“But We All Speak the Same Language, Don’t We???” Sermon for Creation Time based on Genesis 11:1-9, the story of language. Preached at Keswick-Ravenshoe Pastoral Charge September 13, 2015

 

 “Now the whole world had one language and a common speech. As the people moved eastward, they found a plain in Shinar and settled there. They said to each other, “Come, let’s make bricks and bake them thoroughly.” They used brick instead of stone, and tar for mortar. Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves and be famous; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth and be nothing.”

God came to see the city and the tower the people were building.  God said, “If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them. Come, let us go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other.” So God scattered them from there over all the earth, and they stopped building the city. That is why it was called Babel—because there God confused the language of the whole world. From there God scattered them over the face of the whole earth.” (Genesis 11:1-9)

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A while back, I got into a discussion with a colleague about the meaning of the word ‘eradicate’, in the context of diseases being eradicated. The contention was that once people had all been vaccinated, the diseases had been eradicated. I countered that since the diseases had returned when people stopped getting children vaccinated, the disease had not been eradicated at all.  The word ‘eradicate’ in its dictionary definition, means to remove so completely that it can never return. When something is eradicated, it is totally gone. So I argued that the removal of the human host from the process ensured the disease was not spread. Now, she and I are both educated people with a good grasp of our language; both speak English. Yet we have very different ideas and approaches.

Language is a funny thing. Even as it may change in our countries, it does not develop as quickly or in the same direction as it does in the parent countries.  American English, following its standardisation by Noah Webster,  became more phonetic – and it is the only version of English which did. As children growing up in Canada, we often joked that we spoke the Queen’s English, and Americans spoke American English. Yet that was also true.  Linguists will tell you that language in new countries tends to ‘ossify’ while language in the home country changes and evolves much more quickly.  My husband has now been out of Japan for forty-four years. When he goes back and is in conversation with younger people, he has been told that his language is quite “quaint”. He realised that it is still in some ways the language of his youth in post-war Japan.  He often complains that Japanese has changed so much, and as a linguist, he has found it necessary when he is back in Japan to try to bring his own language use up-to-date.

How we use a language, and how we understand a language, depends on so many factors. Where we were born, when we were born, where we went to school, how educated our parents were, how important education was, who our teachers were, how well we learned to read and how much we learned to read, whether or not we got advanced degrees in education, what the local dialects were, cultural and regional overlays, whether or not it is our native tongue.

Language involves absorbed and inherent understandings from within our family and social groups; nuances and local idioms are brought to bear. We can each use the same word, but depending on all those other accumulated factors we will understand it differently. Every single one of us understands and uses the same words differently. It isn’t possible to say “this is what this word *means*”, because each of us brings to bear all of the sum of who we are including our life experience to the words we use. That’s why when someone points to something in the Bible and says “This is why it means.” I have to say “But that may not be what it means at all.” Some of those words are translations of translations, and sometimes words which were made up because there was no corresponding word in the other language.

A friend of mine, a Presbyterian minister, was once called to minister to a Portuguese-speaking Presbyterian church. The logic of the Presbyterian national church was that since Portuguese was a common language to certain peoples, it made sense to have them all in one congregation. They didn’t realise that the Portuguese spoken in Mozambique, Brasil, Macao,  Angola, Goa, East Timor, Canada  and of course Portugal – are all different. Even if the words are the same, the acculturated and absorbed understanding of those words is different. Anyone who speaks French knows that what is spoken in Quebec is nothing like the French in France. 

Years ago, I remember seeing a movie in which the Greek gods were busy manipulating the lives of people. The people lived in a huge bowl-shaped earth – and the gods competed for their love and affection by causing deaths, destruction, wars, good things happening – love, affection, good fortune. It makes sense. Our scriptures tell us Greeks came to speak to Jesus, and the Gospel was taken into Greece, where there is no doubt in my mind the interpretation of faith was affected by the cultural and linguistic changes. – and indeed that happened in the translations from Hebrew to Greek. Those other cultural concepts found their way into our theologies.

In the 4^th and 5^th centuries Augustine of Hippo lived, wrote, and taught. He was and still is considered one of the greatest theologians. Among his teachings was that of salvation – that the number of saved by God’s grace was limited and predetermined, and if you weren’t on God’s list, you were doomed to eternal hell. Now, hell for the Jews was a state of being separated from God and in my mind that informed some of this theology. Yet there were those who argued against – those who asked why then bother doing good works, or going to confession and asking for penance and absolution; why enter religious orders and encourage others to good works? If the number of saved was limited, what was the point?

In the 12c, along came a philosopher, theologian and monk named Peter Abelard. At that time, the church believed that an infant was born into original sin, and if not baptised, would be forever damned. Abelard contended that children could not be born sinners, were in fact born in a state of grace, that baptism was in fact not necessary for them to be beloved of God  – but rather how they lived was most important. In the 12^th century, this was considered heresy, since it called Augustine’s teachings into question. Yet there were many who argued the same. There were those who did not believe in predetermined salvation. Abelard, it should be noted, was tried for heresy – something which was later reversed.

Fourteen years ago, on September 11^th,  two airplanes were hijacked, and hit the World Trade Centre twin towers. At that time we had no internet, no Facebook as we have now, but online chat groups and email groups. I was a member of a group called Organchat, a church musician’s discussion group. Someone on that group commented that the face of Satan could be seen in the smoke from the fires, and that Satan had caused this destruction. Then she went on to say that “God is in charge.” 

I rarely lose it. I don’t get wired up about a lot of stuff, but that struck at the core – for me – of the expressions of both language and theology. I said to her that if God was in charge, then God made Satan do those things, which meant really that God caused those events – and that if that were true, I did not believe in that God.  How often have we heard someone emerge from a horrific accident in which others were killed, and claim that God saved them, that God arbitrarily chose for some people to die, and others to live.

So, why am I going on about language and God? Because I think today, in the church, in The United Church of Canada, language is of critical importance. Consider this question “Do you believe in God? Yes or no?” For me that is not a “yes/no” question. There are as many concepts of God sitting here in this sanctuary as there are individuals, and every one of those concepts of God is valid for the person who believes it. For me rather than a ‘Yes/No’ question, it is more a ‘Yes…but….’ question.  Whose God, yours or mine. What God? Where? When? Why? How? And aren’t those the questions of faith? And aren’t we so limited in our understandings, by our language? What I say and you hear might be totally different altogether. Even if we speak the same language, we still don’t – and the possibilities for great misunderstandings arise. One person’s truth, one person’s expression of truth, is another’s heresy.

A friend of mine, Rev. Gretta Vosper, has been much in the media lately for identifying as an atheist – a non-theist. Gretta says, “I don’t believe in the god that you call God.” In other words, she does not believe in an arbitrary, interventionist, almighty manipulative God running human affairs both good and bad. That God removes free choice, and makes us puppets. I don’t believe in that God. Jesus didn’t believe in that God either. When he was confronted, he said the greatest commandment was to love your neighbour as yourself, and on that hung ‘all the law and all the prophets’. 

If I am asked about the nature of that great power, that great Other which I call God, I would answer that my God is Love.  Indeed, Love was the one thing Jesus consistently taught. How do we understand that Love? There’s another word, packed with meanings and packed with baggage. We heard a story last week of a woman who was not of Jesus’ faith or culture, teaching him a couple of lessons about love. We can think of a story about a Jewish man beaten and left by the side of the road, shunned by at least two of his own people, but cared for by a Samaritan – and man not of the Jewish faith or culture. A foreigner. And we are left to draw the conclusion about what constitutes love of neighbour. 

How do we talk about language, talk about what we believe, talk about how we express our belief, talk about our fears and doubts, questions and thoughts. I hope we can have some open conversations, recognising that we all bring our different selves to the discussion. I hope it will be done in the understanding that we don’t have a common language of faith, and openness to hear others without judgment or criticism. Language is important, and we have to be willing to engage in dialogue, in the language we think we hold in common, and yet which often can cause so many misunderstandings. May it be so.

“Even the Dogs…..” James 2:1-10,14-17 Mark 7:24-37 preached at Keswick-Ravenshoe Pastoral Charge September 6, 2015

This week our world was rocked by a heartbreaking image of a three-year old boy washed ashore on the beach in Turkey – a small boy still completely recognisable, in his red t-shirt and brown shoes.  Isn’t it something that one image like this can galvanise nations into action, even though the refugee crisis has been building and building for several years. I remember another photograph which galvanised, and which in my mind began the trek to the end of the war – a child of 9 named Pham Thi Kim Phuc, running down a road burning from napalm, screaming in agony. There were far more horrific photos taken, but that was the one which finally permeated the consciousness of the west to the horrors of what ordinary people in Viet Nam lived with. There have been many comments n Facebook about how awful it is to publish such a photo – “we don’t need to see this” commented some “we know it is awful”. “I couldn’t look” commented others. And then there were a few like me who said “Yes, you really DO need to see this, you DO need to look. It is too easy for us to remain cocooned, and not recognise the desperation of daily life which the men, women and children of such countries live with. We DON’T know what it is like, unless we ourselves have seen it.”

My Professor of Homiletics (preaching) in seminary insisted that preachers always had to have the text of the Scripture at hand, and whatever other reading material we could find in the other. You could, he said, find good sermon material even in the sports section. We have to do two things with our scriptures – we have to put them into their own context – and then we have to put them into our own context, and see if there are fresh insights which the text brings to today.

So today we have a text in which a woman has come a long way to ask Jesus to save her precious daughter. We don’t know if she is an immigrant, or a migrant who has come for help. We can assume – that the distance was great. All we know is that she does not share Jesus’ ethnic background nor his religion. She is ‘other’. She asks him to save her child, and Jesus replies “it would be unfair to take the food meant for the children, and throw it to the dogs”. Now, to us this means next to nothing. We’ve grown up hearing it and it was just one of those sayings of Jesus. So here is the context – Jesus calls this woman a Gentile dog. He literally says that what he offers is only for the chosen people, no one else – and he uses a racial slur to drive home the point.

Part of the difficulty with this passage is that we have built up this picture of who we think Jesus was; we want him to be the simple, easy answer to all our problems and to all of society’s problems. When faced with the complexities of personal and institutional racism in our country and around the world, it is easier to have Jesus transcending everything, instead of looking at him right in his culture and context. Jesus was a man, and very much a person of his own culture and context – he was one of a people who believed they alone were chosen by God – and to the Jews of that time, people of other ethnicities and religions were considered unclean.

So when he is confronted with the Gentile pagan, he tells her that his message and ministry are only for the people of Israel. He isn’t interested in ministry to someone who is not of his racial background. It wouldn’t be fair to take the banquet prepared for his people – the children, the humans – and give it to Gentiles – the dogs, the less than human.

And she has the distinction of being the only person in the recorded texts who not only got the better of Jesus but also taught him something. She says even the dogs get to eat the crumbs left by others. Even those considered the least are deserving, she says. Even we who are largely invisible are human beings and equally deserving, she says. 

The Jews themselves were refugees – escapees from slavery in Egypt, who fled their captors and went to a new country for a better life. Jesus’ parents fled with him back into Egypt – not migrants but once again refugees, and illegals at that. Yet here is Jesus putting aside someone not of his own race or faith, as ‘not worthy of the crumbs’.  She asked for healing, for some touch to make her life just a bit better by the saving of her child. So there is Jesus’ context. I wonder if that woman was in fact a migrant, a refugee, an illegal.

Today’s context. Migrants, immigrants, refugees – and the crumbs from under our tables.

Migrants, immigrants and refugees are not the same thing. Each word has a different meaning.
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According to UNESCO a migrant is someone who travels freely to another country for reasons of personal convenience and without intervention of an external compelling factor.
They travel freely, of their own accord, to make a better life for themselves. Once they decide to migrate, or to emigrate, they become immigrants to the country of their destination. Interesting that most news articles seem to think that all those poor people in boats just want a change of scenery. Some media would have us believe they are coming to sponge off our country, getting health and benefits, taking all our jobs. So we see an attitude that the poor want to get away from where they are for foodbanks and a life of being lazy.

But what about the word Refugee? We aren’t hearing that word quite so much in the press, when we should be. Refugees are compelled to leave their homes, because they feel there is no other choice. But who would risk drowning just in case, unless the conditions at home are so horrendous that to remain is certain death. Refugees have no choice. They live with the fear of persecution (or worse) because of their religion, race, nationality, or political opinion. They live with the daily threat of death from bombing, shooting, or starvation. They have no choice but to escape for their lives. They leave looking for some crumbs of hope, some tiny sign from under the tables of the very comfortable. They ask for so little – a place of healing and food.

Those are the people of Syria, Eritrea, Afghanistan, Iraq, Armenia, people forced into being on the move seeking some healing, some respite, some few crumbs, and the saving of their children.

God loves the rich and poor. Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity.
Those who are generous are blessed. Do not crush the afflicted at the gate,
for God pleads their cause.

Following the publication of the photo of Kim Phuc, in 1972, the reality of the war was brought home hard. Children were being denied even the crumbs from under the table; children being denied healing and hope. When the war ended in April 1975, the exodus began and hundreds  of people fled – too late for many – and yet between 1975 and 1978 close to two million refugees were accepted by other countries. Some had left sooner, those who could pay their way out. And while it should not be, it is the children and their plight which most touches our hearts in a ­­way nothing else can. The picture of one little boy – a beautiful child of Creation – denied not only healing and hope but even his life, even the chance to find out what else there is, outside the table. And we begin to examine ourselves and our faith, and wonder if we have been holding it just for ourselves, instead of truly putting it into action. I say we, for I am as guilty as the next.

James says to us today “What good is it, my sisters and brothers, if you say you have faith but do not have works?  If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill’, and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?  So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.”

“It is not fair” he said, “to take the food for the children of Israel and feed it to the dogs.” Jesus, amazingly, was incredibly wrong. At least he realised it. Hr was forced to examine his prejudices and biases, and make change. So are we.

This is why we need to read the bible with our newspapers in the other hand – or our ipads or phones or radios, however you hear the news. But what can we do?  Faith communities… can play a significant role in making the human issues of forced migration and displacement central, challenging misleading language, highlighting unjust or victimising policies, and opening up space for alternative perspectives and conversations. We can work to sponsor families, find homes and work for them. We can. Yes it isn’t easy. But we can.

In particular, we need to remind ourselves that we too are the product of people movements – some forced, some voluntary, some hopeful, some fearful. Irish immigrants were refugees, from poverty and starvation. Jews, refugees from persecution and death. Bosnians from persecution, death and starvation. Vietnamese from war, famine, and political upheaval.

The images and the people we are seeing are desperate refugees. We, like Jesus, need to learn. The commandment to love our neighbour as ourselves doesn’t mean only the people we think fit the pattern we set. Our neighbours are clamouring at the gates to get in.  Our job is to open our arms and welcome the stranger. 

Essentially we are Jesus. We are the ones now being told that even the dogs get the crumbs from under the table. There are people crying out in pain, looking for a simple hand of hope, and a chance for healing. If we truly are followers of the Way, then we are called to reach, as far as we can, in any way we can, to our neighbours who we are called to love. Our neighbours are on the shore. How do we respond?

1.      Teaching Jesus a sermon by Rev. Fran Ota

2.      Sermon on the Refugee Crisis, by Rev. Ruth Dudley, Anglican Diocese of Canberra and Goulburn, New South Wales, Australia

"All Our Agreements" final sermon preached at Presteign-Woodbine United Church August 30th, 2015

James 1:17–27 Every good and perfect gift is from Creation, coming from the Maker of the heavenly lights, one who does not change like shadows. We were given birth through the word of truth, and are called to be a kind of firstfruits of creation. My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry; human anger does not produce the desired balance of soul and spirit.  Do not just listen to the word, and pretend you live it. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do it is like someone who looks in a mirror  and, after looking at himself, immediately forgets what he looks like.  Whoever looks into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it - will be blessed in what they do. Those who consider themselves religious, and yet do not listen, think and consider, and keep a tight rein on their tongues, deceive themselves; their religion is worthless. Pure and faultless  religion is this: to look after the underprivileged and poor in their distress, and to keep oneself from being defiled by the world.

Mark 7:1–8, 14–15, 21–23  The Pharisees and some of the teachers of the law who had come from Jerusalem gathered around Jesus, and saw some disciples eating food with hands that were unwashed. (The Pharisees and all the Jews do not eat unless they give their hands a ceremonial washing, holding to the tradition of the elders. When they come from the marketplace they do not eat unless they wash. They observe many other traditions, such as the washing of cups, pitchers and kettles.) So they asked Jesus, “Why don’t your disciples live according to the tradition of the elders instead of eating their food with dirty hands?” Jesus replied, “Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written:

“‘These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.
They worship me in vain; their teachings are merely human rules.’  You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions.”

Again Jesus called to the crowd and said, “Listen to me, everyone, and understand this. Nothing outside a person can make them dirty by going in. Rather, it is what comes out of a person that makes them dirty. For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come - sexual immorality, theft, murder, greed, malice, deceit, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and defile a person.”

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During the month of August  I got into reading a series of books by Ellis Peters, based around the life of Brother Cadfael,  a 12^th century Benedictine monk who solves mysteries. Sme of you might remember the TV series with Sir Derek Jacobi as Cadfael. One was an in-depth look at heresy – at that time considered anyone who questioned the teachings of the great St. Augustine. 

The one I have just finished reading is “Summer of the Danes”, a story involving the historical characters of Owain ap Gwynedd, King of Wales – and his brother Cadwaladr. Owain was well known for his honest dealings, his word was always solid, and if he gave a promise even to an enemy, he kept his word and his promise. His brother Cadwaladr, however, seemed to be in and out of trouble all the time, and every time something happened, Owain would rise in anger, punish, and then relent and welcome his brother back. Blood, family, was most important. In this story, Cadwaladr has attacked and murdered without cause, and as a result his brother the king strips him of his lands, title and wealth. In order to try to force his brother to give him back his lands and wealth, he enters into an agreement with the Danes of Dublin (the Vikings had by then become rooted in Ireland) and promises them two thousand marks to join him to fight. Except – his brother Owain is more interested in finding a peaceful resolution with the Danes. So Cadwaladr dismisses them without paying what he promised, thinking that his brother will back him up, and suddenly many lives are in danger. Owain is furious, and angry. He will only consider forgiveness if Cadwaladr looks to his own promise and keeps his word of payment. Cadwaladr doesn’t believe it because Owain has always taken him back. It’s a convoluted story but in the end, Cadwaladr is forgiven – although he doesn’t get back his lands or his money. Nor, unfortunately, does he learn his lesson.

We have two scriptures today, one about anger and one about what defiles a person. – and it seemed to me that the two brothers Owain and Cadwaladr, are good examples of what was meant. Owain, who was a wise king and ruled almost 40 years, is a man who listens carefully, thinks carefully, doesn’t get angry easily – and if there is a peaceful way to end a confrontation with little or no loss of life, he will always look for the peaceful way. His word is rock solid. He doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean, he is always careful with his words, and he stands on his word – because he knows his reputation stands on his word. What comes out of his mouth is as important as everything else, if not more so.

Cadwaladr, on the other hand, doesn’t listen. He thinks in haste, gets angry fast and often acts in anger, then tries to patch things up and make them better. Inevitably he makes things worse. His word is worth nothing. He manipulates and tries always to turn everything to his own advantage, and then expects to be bailed out by his brother when things go bad, with no consequences to himself. The lives and safety of others don’t seem to matter.

Several years ago I came across a book called “The Four Agreements” by Don Miguel Ruiz. Don Ruiz is now a traditional Toltec spiritual leader and healer, the son of a healer and a shaman. As a young man he chose not to follow this path but instead go to medical school and become a surgeon. He was involved in a car accident in which he himself fell asleep at the wheel, but awoke just as the car hit a wall, and was able to pull his two friends from the wreckage. He remembers that he was not in his physical body at the time, but watched himself save the two friends. Since that time he has embarked on in-depth self-inquiry and spiritual discernment, and has studied all spiritualities, as well as traditional Toltec wisdom and healing.

The ‘four agreements’ are essentially agreements we make with ourselves, for how we are going to live.

1.    Be impeccable with your word. Meaning, speak with integrity, and say only what you mean at all times. Avoid gossip about others when you really don’t know. Use the power of your own word for truth and love. That is harder than it sounds, for it means a lot of self-examination and care.

2.    Don’t take anything personally. Meaning, nothing that others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality. This one I think is the hardest for clergy to learn – that most often when there is criticism it is an extension of the person doing the criticizing; but we tend to take it on ourselves as if it’s ours. Instead, we need to be able to discern clearly what are our own issues, what are not our own issues, and the stuff which isn’t ours we don’t worry about.

3.   

        Don’t make assumptions.

Ask questions express what you really mean. Communicate as clearly as you can in order to avoid misunderstanding. This is closely related to the first agreement, and in fact if you follow this alone your life can be substantially different.

4.    Always do your best

Now, recognize that your best will likely change from moment to moment, depending on how well or unwell you are, or your personal circumstances. If you work always to do your best, then you can avoid self-judgment.

And you return to Number 1 and continue.

Of the two brothers, Owain represents the best of these. He has built a reputation for himself based on his honesty, his integrity of speech and action, his willingness to be responsible for those things which are really his. He is quite literally a man of his word. And as such he is respected by all. He does not allow the rest of the world to determine for him who he is. He understands that it is what comes from him which makes a difference. The world does not corrupt him – if I didn’t know better I’d say he has read this book. He knows that what comes from within is what corrupts, not what comes from the outside.

Cadwaladr, on the other hand, allows the world to decide for him who he is. His personal word is meaningless – he has absolutely no integrity whatsoever. He lies, cheats, steals, kills, manipulates. In the story, the fact that he puts the lives of others in danger to gain his own ends is meaningless to him. He remains angry at his brother and consistently tries to manipulate the situation. …and yet he always says he is doing what he does for the ‘other’, trying to make his own issues theirs as well.

So, why this today? Our time has come to an end. Some of us have known each other well enough that certain things were already understood. Some of us didn’t. Now, you and I both start again elsewhere. You have a new minister coming in who doesn’t really know any of you, and you don’t know much about her. And I think for you it’s more critical in this case, for you are embarking on a two-year commitment to work towards a future. For this to work, you will need these four agreements. The success or failure of the venture will depend on everyone. No one can have a personal agenda they want to see happen here at Presteign-Woodbine, because a personal agenda would be a projection of your own desired reality, rather than looking clearly at what is. You will need to do what the letter of James talked about – listen, and be slow to speak.

When you do speak, be absolutely clear and impeccable with your word. Don’t assume you understand the other completely, don’t assume they understand you. Clarify and re-clarify. Work to do your best. Don’t assume others have motives they don’t. Don’t gossip, don’t do parking lot conversations. Don’t say things behind someone’s back that you would not say to their face. And above all, don’t take things personally and don’t make things personal.

And something we all need to remember – these things all take conscious work, all the time. They don’t happen overnight….that’s the point. They are a process of changing how we are with others and with ourselves – so we always need to be aware that our own old patterns, biases, uncertainties are still always around, and we always have to work with them. They are the things which make us who we are, those things which come out of us. Stepping off on a new road, even when you know the people you walk with, will be different, because it is a new road with new experiences. It is a time for care of one another, working together, listening to each other, allowing the Spirit to work in all of you without trying to set an agenda. It’s hard to live in uncertainty, but it’s my belief that often the very best things come out of uncertainty. It is important to remember that the Holy One is there in the uncertainty, and is looking for ways to work for the best for all concerned, whatever that may be. I’d be willing to be that if we asked every person what is your vision for Presteign-Woodbine, there would be something slightly different. The reality is no one has the right vision.

A student asked me this week, how do I get congregations to go along with my vision of where they should be. I answered that it isn’t my vision of where they should be which is important, it’s their vision of who they want to be and how they decide they want to get there. I can help and facilitate, I cannot devise a vision for them nor make them do it. Neither can anyone from within a congregation. The minute someone says “Here’s my plan for us…” that says to me that someone else’s vision will be lost. I want to encourage you to be open to all new visions, even those which at first glance seem like they might not be workable. You have the time now to do some serious thinking, and some serious discernment.

So my new place will not be my vision either…but a period of listening and learning, of observing how these two congregations are working towards a goal they have set for themselves, and encouraging along the way, sometimes leading but often letting them lead, and just being the presence which reflects them back to themselves. My role is temporary, the role of the congregation is longer-term. Nevertheless, clergy and congregation commit to walk together, even if the way is not always clear.

So, today, we all step off on new roads…and where will they take us? I wonder…..

Sources:

1.    Peters, Ellis. The Summer of the Danes, c.1991. Reprint MysteriousPress, Open Road Integrated Media 2014.

2.    Ruiz, Miguel Angel, MD. “The Four Agreements”, Amber-Allen Publishing 1997 and 2012, San Rafael, California.