He is risen.
He is risen, indeed.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Saturday, April 4, 2015
It’s Foolishness
by: Bob Henderson
I Cor. 1:18-25
A number of years ago I ventured out to see the play Shadowlands by William Nicholson. It’s about C.S. Lewis’ relationship with Joy Davidson, one of his avid followers. They became friends, as up to that point Lewis was a life-long confirmed bachelor. He married Davidson in order to satisfy immigration regulations, as a favor, although they remained merely friends. Then Joy Davidson became ill and that’s when Lewis realized he was in love. So he married her a second time, this time in the hospital. They had a short time together and then her cancer returned and she died.
In the play he asks: “If God loves us, why does He allow us to suffer so much? ...What possible point can there be to such tragedy? Isn’t God supposed to be good?”
A clergy friend tries to comfort Lewis. “We have to have faith that God knows.” Lewis responds, “God knows. Yes, God knows. I don’t doubt that. But does God care? Did God care about Joy?”
It’s the ultimate human question. Does God care about us and our loved ones? Is God invested in what happens to us as we journey through this world or are we ultimately on our own? This question is particularly poignant in light of suffering. It seems like you can’t think about suffering without thinking about God, and God’s relationship to suffering. Does God cause it, allow it, use it, or endure it like we do? Does God care? Does God exist?
And it is precisely at this point—this poignantly human plea to be known, cared for, to be shown some mercy and kindness -- that the Gospel of Jesus Christ makes a provocative assertion—about God and about us. “We proclaim Christ crucified,” Paul put it.
In his letter to the church in Corinth, Paul almost playfully describes it as foolishness, unapologetic about the crucified Christ’s contrast to the many sophist alternatives of his day. The Greek culture in which Paul and the early Christian church lived had no objection to the notion of monotheism. Plato taught that goodness was one—that there was one absolute good, one god. The Greeks rather liked the idea. Their philosophers reasoned that if god was one, god must be perfect. God must need nothing. God must want nothing. It’s very logical. There is even a word for it in Greek—apatheia—from which we get the word apathy. It means the absolute, metaphysical perfection of God.
But Paul said, “We preach Christ crucified,” utter foolishness to Greek thinkers who want a god of perfection, a god who transcends human life, its messiness, its pain and suffering, and also its passion and ecstasy.
“For the message about the cross is foolishness . . . a stumbling block. . . .but God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” Christian faith is about a God who is not perfect in the Greek philosophic sense of the word, but a God who has wants and desires, a God who laughs and weeps, who rejoices and grieves, a God capable of anger and remorse and profound love, a God who, because of love, suffers.
So when we talk about suffering and God, we begin with this God, a God who experiences suffering for the sake of love; a God who is vulnerable; a God, who in every way, became one of us; a God who did not count equality with God as something to be used to his own advantage but taking on human form suffered and loved like every other human.
Christian faith makes the radical proposal that the goal of life is not to protect ourselves from suffering, but to make ourselves vulnerable, to expose ourselves to suffering for the sake of love. The goal is not, that is to say, to save our lives, but to find some way to give them away. The claim is that the cross is more than a symbol of tragedy but, because it is God’s own son on the cross, it is supremely, mysteriously, but profoundly a symbol of love.
Foolishness—God’s love—wiser than human wisdom—weakness stronger than human strength.
A number of years ago I ventured out to see the play Shadowlands by William Nicholson. It’s about C.S. Lewis’ relationship with Joy Davidson, one of his avid followers. They became friends, as up to that point Lewis was a life-long confirmed bachelor. He married Davidson in order to satisfy immigration regulations, as a favor, although they remained merely friends. Then Joy Davidson became ill and that’s when Lewis realized he was in love. So he married her a second time, this time in the hospital. They had a short time together and then her cancer returned and she died.
In the play he asks: “If God loves us, why does He allow us to suffer so much? ...What possible point can there be to such tragedy? Isn’t God supposed to be good?”
A clergy friend tries to comfort Lewis. “We have to have faith that God knows.” Lewis responds, “God knows. Yes, God knows. I don’t doubt that. But does God care? Did God care about Joy?”
It’s the ultimate human question. Does God care about us and our loved ones? Is God invested in what happens to us as we journey through this world or are we ultimately on our own? This question is particularly poignant in light of suffering. It seems like you can’t think about suffering without thinking about God, and God’s relationship to suffering. Does God cause it, allow it, use it, or endure it like we do? Does God care? Does God exist?
And it is precisely at this point—this poignantly human plea to be known, cared for, to be shown some mercy and kindness -- that the Gospel of Jesus Christ makes a provocative assertion—about God and about us. “We proclaim Christ crucified,” Paul put it.
In his letter to the church in Corinth, Paul almost playfully describes it as foolishness, unapologetic about the crucified Christ’s contrast to the many sophist alternatives of his day. The Greek culture in which Paul and the early Christian church lived had no objection to the notion of monotheism. Plato taught that goodness was one—that there was one absolute good, one god. The Greeks rather liked the idea. Their philosophers reasoned that if god was one, god must be perfect. God must need nothing. God must want nothing. It’s very logical. There is even a word for it in Greek—apatheia—from which we get the word apathy. It means the absolute, metaphysical perfection of God.
But Paul said, “We preach Christ crucified,” utter foolishness to Greek thinkers who want a god of perfection, a god who transcends human life, its messiness, its pain and suffering, and also its passion and ecstasy.
“For the message about the cross is foolishness . . . a stumbling block. . . .but God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” Christian faith is about a God who is not perfect in the Greek philosophic sense of the word, but a God who has wants and desires, a God who laughs and weeps, who rejoices and grieves, a God capable of anger and remorse and profound love, a God who, because of love, suffers.
So when we talk about suffering and God, we begin with this God, a God who experiences suffering for the sake of love; a God who is vulnerable; a God, who in every way, became one of us; a God who did not count equality with God as something to be used to his own advantage but taking on human form suffered and loved like every other human.
Christian faith makes the radical proposal that the goal of life is not to protect ourselves from suffering, but to make ourselves vulnerable, to expose ourselves to suffering for the sake of love. The goal is not, that is to say, to save our lives, but to find some way to give them away. The claim is that the cross is more than a symbol of tragedy but, because it is God’s own son on the cross, it is supremely, mysteriously, but profoundly a symbol of love.
Foolishness—God’s love—wiser than human wisdom—weakness stronger than human strength.
Friday, April 3, 2015
Life Goes On
by: Julia TenBroeck
“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Jesus our Lord.”- Romans 8: 38-39
I was at the kitchen sink the day before Easter last year, wondering if we should have followed through with plans to go to the mountains, when the phone rang with a strange number. It was a friend of one of my best friends, Susan. “Is this Julia? Susan’s husband took his life this morning. She found him a few hours ago. Are you in the mountains? Susan said she thought you were out of town, but I thought we should call anyway.” No, we didn’t end up going to the mountains. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.
Oh that day. We all hung on and cried into the bleakness of those hours that would not end. We tried to answer the why question and couldn’t. I knew God was with us, abiding with us in the darkness. I almost didn’t want Him to be. I didn’t want to be reminded of our vulnerability - of mortality. If this could happen to a friend, what could happen to me? I pray for a shield around those I love, and doubt God when bad things happen - A very simplistic faith that my mind struggles to elevate. Yet in the end, it’s never my mind that brings me back to God.
Some of us like to move through difficult periods as quickly as possible. Move towards the light, always. We forget that if we are only searching for the light, we are unlikely to sense God in the darkness. And if we don’t want to sense Him in the darkness… He is there anyway. David wrote "…Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there…If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light will become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is light to you.” -Psalm 139: 7-8, 11-12
I had to rest through my fears, knowing God was with me even if I wanted to shut Him out - Trusting that He would still be there when I was ready. Interestingly, many hymns are written as us singing to God. But there is one in which God sings to us. How Firm a Foundation, written by Robert Keen. …The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, I will not, I cannot desert to His foes. That soul though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no never, no never forsake! We hold God’s spirit inside us as a promise that there is more than what we hear, smell, see. The substance of God never changes. The form through which we experience Him does change, along with our circumstances. We might experience Him breathing us through a bottomless grief. We might experience Him in the faces of family and friends at a table of celebration. But we have His promise that He is with us. His love is unchanging, despite the limitations of our human perceptions.
I think of last Easter through the words of John Donne, a 17th century poet. Death be Not Proud. Isn’t that it? Watching Susan approach her days with hope and resolve showed me that life goes on. What a beautiful cliché. We go along with it too, and some days our fears can regress and we can face the sun. Life goes on - God’s great gift to us.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Memory
by: Jessica Patchett
The older I get (and, I know, I’m not very old), the more I value memory. I can remember a time when things were different than they are now. I can remember people who aren’t around anymore. I’ve visited countries that have preserved the relics of people and times that no one has seen for millennia.
On a recent trip, a guide introduced me to an elderly farmer and fisherman, whom, my guide said, was famous among his neighbors. They could remember when he and his father had engineered a way to catch, clean, and preserve enormous sharks during a famine that had threatened to starve them all.
This fisherman had inherited a large family farm and a shoreline that welcomed the miraculously measured tides of the ocean. In the shadow of a steep, green mountain, the farmer’s home was a treasure. But, the elderly man said that the most valuable thing he inherited was not the lush farmland or ocean-front property, but the little chapel that sat in a lonely field, where sheep safely grazed. When his father gave him full ownership of the farm, he also gave him full responsibility for ensuring that the land where the chapel sat continued to serve as sacred ground as long as he was alive and into the next generation.
The farmer said that the little white chapel was an active church – a parish of four, he said – me, my wife, my son, and my dog. A few times a year, a priest visits. On occasion, the farmer allows tourists to return to the chapel and be married there. Many visit and are amazed by what they find inside, and I am no exception, but that’s another story for another time. The foundation and some things in the chapel are relics of the 1600’s. The farmer claims there has been a Christian church on that site for more like 1000 years, when the people of Iceland were first exposed to the Christian faith and told the stories of Jesus.
Inside the chapel, the farmer stood in front of the communion table and interpreted what he saw in the painting that hung above it. I couldn’t understand the words he was saying, but his actions told a story I knew well.
He took bread and broke it. He took a pitcher and poured glasses. He motioned to the people around him, ‘Eat. Drink. All of you’. They ate and drank. And then, their eyes were opened and they recognized him.
Then, the farmer said, in English, ‘The gospel of Jesus’. And I said, ‘Amen. Thank you for continuing to tell the story ’. The farmer replied (and I listened, with my guide translating), ‘The story is what makes this place sacred. It is why people come here and say, ‘God’s presence is in this place’. It is why they remember this place and want to return’.
Through centuries, in seasons of struggle and hope, people have remembered and retold this story and their eyes have been open to God’s very presence among them. May it be so for us as well.
The older I get (and, I know, I’m not very old), the more I value memory. I can remember a time when things were different than they are now. I can remember people who aren’t around anymore. I’ve visited countries that have preserved the relics of people and times that no one has seen for millennia.
On a recent trip, a guide introduced me to an elderly farmer and fisherman, whom, my guide said, was famous among his neighbors. They could remember when he and his father had engineered a way to catch, clean, and preserve enormous sharks during a famine that had threatened to starve them all.
This fisherman had inherited a large family farm and a shoreline that welcomed the miraculously measured tides of the ocean. In the shadow of a steep, green mountain, the farmer’s home was a treasure. But, the elderly man said that the most valuable thing he inherited was not the lush farmland or ocean-front property, but the little chapel that sat in a lonely field, where sheep safely grazed. When his father gave him full ownership of the farm, he also gave him full responsibility for ensuring that the land where the chapel sat continued to serve as sacred ground as long as he was alive and into the next generation.
The farmer said that the little white chapel was an active church – a parish of four, he said – me, my wife, my son, and my dog. A few times a year, a priest visits. On occasion, the farmer allows tourists to return to the chapel and be married there. Many visit and are amazed by what they find inside, and I am no exception, but that’s another story for another time. The foundation and some things in the chapel are relics of the 1600’s. The farmer claims there has been a Christian church on that site for more like 1000 years, when the people of Iceland were first exposed to the Christian faith and told the stories of Jesus.
Inside the chapel, the farmer stood in front of the communion table and interpreted what he saw in the painting that hung above it. I couldn’t understand the words he was saying, but his actions told a story I knew well.
He took bread and broke it. He took a pitcher and poured glasses. He motioned to the people around him, ‘Eat. Drink. All of you’. They ate and drank. And then, their eyes were opened and they recognized him.
Then, the farmer said, in English, ‘The gospel of Jesus’. And I said, ‘Amen. Thank you for continuing to tell the story ’. The farmer replied (and I listened, with my guide translating), ‘The story is what makes this place sacred. It is why people come here and say, ‘God’s presence is in this place’. It is why they remember this place and want to return’.
Through centuries, in seasons of struggle and hope, people have remembered and retold this story and their eyes have been open to God’s very presence among them. May it be so for us as well.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Beholden to Her
by: Maddie Segal, Volunteer Coordinator at Friendship Trays
I was asked by Jessica to describe a most spiritual experience for me at a meeting of "none's." This was my story:
On the way to pick up my husband’s dry cleaning one day, I took a back road through a neighborhood. On this street I saw a dog eating what looks to be someones McDonald’s wrapper, in the middle of the road. I got out of my car, in order to shoo the dog out of the road so she wouldn't get hit. It was at this time that I could see up close that this poor girl was in horrible condition. Her nipples hung low from years of being someone’s breeding dog. Her skin had mange so bad there were huge sores covering her skinny/malnourished body; the only part on her that still had hair was her face and her upper shoulders where she couldn't scratch herself. She wore a dirty collar with what looked like a broken chain on it. She cowered low and just laid in the road when I approached. There was no way I was going to try to find her owner to return her, because I considered the amount of neglect this dog was shown to be outright abuse. I called Animal Control and the Humane Society. They were both closed to the public so I brought her home till I could figure out what to do with her.
My neighbor is a vet so I had him come over to take a look at her. He scanned her and walked her a little, listened to her heart and felt her stomach and chest area. He informed me that she had huge tumors in her nipples which were 90% sure to be cancerous considering the rest of her condition, she had the worst mange and flea problem he had ever seen, and she had end-stage heart-worms, which means she would die in weeks from something similar to congestive heart failure (you could hear her wheeze after taking only a few steps). He also showed me her teeth and revealed the fact that they had been worn almost down to the gum. He then told me, “there are only two reasons a dog would have teeth like this. Reason one, trying to chew off of the chain that she probably had been chained to for her entire life. And two from, eating rocks out of starvation.” He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I’m sorry. This dog is going to die very soon. Her best fate at this point would be getting put to sleep in a cozy room with nice people patting her.”
I asked my neighbor if I could take her to his office and pay him to do the humane thing and put her down. He said that would be illegal, as she is not my dog. He is only legally allowed to tell me to send her to Animal Control in the morning, but for the time being do NOT allow her near my other dogs for fear that she may have something they can catch.
So I did the only thing I could do. I bathed her. It was one of the most spiritual feelings I have ever felt. The look on her face as I put her in warm water with a mild soap and carefully ridded the fleas from her body was one of pure gratefulness. My dogs hate the bath, but this dog, you could tell, was enjoying EVERY second. She closed her eyes and pointed her head up to the ceiling. You could tell that she had never been touched like this by a human before.
After her bath I took her down to our basement and gave her warm bedding, fresh water, and food. “Only little bits of food at the time,” said the vet, “because you feed your dogs good food. It is too rich for her. She hasn't eaten probably in days. She will vomit.” He was right. She threw up each time she ate. But I kept giving her little bits and cleaning it up. It was a joy to watch her eat. And the bedding. My gosh. She kept laying in it then getting up and looking at me, as if to say, “for me? for real? a bed?”
I couldn't leave her down in the dark basement alone and she kept scratching. So I went and got some ointment for sores and went and sat in the bed with her. She curled up and put her head in my lap while I rubbed the cream all over her. At that moment I began to cry, knowing that tomorrow I was taking this girl to Animal Control, and ultimately to her death. But I felt such a strong spiritual connection to this little creature, all while she was drinking in every second of love that I could give her. It was gratitude on a level that I have never seen before. But I am the one who is beholden to her, for giving me those beautiful hours.
She is dead now. Animal control put her down immediately after the 3 day obligatory waiting period (time for owners to claim lost pets). Their diagnosis was the same as my vet’s. Weeks to live, then a painful death. I didn’t do much for that animal, but I did all I could do. I suffered with her, but not in the same way as her. I wish I could have taken on more of her suffering. I really do.
On the way to pick up my husband’s dry cleaning one day, I took a back road through a neighborhood. On this street I saw a dog eating what looks to be someones McDonald’s wrapper, in the middle of the road. I got out of my car, in order to shoo the dog out of the road so she wouldn't get hit. It was at this time that I could see up close that this poor girl was in horrible condition. Her nipples hung low from years of being someone’s breeding dog. Her skin had mange so bad there were huge sores covering her skinny/malnourished body; the only part on her that still had hair was her face and her upper shoulders where she couldn't scratch herself. She wore a dirty collar with what looked like a broken chain on it. She cowered low and just laid in the road when I approached. There was no way I was going to try to find her owner to return her, because I considered the amount of neglect this dog was shown to be outright abuse. I called Animal Control and the Humane Society. They were both closed to the public so I brought her home till I could figure out what to do with her.
My neighbor is a vet so I had him come over to take a look at her. He scanned her and walked her a little, listened to her heart and felt her stomach and chest area. He informed me that she had huge tumors in her nipples which were 90% sure to be cancerous considering the rest of her condition, she had the worst mange and flea problem he had ever seen, and she had end-stage heart-worms, which means she would die in weeks from something similar to congestive heart failure (you could hear her wheeze after taking only a few steps). He also showed me her teeth and revealed the fact that they had been worn almost down to the gum. He then told me, “there are only two reasons a dog would have teeth like this. Reason one, trying to chew off of the chain that she probably had been chained to for her entire life. And two from, eating rocks out of starvation.” He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I’m sorry. This dog is going to die very soon. Her best fate at this point would be getting put to sleep in a cozy room with nice people patting her.”
I asked my neighbor if I could take her to his office and pay him to do the humane thing and put her down. He said that would be illegal, as she is not my dog. He is only legally allowed to tell me to send her to Animal Control in the morning, but for the time being do NOT allow her near my other dogs for fear that she may have something they can catch.
So I did the only thing I could do. I bathed her. It was one of the most spiritual feelings I have ever felt. The look on her face as I put her in warm water with a mild soap and carefully ridded the fleas from her body was one of pure gratefulness. My dogs hate the bath, but this dog, you could tell, was enjoying EVERY second. She closed her eyes and pointed her head up to the ceiling. You could tell that she had never been touched like this by a human before.
After her bath I took her down to our basement and gave her warm bedding, fresh water, and food. “Only little bits of food at the time,” said the vet, “because you feed your dogs good food. It is too rich for her. She hasn't eaten probably in days. She will vomit.” He was right. She threw up each time she ate. But I kept giving her little bits and cleaning it up. It was a joy to watch her eat. And the bedding. My gosh. She kept laying in it then getting up and looking at me, as if to say, “for me? for real? a bed?”
I couldn't leave her down in the dark basement alone and she kept scratching. So I went and got some ointment for sores and went and sat in the bed with her. She curled up and put her head in my lap while I rubbed the cream all over her. At that moment I began to cry, knowing that tomorrow I was taking this girl to Animal Control, and ultimately to her death. But I felt such a strong spiritual connection to this little creature, all while she was drinking in every second of love that I could give her. It was gratitude on a level that I have never seen before. But I am the one who is beholden to her, for giving me those beautiful hours.
She is dead now. Animal control put her down immediately after the 3 day obligatory waiting period (time for owners to claim lost pets). Their diagnosis was the same as my vet’s. Weeks to live, then a painful death. I didn’t do much for that animal, but I did all I could do. I suffered with her, but not in the same way as her. I wish I could have taken on more of her suffering. I really do.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Searching for Peace
by: A Covenant Member
As we are in the season of Lent, I contemplate on the possibility of world peace. I wonder how I would feel if this could become a reality. It didn’t take me long to realize that there are too many factors to comprehend, (including a variety of cultures, languages, religions, and economies in the world), that prevent or prohibit the possibility of world peace. Wouldn’t it be great if world peace were a possibility? We wouldn’t have to be concerned about terrorists or wars, as we do today. If world peace were a possibility, would we then have a perfect society or would we get bored with world peace? This problem is best left for the United Nations, whose purpose includes “building lasting peace in war-torn societies, conflict prevention, and laying the foundations for sustainable peace and development (United Nations Global Issues).”
We may not have the answers necessary for world peace, but we can begin by searching for inner peace; then, peace in our communities, and peace in our nation. Wikipedia defines peace as tranquility, calm, quiet, order, and freedom from fear and violence. Inner peace is defined as a state of being mentally and spiritually at peace, with enough knowledge and understanding to keep oneself strong in the face of discord or stress. Mahatma Gandhi once said “Nobody can hurt me without my permission.”
From “HuffPost Healthy Living,” (February 20, 2015), Laurie Seymour made the following suggestions for gaining inner peace: allow time for uninterrupted silence (dedicate some time with yourself each day); notice what tone you use with others when speaking; notice how your body feels in different situations throughout the day; if your day does not seem effortless, determine what was in the way; pay attention to random thoughts (Ask questions about what you notice); and finally, “Use writing as a way of dialoging with your inner self . Ask questions, write down the answers and read them aloud. Do the answers feel true? If not, begin again. Relaxation is the key.”
From the article, “Find Inner Peace in 10 Ways,” the following suggestions were made:
Peace in our communities There are several suggestions or recommendations for generating peace in our communities. They include engaging in productive conversations with others, in order to build understanding and connections between people with diverse perspectives. I recall an article I read in which someone named Morgan stated that “Only when humans learn to live in harmony with their environment and each other that the principles of nonviolence can be activated in a very real way. In such an environment, killing becomes unthinkable,
Peace in our country From YouTube, listen to Frank Stallone’s rendition of “Peace in our Life.” It includes these words: “The strength of our nation belongs to us all.” The key factors for creating peace on the national level, as identified by Pillars of Peace (Understanding the Key Attitudes and Institutions That Underpin Peaceful Societies) are: A well functioning government, sound business environment, equitable distribution of resources, acceptance of the rights of others, good relations with neighbors, free flow of information, high levels of human capital, and low levels of corruption.
One popular biblical scripture on peace include the following: John 14:27-“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” In contrast, Craig Patterson expresses his feelings about peace this way: “co-existence or no existence.” Another point of view by Maikul Aurelius is this: “People are never content with peace. They demand more and more until there is no more; then, they fight over something else.”
Chris Maser summarizes peace best for me by stating: “Peace is an inner state that can be reflected outwardly. As communities become more peaceful, cities and states become more peaceful. As cities and states become more peaceful, nations become more peaceful. It all begins with our search for inner peace, one person at a time. It is wise, therefore, to be mindful that the kind of world our children inherit will depend on the thoughts we entertain and the actions we commit, both secretly and publicly, in the process of living our everyday lives.”
As we are in the season of Lent, I contemplate on the possibility of world peace. I wonder how I would feel if this could become a reality. It didn’t take me long to realize that there are too many factors to comprehend, (including a variety of cultures, languages, religions, and economies in the world), that prevent or prohibit the possibility of world peace. Wouldn’t it be great if world peace were a possibility? We wouldn’t have to be concerned about terrorists or wars, as we do today. If world peace were a possibility, would we then have a perfect society or would we get bored with world peace? This problem is best left for the United Nations, whose purpose includes “building lasting peace in war-torn societies, conflict prevention, and laying the foundations for sustainable peace and development (United Nations Global Issues).”
We may not have the answers necessary for world peace, but we can begin by searching for inner peace; then, peace in our communities, and peace in our nation. Wikipedia defines peace as tranquility, calm, quiet, order, and freedom from fear and violence. Inner peace is defined as a state of being mentally and spiritually at peace, with enough knowledge and understanding to keep oneself strong in the face of discord or stress. Mahatma Gandhi once said “Nobody can hurt me without my permission.”
From “HuffPost Healthy Living,” (February 20, 2015), Laurie Seymour made the following suggestions for gaining inner peace: allow time for uninterrupted silence (dedicate some time with yourself each day); notice what tone you use with others when speaking; notice how your body feels in different situations throughout the day; if your day does not seem effortless, determine what was in the way; pay attention to random thoughts (Ask questions about what you notice); and finally, “Use writing as a way of dialoging with your inner self . Ask questions, write down the answers and read them aloud. Do the answers feel true? If not, begin again. Relaxation is the key.”
From the article, “Find Inner Peace in 10 Ways,” the following suggestions were made:
- Accept what is - There is only so much we can affect. Start accepting what you cannot change;
- Meditate - It can help you find peace;
- Spend time in Nature - Just enjoy the sights, the sounds and the peace;
- Learn the power of a smile - Peace finds itself more easily when you smile;
- Think outwardly - Look beyond your own problems;
- Care about others - There is peace and wisdom in thinking and caring about other people;
- Never lose hope - With hope, you always have a path towards peace;
- Embrace your beliefs - Be within your faith 100%, and peace will find its way into your heart;
- Keep learning - Accept that life is one big journey of never-ending learning, and you will find yourself closer to experiencing true peace within yourself.; and
- Live in the present moment - Stop thinking about the past and any potential future. Another way we can begin to search for inner peace is by listening to uplifting stories. These types of stories inspire positive action, and reminds us that we are not struggling alone.
Peace in our communities There are several suggestions or recommendations for generating peace in our communities. They include engaging in productive conversations with others, in order to build understanding and connections between people with diverse perspectives. I recall an article I read in which someone named Morgan stated that “Only when humans learn to live in harmony with their environment and each other that the principles of nonviolence can be activated in a very real way. In such an environment, killing becomes unthinkable,
Peace in our country From YouTube, listen to Frank Stallone’s rendition of “Peace in our Life.” It includes these words: “The strength of our nation belongs to us all.” The key factors for creating peace on the national level, as identified by Pillars of Peace (Understanding the Key Attitudes and Institutions That Underpin Peaceful Societies) are: A well functioning government, sound business environment, equitable distribution of resources, acceptance of the rights of others, good relations with neighbors, free flow of information, high levels of human capital, and low levels of corruption.
One popular biblical scripture on peace include the following: John 14:27-“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” In contrast, Craig Patterson expresses his feelings about peace this way: “co-existence or no existence.” Another point of view by Maikul Aurelius is this: “People are never content with peace. They demand more and more until there is no more; then, they fight over something else.”
Chris Maser summarizes peace best for me by stating: “Peace is an inner state that can be reflected outwardly. As communities become more peaceful, cities and states become more peaceful. As cities and states become more peaceful, nations become more peaceful. It all begins with our search for inner peace, one person at a time. It is wise, therefore, to be mindful that the kind of world our children inherit will depend on the thoughts we entertain and the actions we commit, both secretly and publicly, in the process of living our everyday lives.”
Monday, March 30, 2015
Dad, We Made It Didn’t We?
by: Robert B. Taylor, Jr. (Father of Covenant member Joe Taylor)
My wife Becky and I learned Bobby was gay when he was a freshman in college. It was a devastating time for us. Like all parents, we wanted the best for our children. The world I knew was not going to be easy for my son. Bobby knew this, too, but that fact could not alter his sexuality. He did not have a decision to make about being gay. I prayed daily for God to change Bobby, to “cure” him of his homosexuality.
There is no question in my mind or his mother’s, that Bobby was gay from birth, though we did not discuss it. I don’t know why we didn’t. Discussing prayers with our partners is healthy for our faith. It provides a sounding board to help understand prayers that don’t seem to be answered rather than run the risk of seemingly unanswered prayers compromising our faith. Ironically, faith doesn’t seem to be “most important” when life is moving smoothly, however it is the difference in how we move through the difficult times and how we appreciate the high times. Faith gives a dimension to our lives that simply can’t be achieved without it.
Bobby left home after college to live in New York where he felt he would find acceptance. Over time, God helped me to realize it was I, not Bobby, who needed to change. Bobby had much to feel good about. My ignorance prevented me from providing him with the emotional support he needed, I was too focused on his homosexuality. I am thankful Bobby never gave up on me and that God allowed me to understand my prejudice and not be blinded by it.
Bobby tested positive for the HIV virus in 1988. At the time, testing positive for HIV was mostly a death sentence. My prayers changed overnight. I still asked God to “cure” Bobby, but my perspective and focus now were on Bobby’s health, not his homosexuality. This allowed me to see the rest of my son’s life more fully.
He was a Deacon in at his Presbyterian Church. Through his Church he helped start the Manhattan Center for Living, a program that tended to the non-medical needs of those suffering life-threatening illnesses. Along with others, he founded Miracle House, a residential facility providing affordable housing for families visiting their ill loved ones in New York City. I could see that Bobby was enjoying his work and life. He was a contributing person of value to those around him.
In early 1996 Bobby developed an associated cancer in his lungs and began chemotherapy, which eventually took a toll on his already compromised immune system. His health declined and I prayed with even more determination though I still had not put Bobby fully in God’s hands.
Eventually, I knew I had to give my son’s health fully over to God, and mean it. It was a rather simple prayer, “God, take care of Bobby and let him feel your presence and your love”, but oh how hard it was to say. I knew God had the power to make him well, how tempting it was to make that my prayer. All my instincts told me to fight God for my son’s life. Yet somehow I knew I had to leave that to God; so I did, and I asked God to help my family deal with whatever we faced. I don’t think I could have done this without my deep love for my son and my faith in God’s love. If God loved Bobby, and I knew that He did, then I didn’t have to worry about him or his health.
Our family spent most of our time with him as he continued to be in and out of the hospital. Eventually, together with his doctor, he decided to discontinue medication. Bobby’s doctor promised not to let him suffer. He did this though, in a way that attempted to take this out of God’s hands. God stepped in! From that point on, this was very much God’s show! We would see and feel God’s arms around all of us in the days ahead.
Bobby spent another four weeks in the hospital before flying home to North Carolina in August, 1996. He was alert and interested in all around him. He interacted with friends and associates and we shared more memories that I will treasure forever. Even in his illness he had a presence about him in the way he talked to people and thanked them. He made them feel special and let them know he appreciated them. It was very sincere. I had never taken note of this in my son before and it made me proud. This could not have happened if God had not intervened in my son’s care.
A former minister of ours wrote us after Bobby’s death and said “God understands.” Bobby was gay, but being gay was not what Bobby was about. He was about enjoying the life God gave him, seeking God’s will for him, and trying to use the opportunities that he saw to make a difference where he could, really no different than what we all would like to be about. God’s answer to my prayer was clear. “This is my child and I love him. I want you to see him as I do, and I will give you time to do so as I prepare him to come live with me.” That was a meaningful time for our entire family. A gift from God that gave us a more full understanding and underlined the memories of the life of a precious son and brother.
The night before he died, Bobby, out of the blue, said, “Dad, we made it didn’t we?” “Yes, we did,” I replied. “I loved you enough to hang in there with you.” Then he said something that took me completely by surprise. Here I was taking the credit for “hanging in there.” Bobby held up a finger, looked me in the eye, and said, “And I loved you enough not to run.”
What a gift he had given me, what a gift God had given us.
GOD’S GREATEST GIFT IS THE GIFT OF LOVE!
My wife Becky and I learned Bobby was gay when he was a freshman in college. It was a devastating time for us. Like all parents, we wanted the best for our children. The world I knew was not going to be easy for my son. Bobby knew this, too, but that fact could not alter his sexuality. He did not have a decision to make about being gay. I prayed daily for God to change Bobby, to “cure” him of his homosexuality.
There is no question in my mind or his mother’s, that Bobby was gay from birth, though we did not discuss it. I don’t know why we didn’t. Discussing prayers with our partners is healthy for our faith. It provides a sounding board to help understand prayers that don’t seem to be answered rather than run the risk of seemingly unanswered prayers compromising our faith. Ironically, faith doesn’t seem to be “most important” when life is moving smoothly, however it is the difference in how we move through the difficult times and how we appreciate the high times. Faith gives a dimension to our lives that simply can’t be achieved without it.
Bobby left home after college to live in New York where he felt he would find acceptance. Over time, God helped me to realize it was I, not Bobby, who needed to change. Bobby had much to feel good about. My ignorance prevented me from providing him with the emotional support he needed, I was too focused on his homosexuality. I am thankful Bobby never gave up on me and that God allowed me to understand my prejudice and not be blinded by it.
Bobby tested positive for the HIV virus in 1988. At the time, testing positive for HIV was mostly a death sentence. My prayers changed overnight. I still asked God to “cure” Bobby, but my perspective and focus now were on Bobby’s health, not his homosexuality. This allowed me to see the rest of my son’s life more fully.
He was a Deacon in at his Presbyterian Church. Through his Church he helped start the Manhattan Center for Living, a program that tended to the non-medical needs of those suffering life-threatening illnesses. Along with others, he founded Miracle House, a residential facility providing affordable housing for families visiting their ill loved ones in New York City. I could see that Bobby was enjoying his work and life. He was a contributing person of value to those around him.
In early 1996 Bobby developed an associated cancer in his lungs and began chemotherapy, which eventually took a toll on his already compromised immune system. His health declined and I prayed with even more determination though I still had not put Bobby fully in God’s hands.
Eventually, I knew I had to give my son’s health fully over to God, and mean it. It was a rather simple prayer, “God, take care of Bobby and let him feel your presence and your love”, but oh how hard it was to say. I knew God had the power to make him well, how tempting it was to make that my prayer. All my instincts told me to fight God for my son’s life. Yet somehow I knew I had to leave that to God; so I did, and I asked God to help my family deal with whatever we faced. I don’t think I could have done this without my deep love for my son and my faith in God’s love. If God loved Bobby, and I knew that He did, then I didn’t have to worry about him or his health.
Our family spent most of our time with him as he continued to be in and out of the hospital. Eventually, together with his doctor, he decided to discontinue medication. Bobby’s doctor promised not to let him suffer. He did this though, in a way that attempted to take this out of God’s hands. God stepped in! From that point on, this was very much God’s show! We would see and feel God’s arms around all of us in the days ahead.
Bobby spent another four weeks in the hospital before flying home to North Carolina in August, 1996. He was alert and interested in all around him. He interacted with friends and associates and we shared more memories that I will treasure forever. Even in his illness he had a presence about him in the way he talked to people and thanked them. He made them feel special and let them know he appreciated them. It was very sincere. I had never taken note of this in my son before and it made me proud. This could not have happened if God had not intervened in my son’s care.
A former minister of ours wrote us after Bobby’s death and said “God understands.” Bobby was gay, but being gay was not what Bobby was about. He was about enjoying the life God gave him, seeking God’s will for him, and trying to use the opportunities that he saw to make a difference where he could, really no different than what we all would like to be about. God’s answer to my prayer was clear. “This is my child and I love him. I want you to see him as I do, and I will give you time to do so as I prepare him to come live with me.” That was a meaningful time for our entire family. A gift from God that gave us a more full understanding and underlined the memories of the life of a precious son and brother.
The night before he died, Bobby, out of the blue, said, “Dad, we made it didn’t we?” “Yes, we did,” I replied. “I loved you enough to hang in there with you.” Then he said something that took me completely by surprise. Here I was taking the credit for “hanging in there.” Bobby held up a finger, looked me in the eye, and said, “And I loved you enough not to run.”
What a gift he had given me, what a gift God had given us.
GOD’S GREATEST GIFT IS THE GIFT OF LOVE!
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