Montclair Presbyterian Church

Yesterday in church I preached my first sermon in 21 years on Original Sin.  The DOCTRINE of Original Sin.  I know, what possessed me?  Most of my colleagues were preaching about children and Jesus and I was obsessing about Original Sin.  What possessed me was that a woman asked me and some others from my congregation this question: “You’re not a church that’s going to try to save me are you?”  We all quickly assured her that we were not that kind of church.  But the question keeps nagging me.  If we aren’t that kind of church, what kind of church are we?  The more I pondered the question of salvation, the more I found myself wandering all the way back to Original Sin.  Honestly I don’t think I have spent much time over the years examining what I believe about Original Sin.

What I found myself worrying about as I was preparing the sermon is whether or not this particular doctrine would end up being the “crucial” card in a house of cards.  If we begin to question or change or refute the doctrine of Original Sin, would we be in danger of collapsing the whole theological house of Christianity?  Not at all cavalierly, I have decided the answer is “NO!”  While we may be in danger of dismantling a particular room in the house, we are not in danger of collapsing the house.

Honestly, I don’t believe that God created a perfect world – ever, anywhere.  Good?  Yes.  Perfect?  No.  I also don’t believe that because Eve and Adam ate a forbidden fruit that they then brought destruction upon all of us.  I don’t buy the idea that Adam’s seed turned bad and now we are all born with bad seed.  I have never understood the idea that Eve was the temptress.  Though I am not a fan of snakes, I think the serpent got a bad rap.  But mostly, I don’t believe God is a punishing God that in anger threw Adam and Eve out of the Garden.  I like some of the Jewish midrash around this story that says rather than being a story about sin and evil entering the world, it’s more likely a rite of passage story.  This could very well be the first story about leaving home and beginning one’s adult life!

While I could go on and on about the things I don’t believe about this story, it’s more difficult to articulate what I do believe.  One thing is for sure.  There are days when it seems as if evil is rampant and winning in the world.

And then I am reminded by Love to look up, look around and see the goodness that is in me and in those all around me.  There have been very few times in my life when I have looked for the goodness and just not seen it.  Usually when I look for the goodness in others I see it.  Maybe that’s the biggest problem I have with the doctrine of Original Sin.  If we look for what is wrong or spoiled or sinful or bad in others, we will surely see it.  Like in the Garden, the choice is ours…

When I was in college (a liberal arts Christian college, mind you) and then in seminary, it often seemed as if my entire faith was a bit like a house of cards.  As this professor or that professor would challenge the ideas and beliefs that I had innocently made my own because someone had taught them to me, there were times when I feared the whole house might tumble down.  As a result, I was reticent to begin tinkering with the individual cards.  Over time, though, as I have grown and matured and experienced God far more tangibly, I have removed certain cards from the house and have been pleasantly surprised that the house remains standing even though it looks different!

Lately I have been thinking about the doctrine of Original Sin.  In the past few months I baptized a baby and an adult at different times and I found myself feeling disturbed by the question I am supposed to ask about turning from evil.  This question is a hold-over from the doctrine of original sin.  Simply put, original sin is the idea that when Adam and Eve sinned in the garden their sin became the sin of every human.  St. Augustine took it even further and he said sin is transmitted through sexual intercourse and so every human is born sinful because of the transmission.  Sin is a disease in other words.

If every person is born fully sinful, you can see why there was a need for baptism and for salvation.  Jesus became the answer for what to do about all of humanity being under the curse of sin.  Jesus would die in order to take away the stain of original sin.  And so it goes.  The Catholic Church even decided over time that if babies who were born died without being baptized, they would not go to heaven.  Initially it was thought they would go to hell but too many people objected so eventually it was said they went to a baby limbo somewhere in between heaven and hell.

As a child and teenager, I bought the idea of original sin hook, line and sinker.  It explained the fact that no matter how hard I tried to be perfect, I just couldn’t sustain it for any length of time.  For years I have been wondering about the doctrine.  The appeal of original sin is that it explains why no person is perfect.  Not you, not me, not any person.  But what is perfection?  Who gets to define it?  And just because a person “sins” at one time or another, does that mean they are sinful?  How does living with this view of humanity and this view of God impact us over time?  On the one hand, we are created in the image of God and on the other hand we are born in sin and remain in sin until we are saved (except that the flaw in that line of thinking is that even after people are saved, they still sin…).  So what’s it all about anyway?

The doctrine of original sin is one of the bottom cards.  If we pull it out or tinker with it, what will happen to the rest of the house of Christianity?  I have decided to preach a sermon on it this coming Sunday so I hope to find out.  Is it a foundational card or has it been an extra all this time and we’ve just been too afraid to find out?  I’ll let you know next week!

Yesterday in the sermon I preached I told the congregation that I believe the church is in the language business.  We are learning and teaching and striving to live a language of faith.  The reason the church is in the language business is that living a life of faith is not something that comes naturally to us.  The language of faith is not our primary language.  It may seem that way to some, particularly those who have grown up in a church tradition and community.  The reality is that for those of us who have grown up in the United States, we have a primary language that is much more focused on self.  We are taught early on that our society values self-reliance, self-protection, self-reflection, self-sufficiency, self-motivation, self-made success, and self-care.  Many, if not most of us, are brought up speaking the language of power, position, prestige, prosperity, competition, and survival.  The language of faith is language of community over and above self, of collaboration rather than competition, and sharing over prosperity.  Truly, the language of faith is a foreign language for those of us who have been reared in this country.

If only it were as simple as learning and teaching and living a language.  The church universal and individual denominations are at war over the language of faith.  Words matter and there is deep and meaningful disagreement over words that describe God and Jesus and theology.  An example of what I am talking about is the word “salvation.”  Some churches and denominations consider this word to be central to their beliefs and identity and purpose.  In the United States, the churches who believe in the centrality of this word seem to interpret it as referring to individuals.  Are you saved?  Have you been saved?  The concept of individual salvation would have been foreign to Jesus.  Ironic isn’t it?

None of us should be surprised that the fight over the language of faith has shifted into the political arena.  Unfortunately, it just gets far more confusing because of all of the inconsistencies and accusations.  Think for a minute about what you have been hearing about self versus community.  About collaboration instead of competition, about sharing over individual prosperity.  Neither political party seems to have a thorough grasp of the language of faith and yet both use it when it suits a particular purpose.  As one who has studied the Bible a fair amount, I am not sure either political party understands how truly radical the gospel is and how cavalierly they choose to use it for their own purposes.  If the Democrats are serious about wanting to consider “the least of these” and have the community take care of it’s weakest and poorest members, they have a long way to go.  President Obama’s educational policy called “Race to the Top” was the antithesis of the idea that all should have access and all should be given opportunity.  If the Republicans are serious about “Family Values” and about morality, they need to examine their economic policies and read the Bible as though they were Pharisees to see what Jesus might say to them.  How exactly does excluding immigrants, LGBT people, and the poor  coincide with anything Jesus ever did or talked about directly?

No person and no community and no organization is perfect.  My own philosophy is that I would much rather spend my time with those who know they are imperfect than with those who are trying to act as if they know all and possess the ultimate truth. At least there is hope for change and improvement.  Regardless of who we are and which church (or not) we attend, we would do well to remember to watch our language.  Language matters.

One of my pastor friends has been at the same church for almost 20 years.  When he arrived at the church it was experiencing a slow decline.  You would never know when you walk through the doors today!  The church is alive with people of all ages, including the “missing generations” in most churches comprised of those in their 20’s and 30’s.  Not only do you see all ages in this church, you also see more ethnic diversity than in most Presbyterian churches as well as theological diversity.  Though my friend and his church are rarely spoken of and certainly not being written of in every church magazine as the lastest, greatest success story, they might just be one of the churches growing most quickly with younger members.  Perhaps the reason they have not been featured as a success story is that the pastor is gay and they warmly welcome into all aspects of their church life anyone who is gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender.  They are not identified primarily as a “gay church” (I have yet to figure out what that means), but experience lovely diversity of all kinds.

When I talked with my friend about how the turnaround happened and what has led to their exciting renewal of life and energy, he seemed fairly certain it had to do with the intentional substitution of one word for another.  He animatedly talks about how when he arrived at the church, they were stuck in their thinking.  The word “scarcity,” though rarely used, was at the heart of their thinking and acting.  They were focused on what they did not have and what they were slowly losing.  He decided he needed to help them refocus so he introduced the word “abundance” to them.  He began to point out all of the places and ways they were experiencing abundance.  Over time, they began to be less afraid, less cautious, and less stingy.  Over the years, they have been able to live into the abundance they now see and experience and they have learned beautifully how to share their abundance and invite others to participate in it.

Two little words, scarcity and abundance, have been at the heart of the transformation of an entire church.  Yes, I know, it’s as old as the hills, the idea that we live our lives looking at the glass half empty or the glass half full and which ever way we see it determines so much about us.  But, I find it compelling to hear the story of an entire group of people who, by shifting their focus with the help of their leader, have been transformed.

It’s too bad this great church has not been featured by the church magazines that love to write about church success stories.  It’s too bad the major newspapers don’t pick up their story.  They have something to say to all of us in the midst of this election season that on its best days is depressing and on its worst days signals the end life as we know it.  Imagine what would happen if the leaders of our country would shift the focus from scarcity and begin to focus on abundance.  Imagine!

At the very least, you and I can daily attempt to shift our own focus.  Most of us have not experienced the kind of scarcity that we fear so deeply.  Most of us worry so much about keeping hold of what we have that we have never been able to experience the abundance.  Do you want to join me in beginning to live from a place of abundance?  Are you ready to be transformed?

Graduation ceremonies began in mid-May and will continue through mid-June for a variety of schools across the nation.  Graduation is a time of transition.  It implies not just finishing with a grade or a whole level of study, but in most cases movement to a new institution or, in some cases, a whole new life.  By its very nature, graduation is a time of immense change.  While some people thrive on change, many people become very anxious in the face of change.  Have you ever thought about how and why people relate to change the way they do?

We have two daughters.  One is in many ways a typical older child and the other is in many ways a typical younger child.  Usually, the firstborn children are more into stability and control while the youngest born children are known for their adaptability, flexibility and for taking a much more winding path in life.  In the case of our two daughters, we have discovered that our firstborn is adventuresome, loves travel and deals well with change.  Our youngest born daughter is more of a home body, does not have a strong desire to travel and becomes very anxious in the face of change.

Where are you in the birth order of your family?  How do you find yourself responding or reacting to change?  Anyone who has ever been a part of a group or organization or community of some kind has experienced the various ways people relate to changes and transitions.  Oftentimes we find ourselves feeling tossed about by the impact others have on us when change is in the air.

Overall, I think I am someone who weathers change and transition fairly well.  While I don’t seek it for the sake of thrills (there are some people who thrive on the adrenaline that comes from complete upheaval), I think I do have the basic assumption that change is good and often leads to growth and new relationships and an expansion of one’s worldview.  Having walked with many people who do not feel the same way, I empathize  with those who do not adapt easily or quickly to new people or environments or experiences.

In the past couple of weeks I have wondered if how we relate to change and transition has something to do with our overall worldview.  Does it boil down to whether or not we see the glass as half empty or as half full?  Or is there something more complicated going on?  If we are optimists, are we better able to adapt to change?  If we are pessimists, are we less able to adapt to change?  That trail of thinking leads me to a connected trail which is to wonder how we become optimists or pessimists in the first place.  How is that parents who are optimists end up having children who are pessimists?  Surely you know some of those combinations.

One of our daughters tends toward pessimism and we have talked at great length with her about it.  She has said she thinks she is that way because of experiencing some deep disappointments when she was younger (wanting something she ended up not getting and being “promised” things that never materialized).  Her explanation of this is that now she prefers to think negatively about something and then be pleasantly surprised if it goes better than anticipated instead of thinking something will go well and then be disappointed.  We have explained on many an occasion that there is power in what she thinks and how she thinks in terms of the outcome and we have also pointed out that living in constant anticipation of disappointment may not be the most fun way to live life.

One of the best parts of making a transition is being able to choose what to leave behind and what to take with you on your new path.  My prayer for all who are graduating and making various kinds of transitions this year is that you will choose wisely what “baggage” you will leave behind and what you will take with you on your journey.

Every Wednesday I lead a Bible Study with a group of women (men are welcome but so far not many have attended) who range in age from 50 to 87.  We look at the text that I will preach for the upcoming Sunday.  Rather than prepare a “study,” I often ask questions of the text with them and then hear their responses.  There is a great deal of wisdom and life experience they have to offer and, like me, they are not afraid to challenge assumptions and old ways of thinking.  They come from diverse backgrounds and they represent diverse theologies.  Being with them is one of the highlights of my week!  Over time we have learned about each other’s lives and journeys.

Last week, one of the women in the group told us that her grandson had spent the night with her the previous weekend.  Her grandson, at 7 years old, is a faithful participant in our children’s program.  On the first Sunday of every month, we have our children stay in worship for what we call “Family Sunday.”  His grandmother said that before she put him to bed the night he stayed with her, he insisted they say their prayers.  She said he prayed for an older man in our congregation who had surgery recently and was still recovering.  She said that at the end of the prayers when she said “Amen” he insisted they had to say something else.  He insisted they say, “God in your mercy, you hear our prayers.”  She said that he told her it’s how we do our prayers in church so it’s how he wanted to do it with her.  She said he is very serious about his praying.

After the Bible Study I continued to think about how precious it is that this little boy is praying for people in the church, some of whom he does not know.  I decided to write him a note.  I told him that I had heard he was a good prayer and then I asked him if he would pray for my daughter who has to have her tonsils removed.  I told him she is scared and worried about how much it will hurt.  Two days later I received an email from him telling me that he prayed for her and he will pray for her again.  He wrote in his email that he is praying that it won’t hurt very much and that she won’t be too crabby!  In my note to him, I had mentioned that I hoped she wouldn’t be too crabby…In my position as a pastor, there is a great deal that moves me.  Having a 7 year old boy who is committed to praying for something that is of great concern to me is at the top of the list.  When I picture his face and knowing how serious he can be, I am deeply moved.

Over the years I have heard so many parents who don’t go to church say that they don’t want their kids to be brainwashed by religion and that’s why they don’t attend.  What I often say in the midst of those conversations is that my experience has been that many children are naturally curious about God and the world and people and love.  When you take them to church and encourage their involvement, you are teaching them a base language.  Their are many different languages spoken when it comes to God.  If children are not given any language, they are much less able as they get older to join in any of the conversations.  If you give them a language, you can count on the fact that that language will change and develop based on their context and culture and life experience.  I believe it is the responsibility of parents to equip children with the basic language.  Whether it’s Judaism or Christianity or Buddhism or Universalism is not nearly as important as simply learning the language in order to be able to engage in the conversation.  Obviously, I would encourage parents to find a faith community that is open, that allows for questioning and doubting, that allows for diversity of belief and experience, and that welcomes children without trying to imprint them with dogma.

By the time this little 7 year old boy becomes an adult, he will have forgotten all about me and about having prayed for my daughter.  But imprinted on his soul is the knowledge and experience that when he is worried about something or joyful about something, he can turn to God and express himself.  His prayers will undoubtedly change a great deal by the time he becomes a teenager and then an adult.  But he’ll understand that part of what it means to be the church is that we care about the things that concern others.  When the children stay in worship, even if only for one Sunday a month, they are learning far more than we realize.

What do you think of when you hear the word “integrity?”  Most people would say that having integrity is something they value in their lives and strive to attain.  At the most basic level, it seems integrity is akin to walking the talk.  One of the definitions of integrity has to do with being complete and undivided.  Though it may have something to do with inanimate objects (that wall has integrity), I think it also pertains to human beings.  Being undivided means you don’t say one thing and do another.  Being undivided means you have a whole self rather than parts that may or may not relate to each other.  Being undivided means you can be honest about who you are at all times because you have nothing to hide.

Integrity has been on my mind this week because tomorrow I have to go to a meeting of the Redwoods Presbytery to hear them verbally announce the decision of the General Assembly Permanent Judicial Commission against the Rev. Dr. Jane Spahr.  Janie, dear friend and prophetic colleague, was charged for having performed legal, same-sex marriages in the state of California, mine being one of them.  According to the highest court in the Presbyterian Church (USA), she violated the Book of Order (the church constitution and book of discipline) when she said “yes” to the myriad of couples who asked her to marry them legally.  The reason I have been thinking about integrity is because of what was said by the Redwoods Presbytery Permanent Judicial Commission who, as the first court to hear the case, recommended that Janie be found guilty and be given a rebuke.  This is what they said after they had made their decision “…The church’s policies are self-contradictory and ‘against the gospel.’”  They went on to affirm Janie’s call, her gifts and her ministry.

Where is the integrity in that action?  Their actions completely contradicted their words and they were divided.  They said one thing and did another.  As someone who sat in the room and heard them extol Janie and her ministry, I thought for sure they would clear her of the charges.  When they did the opposite, I was shocked.  How can any group of people so obviously speak out of one side of the mouth and act out of the other, let alone a group of people who were to rely on God for guidance and wisdom?

Anyone who knows me knows I have had a love/hate relationship with the Presbyterian Church (USA).  Sometimes I love the ideal of it more than the real.  This whole experience has been one of those times when I love what the church could stand for more than I love how it is living in the world today.  I am at the point with all of the issues related to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and questioning people and how they fit or don’t fit into the membership and leadership of the church, where I just want people to have integrity – be undivided – speak and act consistently.  Instead of hugging me and then standing up to talk about how I, as an out lesbian pastor, am dismantling the church and leading it away from Jesus Christ, I would rather have someone spit on me and then say those things.  That would feel consistent.  The spitting and the verbal violence at least go together.  What does not go together is the verbal violence and then the smiles and the pats on the back or the hugs or the feigned interest in conversation.

As always, I am reminded that as I point my finger outward, I must also consider how it points to me.  I, too, need to consider my own integrity.  Can I speak and act consistently within this church I call my home?  How am I contributing to the lack of integrity or to the church being divided in itself – saying one thing and living another?  Life is too short to pretend, to lie, to put on a false self, to be inconsistent and divided.  Let us all pray for ourselves and pray for the church as we try to live with integrity.

Some days I wonder about nature versus nurture.  Was I born a people pleaser or was there some aspect of the nurturing I received or didn’t receive that resulted in my wanting to please everyone in my life?

My parents were divorced when I was two and they both remarried within a year or two.  My siblings and I lived with our mom and step-dad, though we also visited our dad and step-mom with regularity.  Eventually, our dad and step-mom moved to New York City while we remained in Michigan and then moved to California.  There were five of us kids who were from that first marriage, two boys and three girls, and on rare occasions we went to visit our dad and step-mom all at the same time.

Real estate in Michigan was vastly different than real estate in New York City.  In Michigan we lived in a three story house that felt like a mansion.  The lawn in the front yard seemed to go on for acres though, when I visited as an adult, it was in reality not an overly large yard.  The feeling was one of vast space.  When we went to New York to visit our dad and step-mom, it felt like visiting another planet.  The people were strange, the buildings were strange, there were cars everywhere, noise that was constant, people in huge crowds, and heat or cold that was oppressive with not much in between.  They lived in a brownstone and I honestly don’t know how we all fit in it together.  Looking back, I understand why my step-mom kept us so busy during the day when my dad was at work!  We walked our legs off all over the city and there were times when it felt like forced marches.  My step-mom was wiser than I could have imagined at the time.  If we had not gotten out of the brownstone, one or more of us might not be living to tell about it today.  It took many years for me to feel comfortable in my skin in New York City.  Rather than absorbing the excitement, I found myself almost paralyzed by fear.  There were times when I thought I might drown in the lake of differences between me and every other person rushing around the City.  One such visit stands out in my mind.

On this particular visit, my dad and step-mom sat us all down at the beginning of the week and told us that they would need our utmost cooperation.  The space was small and we were loud and growing and often bumping into each other and not always accidentally.  They told us they had decided to offer a reward at the end of the week for the child who was most helpful to them.  This included helping with meals, doing dishes, cleaning up and getting along with the other kids.  The reward was going to be an entire box of chocolates.  As a seven year old, an entire box of chocolates sounded just like winning the lottery.  From the minute they dangled the reward in front of our faces, I was hooked.  Completely.  From deep inside of my soul, I wanted nothing more than to hear at the end of the week that I was the most helpful.  Determined, committed, persistent, driven, and discplined, I focused all of my hopes and energy on pleasing them the most.

Not once did I ever get a glimpse from any of my other siblings that they had their eye on the prize as well.  In fact, a couple of days into the week the squabbling began and fights bloomed and while I worried incessantly about not being the most pleasing, they seemed to have forgotten the contest.  Every meal I made sure I offered my help, in between meals I offered to join in cleaning up (not my favorite or best skill), and I did my level best to avoid being in the middle of any of the teasing or squabbling that went on steadily.  The big day finally arrived.  Our dad and step-mom sat us down together on the living room couch and after what I was sure was a drum roll (although possibly only in my head), they brought out the box of chocolates and announced that I was the winner!  YES!  I was declared the most helpful during the week-long visit.  In my mind, that translated to mean I was the most pleasing of all of the siblings.  The chocolates weren’t my favorite (I am not a fan of fruity stuff in the middle of chocolate), but who needed chocolate when the title of “Most Pleasing” had just been bestowed?  What I thought was going to be deep disappointment by all of my siblings who “lost”, was in fact what appeared to be indifference.  How could they not care that they had not been as pleasing to our parents?

And thus, the question of nurture versus nature.  Fortunately, after many years of therapy, spiritual seeking, spiritual direction, al-anon and just plain growing up, I think I have turned the corner of wanting to be the most pleasing.  At age 49 and holding, I can honestly say that my first priority is no longer to please people.  If my parents were to announce a similar contest today, my priority would be to enjoy them and enjoy the week while being myself.  If I felt helpful or wanted to be helpful, I would be and if I didn’t want to be, I would let someone else do the honors.  When we can finally get to that point in life where we are free to make choices and free to be ourselves, our relationships become mature relationships between adults rather than parent-child relationships.  Think of how many business relationships are built on the parent-child model where the child is supposed to please the parent at all costs.  What a hopeless cycle because those who insist on being pleased are the ones who are likely to never be pleased enough.  The only option for us pleasers is to get off of the treadmill and begin to live authentically.

A decade ago I was getting ready to turn 40 and I was enthusiastic about the prospect.  My thirties had been a roller coaster of experiences including some mountaintop moments and some deep valley moments.  When I was approaching 40, I felt strong and ready to roll.  For some odd reason I decided that I wanted to do my first-ever triathlon in celebration of my 40th birthday.  Maybe I felt as if it would be my last chance.  Maybe I wanted to prove I was physically as strong as I was when I turned 30.  Who knows what possessed me in the end!  My training was fairly low key and involved swimming, biking, weight training and indoor cardio training.  The triathlon was held in May of 2003 at Lake Berryessa in Northern California through an organization called “EnviroSports.”  As the date crawled slowly closer, I began feeling more and more nervous.  It didn’t help that I had heard the water in the Lake had not yet reached 60 degrees and many of the triathlon participants were opting for wetsuits.  How exactly does one swim in a wetsuit?  Swimming was the event that made me most panicky and I could not imagine trying to stay afloat while swimming in a wetsuit.  On the other hand, my family and friends will tell you I am always freezing and usually a shade of blue so you can imagine my concern about trying to swim while numb.  The day came and I did not drown and despite some horrible pain shooting down my left leg during the run (which in the end forced me to walk some of it), I managed to cross the finish line red-faced and relieved.

Last week I turned 49 and I am now on the journey toward 50.  How is it that another decade has almost passed?  After having done a triathlon to mark my 40th, I am stumped about how to mark my 50th.  While I still exercise somewhat regularly, my body is in a very different place now than it was in 2003.  For a minute I considered doing a marathon and then I felt so tired I had to lie down after just having the thought!  Perhaps a marathon is not how I will mark my 50th.  While I was walking this morning I thought about how much I ponder death and dying.  For someone as young as I am, I have spent the majority of my adult life so far in relationship with people who are dying.  As a pastor and then as a hospice chaplain, I have buried people who died too soon, who didn’t die soon enough and who died at what seemed like just the right time.  Part of my job for the past 25 years has been walking with people who are facing death at some point.  Is it any wonder I ponder it as much as I do?  Though I do not consider myself a morbid person, I cannot help but consider the impact this has had on my life.  While other people spend a great deal of time thinking about and saving money for the future, I have focused much more on the present.  While other people think about how they want to spend their time when they are retired, I have a difficult time imagining being alive long enough to retire.  While other people seem content with jobs that are less than tintillating, I want to love what I do because who knows what tomorrow will bring?

While other people think about fun celebrations for their 50th birthdays, I keep thinking about what would be the most meaningful way to mark what is at best the halfway point in life.  One of my favorite poets is Mary Oliver and one of my favorite poems of hers is “When Death Comes.” (New and Selected Poems, Volume 1, 1992).  In it she says, “When it’s over, I want to say:  all my life I was a bride married to amazement.  I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.  When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real.  I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument.  I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.” (pp.10-11)  If I could have, I would have written those words because that is how my life has been different than for many of my age.  Death is as real to me as life is and I want to make each day and each hour count in some way.

This year I feel as though I am walking on a road toward 50.  Most people who have turned 50 say it is one of the best years and decades they have had and often they talk about the freedom they experienced.  Please, God, may I have that same experience!  So far the walk has been a reality check.  Time is precious.  Our amazing and growing and beautiful daughters are beginning to make their more permanent separations from home.  When our 17 year old daughter asked me this year what I wanted for my birthday, I responded by saying, “From here on out, all I will ever want for my birthdays is time with you.”  Time is the one thing we can’t control or buy or slow down or pause.  “When it’s over, I want to know I have made of my life something particular and real.”  I am forever grateful to God for the privilege of walking with so many saints who have invited me to join them on their journeys and who have joined me on mine.  The future is now and time is today.  What will you make of it?

Yesterday in church one of the questions I raised in my sermon was what motivates people to be willing to sacrifice or change significant aspects of their lifestyles in order to  live more faithfully regarding a cause.  One of the stories I told was about an article I read in Sunset magazine within the past year about a family of four in Mill Valley who were no longer producing garbage.  They moved from a 3000 square foot home into a 1400 square foot home and kept only those things that they used and touched regularly.  They sold or gave away everything that wasn’t used regularly.  They each have a limited number of clothing items and shoes. What transfixed me about their story, however, was that they grocery shop in such a way that they do not buy food that comes in packages.  The mother goes to a bakery each week and buys several loaves of fresh bread and puts them into a pillow case and takes them home and puts them in the freezer.  Even that makes my head spin.

Taking the time to go to a separate bakery, having the forethought to take a pillow case along, being willing to freeze bread outside of a plastic bag, and doing it on a regular basis just blows me away.  Now you can see why I asked the question, “Don’t you wonder what motivates people to commit themselves to changing their lifestyles?  Don’t you wonder what motivates people to be willing to sacrifice for something about which they feel strongly?”  When you consider all of the causes and movements in the world that we hear about and then don’t do anything about, it is remarkable when something stops us in our tracks and we begin to change our lives.

During the Civil Rights Movement I was a young child so it has only been as I became an adult and learned a great deal more about what occurred that I have wondered what prompted certain people to stand arm in arm with those who were fighting for equality.  As a pastor, I am especially intrigued by how many clergy stood by and watched or refused to join in because they knew they might lose their jobs or even worse.  You cannot imagine how much time I have spent wondering if I would have been willing to put my life on the line for something in which I believe so deeply – the value of every human life equally.  When I think about that question I automatically bring myself into the present moment and wonder what deeply held convictions I carry and how much I am willing to sacrifice in order to be faithful to those convictions.

While you would never look at me and say I am a tree hugging nature loving earthy kind of person, I do hold a deep love for our planet and I feel great concern about the damage we are doing constantly.  Global warming is not a theory but a daily reality.  The problem is that we are all geared toward consumption and to alter our lives means HUGE changes.  If I feel so strongly about wanting to participate in the healing of our planet rather than its destruction, why have I not changed my lifestyle significantly?  Am I waiting for catastrophe?  Am I waiting until I absolutely have to?

Most of us who live in America and are middle to upper middle class live in homes that are far larger than our need.  We overconsume every possible resource.  Perhaps we get caught up in thinking that our individual lives don’t matter much in the big picture.  Last week I heard a story about when Reno, Nevada, was having a water shortage and they asked the inhabitants of the city to conserve water.  The residents did such a great job of conservation that the city then voted to build SIX new casinos.  The residents were so angry that they decided they would stop conserving water since in the end it produced such horrible results.  While I understand the emotion, I don’t understand the logic.  Water is scarce.  We all need to conserve.  The residents of Reno got swept up in a political battle that needs to be fought on a different level.

At the end of the day we have to ask ourselves whether we did the best we are able to do in each of the areas to which we are committed.  We really have no idea the impact we can make as one person or as one family until we do our very best.  Today is the first day of the rest of our lives in which we can commit to doing our very best.