do you just want to be loved, without seeming too eager
to draw me, draw me away, draw me in … to you?

Teach the “King”

Teach the “King”

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Birds, streams and wetlands, Nigerian immigrants, Palestinians, people counting on Social Security, civilians exposed to landmines … all facing a much more perilous future because of actions taken by the present US administration in just the last few days … and, “the best is yet to come.”

With nation and media fixated on impeachment, one executive fiat after another is quietly rolled out, rolling back years and even decades of hard-won protections for vulnerable people and a vulnerable earth.

Teach the king to judge with your righteousness, O God …
He rescues the poor who call to him,
     and those who are needy and neglected.
He has pity on the weak and poor;
     he saves the lives of those in need.
He rescues them from oppression and violence;
     their lives are precious to him. (Psalm 72:1, 12-14)
Bagaduce Chorale Christmas Concert

Bagaduce Chorale Christmas Concert

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One of the joys of my newly retired life is singing with the Bagaduce Chorale, a seventy-voice regional chorale ensemble that meets weekly in Blue Hill for rehearsals and performs three concerts each year in December, April, and July. Below is a playlist of songs from our most recent concert, a Christmas Concert performed three times on the weekend before Christmas. This recording comes from our last performance at St. Savior’s Episcopal Church in Bar Harbor. I sing a solo in the third song, “Angelus Ad Virginem.”

Let Them Be! — Part 2

Let Them Be! — Part 2

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I am grateful to Shirley Duncanson who, in a comment on my original post, provided links to news articles by CNN, Slate, and the Washington Post that give broader context to the situation with the Cottage Grove campus of Grove United Methodist Church as well as a link to a letter sent by Grove’s lead pastor, Dan Wetterstrom, to the people of both congregations of the yoked church. You may read his full letter here.

I am grateful for the greater clarity provided by the letter and by the in depth reporting, nevertheless, my primary objection remains. For the sake of a church that may come to be, Methodist officials are prepared to sacrifice a church that is. The “re-launch” of the Cottage Grove congregation will mean closing the church as it is and starting over. Current members will — eventually — be welcome to worship at the “new” church, but “Wetterstrom did say that the current members who simply want to attend worship at Cottage Grove are encouraged to wait 15 to 18 months to return.”

Why encouraged to stay away for up to eighteen months? Surely because the Methodist leadership wants to allow time to ensure that a “new” culture takes root in the church, and that the existing culture — patterns of worship, congregational leadership, social interaction — are erased. Because in their view, this culture has failed. Wetterstrom again …

The town of Cottage Grove is not a dwindling rural outpost. It is a fast-developing suburb of the Twin Cities, expected to grow in population by more than 20 percent in the next 20 years. By definition, a church in a setting like that is failing if it is not attracting any of its new neighbors.

Is failing. Cottage Grove is failing because it is not adding more people. William Willimon, a United Methodist bishop and well-known author and speaker, is cited by the Slate article …

Willimon, who has made his own similar decisions to close and relaunch struggling churches, said that accusations of age discrimination paint the church’s last remaining members as victims. But he views younger people in the community as victims, too, because they do not have a church that meets their needs. Meanwhile, he said, the United Methodist Church has effectively been subsidizing a small weekly gathering of friends.

It is hard to say otherwise than that the decision is a matter of numbers: bodies and money. The church as it is is failing because it is not attracting greater numbers and it is not “paying its own way.” Now I do understand the desire to renew and grow the church and I do appreciate the mission of the church “to make disciples of Jesus Christ” too among the many newer residents of Cottage Grove not presently served by the church. But I question the way this “re-launch” is being handled.

Current members of Cottage Grove are being invited to serve on a transition team, but they were not permitted prior consultation or vote in the decision itself. And they are being asked to stay away for eighteen months! Jim Baker, the church founder and still member of the church says …

It was a bolt from the blue, handed down from on high and very shocking to the current members. The congregation was eager and totally open to a new approach, and particularly to [the idea of] a new minister [being] appointed or to start[ing] a renewal process. But they really wanted to be included in that.

He continues …

If the policy is to go into these ‘dying’ congregations and clean them out to make way for new blood, that’s really not very kind, and I think it’s counterproductive.

“Dying” merits the quotation marks, because though the present Cottage Grove congregation is small and elderly, it is very much alive. In Baker’s words, it is “tightknit, loving, and committed.” Yes, there may come a day when it must close its doors, but in the meantime, the church is being church.

In my opinion, this is the crux of the issue: What is church? Is the church an idea, an ideal, an imagined notion of what a church in Cottage Grove “should” look like? Or is the church not an idea or an ideal, but the people, the people who are there, the people who gather week by week, worshipping God and serving each other and praying for the world? The measure of a church is not growth, but faithfulness, and my faith tells me that God honors and rewards faithfulness, that God is blessing and will bless the folks of the Cottage Grove church as it is.

And the leadership of the United Methodist Church would do well to acknowledge and honor that faithfulness, too, not so easily terminating and disregarding this faithful and beloved community, but supporting them and encouraging them and working with them to be the church God is calling them — and us — to be. Disciples will be made, not by remodeling worship spaces and updating liturgies, but by faithfulness itself in action.

For God’s Sake, Let Them Be!

For God’s Sake, Let Them Be!

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It’s hard for me to be charitable about this …

Struggling Minnesota Church Asks Older Members to Go Away

For the sake of a church that may or may not come to be, Methodist officials are prepared to sacrifice a church that is. Because? Because growth is good. Because bigger is better. Because numbers matter. “Cottage Grove is growing quickly and the church should be growing with it.”

“Should.” “Should” implies judgment. “Should” implies that if Grove United Methodist Church is not growing it has failed.

So many questions beg to be asked! What does growth mean? More people? More money? Or growing in faithfulness? Growing in love? Growing in understanding of who God is and what it means to love God?

What does church mean and what is church for? Does the church exist to aggrandize itself? Is growth, numerical growth, an end in itself, the proper mission of the church? Or does the church exist to love God and love neighbor and serve the world?

Grove United Methodist Church has not failed! The church has a regular and steady attendance of twenty-five: twenty-five men and women and children created in the image of God, twenty-five children and women and men that matter, twenty-five women and children and men that are growing in faith and in faithfulness.

For seven years, church members have been preaching week by week because Methodist officials will no longer pay for a minister. They are doing ministry — not merely an “audience” but active participants, grappling themselves with the meaning of following Jesus and leading themselves in offering God thanksgiving and praise.

And they love each other. Jon Knapp, who along with his wife Stella, are the youngest church members and only family bringing children to church says: “This church is very kind to us and our children.” Stella says that if the church “re-start” comes to fruition, if the current older members are asked to stay away while the church makes it its sole aim to attract a younger crowd, “I wouldn’t come here anymore.” Because the people she loves, the people who love her, would be gone. Because it wouldn’t be church anymore.

And because it will have failed its purpose. “Do not conform yourselves to the standards of this world,” the apostle Paul urged the Roman church of his day. But that is exactly what the Methodist leadership in Minneapolis has done. They have adopted the standards of this world, this economy, this culture. They have bought into the lie that bigger always means better, that institutions that are not expanding are failing, that if the population of Cottage Grove is growing, then, for God’s sake, we have to keep up.

For God’s sake — I mean this quite literally — for God’s sake, leave God’s church be! Let them be the church: loving God, loving each other, serving the world. Let them reflect not some data driven idea of what the “successful” church “should” look like, but the kind of church God intends, the church made up of the two or three, or ten or twenty-five whoevers that gather in Jesus’ name.

Jesus is there with them. He said he would be. And it just may be that when those old folks are asked to leave, Jesus may leave with them!

Chosen

Chosen

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I was invited to lead worship again this morning at the Deer Isle/Sunset Congregational Church as their pastor is out of state until Thursday. This was my sermon for this second Sunday of Christmas …

So, how many of you ever listen to EDM?  How many of you even know what EDM is?  EDM is electronic dance music, a musical genre characterized by strong rhythms, lavish electronic orchestrations, ethereal vocals, and cosmic themes.  I first heard of EDM about a year or so ago when I discovered an artist whose music I instantly liked by the name of Laura Brehm.

Laura Brehm does some beautiful singer-songwriter stuff of her own, but also regularly puts out EDM recordings in collaboration with other artists.  Just this week, I was listening again to a song she released about ten months ago with Anna Yvette and a German dance music composer and producer who goes by the name, The Fat Rat.  The song is entitled, “Chosen,” and these are the lyrics …

Greetings chosen
I’ve been waiting here for you
Since the beginning of this universe
You know the world is fading
There’s a secret power hidden in your soul
Don’t be afraid to use it
‘Cause you’re the one

You’re the one
You’re the chosen one

There are voices in your head
Saying that you’re a failure, misfit
You’re not good enough but you know
That’s not true
There is a secret power hidden in your soul
Don’t be afraid to use it
‘Cause you’re the one

You’re the one
You’re the chosen one

See what I mean about cosmic themes?

I’ve been waiting here for you
Since the beginning of this universe

The song taps into an enduring and powerful motif in our human story: the chosen one, the “reluctant hero,” the one born into a particular time and a particular place to fulfill a very particular and world-changing purpose, the one chosen but reluctant and hesitant, feeling not good enough, feeling unworthy, unready, not up to the task.

The reluctant hero must learn to accept and embrace their calling and commit themselves to a purpose much bigger than themselves.  Think of Luke Skywalker or Katniss Everdeen or young Arthur pulling the sword out of the stone.

Or think of Moses.  “I am nobody.  How can I go to the king and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”  Moses was right, at partly right, because the reluctant hero is no hero at all, but simply one chosen, one chosen to fulfill a timely and vital role, not so much hero as servant, serving the plans and purposes of something far beyond themselves, or of Someone far greater than themselves.

We are waiting for such a hero, for such a servant, a chosen one who will not be too afraid to use the power planted in them to rescue this fading world.  This new year, 2020, is an election year in the United States.  Did you know that?  To be honest, I think that’s what so many of us are looking for, for one who will emerge from the crowd of career politicians and self-important candidates to claim the mantle of the one chosen for this time, one who will lead us out of our malaise and divisiveness, one who will help us reclaim our identity as a people united by higher principles and our destiny as a harbor of liberty and justice for all.

But you will not find such a candidate.  Even though some may have been anointed by their followers as the chosen one, it is simply not true.  I know that for a fact, because I know who the chosen one is.  I know who the one is we have been waiting for, the one born into this time and this place with a cosmic purpose.  It’s you.  You’re the one.  You’re the chosen one.

Or, I should say, we are.  We are the ones we have been waiting for.  We are the chosen ones: “Even before the world was made, God had already chosen us.”  Do you need to hear that again?  “Even before the world was made, God had already chosen us!”

How does that make you feel?  Reluctant, hesitant, not ready, not worthy?  But think of what it means!  To be chosen!  By God!  From the very beginning!  It means our lives have meaning … for this time.  Our lives have purpose … for this time.  We are called to serve God’s purpose … in this time.  We are chosen.

Being chosen means being blessed.  “In our union with Christ, God has blessed us by giving us every spiritual blessing.”  It’s right there on our banner: “Enjoy this life.”  We can enjoy this life because we are blessed.  Regardless of the course of our lives, regardless of any hardship or trouble or loss, we may have joy in this life because we have the blessing of being chosen by God to belong, to belong to him, to be made God’s own children in union with Christ, and “there is nothing in all creation that will ever be able to separate us from God’s love which is ours through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

But we are blessed to be a blessing.  We are chosen to fulfill a purpose, God’s own purpose.  And that’s all about the rest of our banner: protect the environment, care for the poor, forgive often, reject racism, fight for the powerless, share earthly and spiritual resources, embrace diversity, love God.   Be the church!

You see, being chosen isn’t a matter of being pulled aside from the rest of humanity to be given some seat of honor, some special status.  Being chosen is a matter of being given a task, of being offered the role of a servant.  We are chosen by God in this time and in this place … to be the church!

You’re the one.  You’re the chosen one.  There is a secret power hidden in your soul.  Don’t be afraid to use it.

Paul declares: “God made known to us the secret plan God had already decided to complete by means of Christ.”  Our secret is knowing God’s secret.  And what is God’s secret plan?  God’s secret plan is “to bring all creation together, everything in heaven and on earth, with Christ as head.”

But why is it a secret?  Because no one would guess it.  So much of human history, so much of our own history, is about pulling things down and tearing things apart, about getting ahead of them, about protecting ourselves from them, about overcoming, about defeating, about separating the good from the bad, friend from enemy, mine from yours.  Who would guess that God’s plan is not about any victory of God’s people over their enemies, not about separating sheep from goats, but about bringing sheep and goats together, about bringing all creation together? 

This is what we are chosen for.  In union with Christ, we are chosen for this time and in this place to play our part in Christ’s task of bringing all creation together.  Every time we share what we have, every time we care for a neighbor, every time we forgive our enemies and pray for our enemies and love our enemies, every time we embrace a stranger, every time we do whatever we can to heal the earth’s wounds and nurture its health, every time we refuse to divide people into us and them, we fulfill our calling.

But every time we divide the world into us and them, every time we judge and condemn, every time we are care-less with what we have and with our earthly home, every time we refuse to share not only what we have but also who we are, we betray our calling, we work in direct opposition to God’s purpose which is to bring all creation together.

Sometimes I wonder …  If we just read our Bibles, if we just listened carefully: “God has chosen us to be his in union with Christ … and has made known to us his plan to bring all creation together.”  If we just listened …  Would we still be so divided: evangelicals from progressives, conservatives from liberals, evangelicals divided among themselves, Methodists divided among themselves?  Would we still argue about what it is that matters most?  Just listen!  Jesus already told us what matters most.  Jesus already told us the key to bringing all creation together: “Love God with all your heart and mind and strength, and love your neighbor, just as you love yourself.”

It’s that clear.  It’s that simple.  And when we try to make it more complicated, when we are divided even among ourselves, we fail our calling, we fail to be the church.

You’re the one.  You’re the chosen one.  You know the world is fading, but there’s a secret power hidden in your soul.  Don’t be afraid to use it, ’cause you’re the one.  You are chosen by God for times like these.  Embrace your calling!  Be the church!  We are the ones we have been waiting for!