We have a big tent!

(A stewardship moment)

Help us grow the tent!

For the second time, I have been asked to stand up and talk about why I am involved in the church’s life.  And for the second time, I have tried but failed to wiggle out of this task.  Because the truth is, I have many doubts; I am unsure why I participate and therefore there is not much to talk about.  Perhaps, participating is simply part of my being.

One day when we lived in Sudbury, one of my Trinity Lutheran “coffee hour friends” said, “I don’t know about you, but when I say the creed, I have my fingers crossed behind my back.”

In this time of virgin birth and the resurrection that we all know follows, I wonder how many of us have “our fingers crossed” as we speak of these miracles.  I’ll bet it is a lot.

Nicholas Kristof, Pulitzer Prize winning columnist for the New York Times and prominent activist for women, the poor, the oppressed and the sick, writes about his admiration and adherence to the principles of Jesus’ teachings, especially the Sermon of the Mount.  He also writes about his skepticism about the virgin birth, the resurrection and the other miracles.  He has asked a number of religious leaders whether, in the absence of these beliefs, he is a Christian.

Rev. Timothy Keller, a New York evangelist and founder of a mega-church with 5000 attendees, replied that these beliefs are integral to Christianity.  Being a Christian without accepting these beliefs would be like being a director of Greenpeace while believing that global warming is a hoax.

Former President Jimmy Carter replied that his belief in these miracles comes from his faith not science.  He added that he does not judge whether someone else is a Christian but tries to apply the teachings of Jesus in his own life, often without success.

Kristof received a most intriguing reply from Cardinal Joseph Tobin of Newark, New Jersey: “If you haven’t completely closed the door on the possibility that God has more to say to you, then I think you’re in the tent.”

The St. Philip’s tent needs to be big enough and broad enough to accommodate those of us who are convinced and those of us who doubt.  Growing such tents requires time, commitment and funds.  Consider this when making your personal and financial commitments for 2020.                                                                                                                                                

Sam Marcuson,                                                                                                                                        December 8, 2019

The call of John the Baptist

If you were to spend a moment daydreaming about your idea for a perfect Christmas, what images would you conjure? Gorgeous music and candlelight? A family gathering without quarrels and instead filled by a sense of Christmas good cheer? Healing for a loved one who is ill? Time with someone you miss? What? 

This week in our readings we meet John the Baptist who calls people to repent. Repentance is rarely an easy sell as it is so often associated with feelings of guilt, of not doing enough or not measuring up. However, repentance isn’t about feeling bad or saying, “I’m sorry.”  Rather, it’s about a re-orientation, a change of perspective and direction, a commitment to turn and live differently.

Advent can be a time to put things in perspective, to channel our energy and resources to those things that matter most … to us, to our families and communities, and to God.

Have a blessed Advent.

Be the Light of Christ

This Sunday is the last one of the church year. It is called Christ the King Sunday.  But he is not the kind of king we might expect. This king calls for our commitment to solidarity with and in suffering of all kind in this world.

As Leonard Cohen wrote, “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”  We are called to be the light of Christ. The light that sheds light on that which justifies and validates hatred and violence to expose it for what it is. The light that sheds light on those who have been ignored, overlooked, and silenced to disavow ignorance for good. The desperately needed ray of light that shines as a glimmer of hope for all and especially today.

Real love...

"God loves human beings. God loves the world. Not an ideal human, but human beings as they are; not an ideal world, but the real world. What we find repulsive in their opposition to God, what we shrink back from with pain and hostility, namely, real human beings, the real world—this is for God the ground of unfathomable love."

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

How much do you like a good argument?

Quick poll: How much do you love a good argument?

Maybe a little or maybe a whole lot… perhaps not at all.

Whatever your preferences, there’s no doubt that arguing – and conflict – is a normal part of human relationships. Especially, perhaps, in Spirit-filled, alive communities like St. Philip’s. Engaged people naturally bring their perspectives, opinions, experiences, ideas, and it only makes sense that these won’t all match or fit together in an obvious way all the time.

Sometimes when I hear the gospel read aloud in church on Sundays, I get all worked up about how often Jesus gets challenged by people around him. Everyone’s always trying to test him and catch him on some bit of wisdom or biblical knowledge. From the lens of my current social context, it seems almost rude – why can’t they give him a break and CALM DOWN??

Then I think of the ancient, Jewish practice of Talmudic debate, and I remember that I’m the one who needs to calm down. For millennia, rabbis and students have come together to analyze, discuss and debate scripture, to challenge each other, to sharpen their thinking, to search for truth. They don’t do it to be rude. They don’t do it to be disrespectful. Debate and conflict is often how we grow. And growth is an undeniable outcome of Jesus’ story.

I find this reassuring and instructive. It’s a worthy if sometimes uncomfortable practice; creating debate and disagreement to sharpen my thinking and search for truth.

Spirit be with you,

Victoria