Through Stained Glass: Mental Health Month

 

“Authenticity is a collection of choices that we have to make every day.
It's about the choice to show up and be real.
The choice to be honest. The choice to let our true selves be seen.”
― Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The Presbyterian Church U.S.A. is committed to pruning back the stigma around mental health. As a way to do this, all PCUSA congregations are eligible to apply for one-time 'seed' grants to initiate projects that will help educate, equip, and empower churches to reach out to people with mental health concerns and their loved ones. Our denomination is committed to seeing that we live a healthy, integrated life as children of God. 

 At First Presbyterian Church, we are committed to doing our part in normalizing mental health and wellbeing. A few years ago, the Hoffert family gifted First Presbyterian Church in becoming an advocate for mental health with financial resources to establish the FPC Wellness Fund. The fund is set aside for members of First Presbyterian Church seeking assistance with regards to their mental health. Thus far, the funds have been used for parishioners to visit with a licensed therapist, pastoral counselors, and spiritual directors. The Wellness Fund is available for all First Presbyterian Church members. 

 Throughout Jesus's ministry, he confronted the tendency to rank and sort people into systems that elevate some and diminish others as if all were not equally loved and precious in the eyes of God. At FPC we want to prevent this from happening around mental health. We do so by encouraging open dialogue about our mental health and equating it with our physical wellbeing. We also provide educational resources and opportunities to erase the stigma of mental illness in our community. The best way to destigmatize mental health is to share stories about how we care for our personal mental health. Finally, as a community of faith, we encourage each other to lean into the love God has for us in our journey towards wholeness and wellbeing. 

 Scripture calls us to love God with our heart, mind, soul, and strength. In the Incarnation of Jesus, we see God affirming all of creation—but especially our bodies, and all that comes with being human. Our goal is to be a place where people can come be themselves. Mental health ministry happens in communities that nurture authenticity, know how to respond when someone is in crisis or pain, and develop the capacity to 'walk alongside' with healthy boundaries, recognizing our shared human frailty and individual gifts, whatever our mental health status. Our Wellness Fund and the opportunities that flow from it is one more way we live into genuinely being a place where "all are welcome!" 

The Session, our Ministry Teams, and Adam are wanting to apply for the PCUSA grant. If you are interested in working with Adam, let him know. Also, if you would like to contribute to the FPC Wellness Fund, let Chris know, and she can make it happen. Finally, if you need someone to talk to or have questions about mental health, do not hesitate to reach out to Adam. He's more than happy to listen and learn from your questions and stories.

Through Stained Glass: A Flower Follow Up

“The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily
do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm.
If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.”
― St. Therese of Lisieux

 You all.

I made a goof.

 

If you noticed, there were no seeds in your Lent-In-a-Bag!

 

I'm sorry!

 

Here's what happened—not that any excuse is a good excuse.

 

When I was putting together our bags, I wanted to put in a seed of some sort we could enjoy by easter. One of the flowers that kept coming up in my searches were—crocuses. I then would search where to buy them and ran into the same answer—anywhere on the internets, but they wouldn't arrive in time for when we were to distribute our Lent-in-a-bag. At that point, I said, "Bummer! Oh well, I'll find something else."

 

And I didn't. I got busy, forgot about our flowers, and handed the bags out without seeds.

 

This happens when you try to do all the things and don't take time to double-check your work.

 

Yet, after my sermon yesterday [3/21], I had a few of you comment or send me messages about how you could relate to the squirrel story I told. In fact, one of you told me how you are anticipating the emergence of your flowers this spring … but the squirrel activity this last winter in your yard makes you a little skeptical.

 

I love hearing these stories. I know you love hearing stories from me, too. This is why I have this idea:

 

I want you to write me a story about your garden or what seeds you'll plant this spring or your favorite flower or the time when you were sure you planted the tulips by the fence, but they came up over near the garage.

 

If you don't want to write about your garden, flowers, or tell a story, please feel free to use the watercolor paints to create a picture of them! When you complete your art or story—send it to us at the church to share them on the bulletin board in the parlor. We've created a beautiful collage of our Lenten journey thus far, and I hope you make time to see it.

 

It is wild to think we are nearing the end of Lent. For five weeks now, we have read about God's covenant with God's people and the extremes God goes to save us! We've journeyed with Jesus as he proclaims the reign of God drawing near and that we can know the fullness of life with God here and now with each other. 

 

It is true, we are entering Lent's final days. Yet, we are still a resurrection people, which means we are Christ in the world now. Where we are – there Chris is, too. In and through us the glory—the heart of God—is revealed whenever we do justice, love kindness, and welcome the Risen Christ in everyone we meet!  

 

The good news is that the seed of Love has been planted already—and new life is soon to emerge! 

Through Stained Glass: Creating What's Happening

Salvation comes first, from God, for God's people. 

The Commandments are not God's way of controlling the people. Instead, they are gifts—instructions or teachings—that give birth to life in its fullest. The foundation of the commandments is God's grace. 

God is the God of all the things. In the Ancient Near East, the different levels of the universe and Earth were controlled by other gods. The God of the Hebrew people is the God of all. 

Remember, the Old Testament texts for Lent remind us of God's covenant. The covenant is a promise—and God promises the people of God to be their God, and they will be God's people. From the creation story, the flood story, and now Abraham's story, emerges the foundation of God's relationship to nature, to the people of God then, and to us today. Despite all the obstacles that stand in the way of God's covenant, promises to God's people are fulfilled. 

The giving of the Ten Commandments is an important moment in the life of the Hebrew people. It is known as "the time when our Torah was given," or zeman matan toratenus. The liberation of God's people out of Egypt and the giving of the Torah sets the God of the Hebrews apart from the other gods. These gods were involved only in nature, whereas the Hebrew people's God acts in history. These two events are essential in the development of the identity as God's people in that these acts display God's manifestation as Israel's redeemer—a God who is concerned with the redemption of the oppressed. 

What happens on Sinai is an important moment in the development of the identity of our Jewish siblings. The momentous encounter with God at Sinai is, for Judaism, the defining moment in Jewish history, the moment when God came down on earth and spoke to all the Jewish people, present and future, given them God's rules of life, which they embraced enthusiastically. 

The Ten Commandments are about life. The covenant God made to the Hebrew people leads them to a place of promise where they will know life abundant. Thus, we mustn't relegate the Ten Words to a 'set of rules' put forth by God to control us. Instead, we must see them in the context of covenant—God enunciates the terms for an enduring relationship with Israel. The Ten Commandments in Exodus 20 is one more example—one more layer to the covenant relationship between God and God's people. The Hebrew people's God is wanting a covenantal community—which is quite unlike every conventional community of abuse, leverage, and exploitation. 

God wants to save God's people. Salvation is from God for God's people. God does this through covenant—in giving the Ten Commandments, teachings, or instructions of laws that enliven and enlighten humanity. The commandments [all 600+ of them] are gifts from God—sorry to be so redundant. They are a part of the Torah—together as a whole, they form patterns of respect and relationship that can shape all of life! 

And the Decalogue begins this way, "I am the Holy One your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery." Remember, God moves towards us. God creates, then liberates! God alone can do this for us. God is God—I AM who I AM—I AM WHAT'S HAPPENING!

And what's happening is God restoring us to God, creation, one another—and to ourselves. 

The Ten Commandments are to remind us of God's saving work in history! God took sides and responded to the cries of the oppressed by liberating them. As God's creative agents in the world now—this is our call! 

As you create your painting for the Ten Commandments, what images come to mind when you see them less as a means by which God controls and more as gifts that deepen relationships with God, creation, others, and yourselves? 

Through Stained Glass: Covenant Creation--Living Love

“Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.”
― Brene Brown

God loves you. 

Read that again.

God loves you. 

Not only that, but God keeps the oath God made to you. We may turn away from God, but God never turns away from us. 

Why? That's the mystery—especially to the text above. We don't get an answer—except that God loves God's people. 

Throughout Lent, the Old Testament lessons will focus on covenant. The God of our faith is not concerned with God's self—like the other gods. No, the God of our faith is concerned with creation—including us. God embraces all—wraps us in hugs of mercy and love. God moves towards us, not from a place of anger—which so many insist is the case. When we turn away from God, it grieves God. From this grief, God moves towards us to restore us to our relationship with God and all that is good and beautiful in life. 

We are transformed by God, and God is transformed through our embrace. The other gods are only interested in their own triumph. But the God in Scripture hears the cries of God's people and responds with their liberation. God wants us to live—to know God's glory and enjoy God forever. We do this—we are fully alive—when we do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.

Or, to paraphrase Jesus, we are to love God and neighbor as ourselves. 

In living to love, we know God. We see God, experience God. In the songs we sing and the prayers we pray, we breathe God. In each note, we write or care we send or poem we pen—we write God. 

Take time now to listen. 

No, really. Listen. Turn off your TV. Put down the phone—mute all electronics. Listen. Do you hear it? Silence. Wind. Sunshine. Birds. Your breath. God. 

Are you sitting? Good. The covenant God makes with us—with you—is to never forsake or abandon us. 

Remember that flood story from the first week of Lent? What is it about? It isn't about the water or the animals or whether or not the unicorn was too stubborn to get on board—it is about something else. Something deeper. 

It discloses the nature of God—a God who chooses compassion…who sees us for what we really are and moves us towards renewal. In the Noah story, we see what pain and isolation, and separation do to humanity, creation, and God. 

Here is my take away from the flood: I can resist God all I want; I can ignore the invitation to co-create with God as long as I want; I can pursue all the small 'g' gods I want—but nothing will change the truth that God will still move towards me in mercy and love. 

Because the thing about the flood story is this—it is a narrative rooted not in anger but in grief. The crisis is not the water, but the grief we cause each other—and God. The narrative is centered on the grief of God, whose heart knows about our hearts. 

Our pain, our suffering, our grief impacts God. The theological significance of this is—the Holy One is not

static. 

Rather, the Holy One is Dynamic. God enters into our story because God loves us so much. 

How does order come from chaos? Not by some tyrannical, angry god who is a puppet master. It comes by way of the anguish and grief of God, who enters into the world's pain and fracture. God gifts us with creative love but does not force us to live into it. God longs for us to turn toward God, but God does not commandeer it. 

We mess up. When we do, we have to name how we mess up, address it, confess it even, and then return to God--this is what repentance means. We can recognize how we miss the mark while also embracing the new creation we are in God through Christ. Or, as Walter Brueggemann says, "The [flood] narrative concerns the grief of God and the emergence of new humanity amid the old, judged humanity." 

The story isn't about all that water, how all them animals got into that boat, or the scientific data surrounding this story. To focus on such things will miss the point of this covenant story.

Which is what?

Where we expect destruction by the hands of an angry God, we get new life from the heart of a tender God. In the end, we know this from the flood—God resolves that God will stay with, endure, and sustain God's world, notwithstanding the sorry state of humanity. We can do our best to anger God—but not even our worst attempts will sway God from God's grand dream for creation. 

Here's why I want us to paint rainbows—because it makes us deal with the truth that God loves us. In that first stroke of the paintbrush, we bear witness to the Creator's compassion and love for us. 

In the simple act of creating—dipping our brush in water and then dabbing it in the paint—we are taking our first step towards our own liberation. We become who we are at our core—creators! The invitation to paint is an invitation to embrace our wildness—to embrace the movement of the Spirit—to allow the Divine Creativity to intersect with our imagination. 

The essence of the flood story is that of vulnerability and possibility.

The essence of our story is that of creativity and hope. 

God is about goodness and creation, and love. 

At our core—in our image and likeness of the Wild—we are, too. 

Through Stained Glass: A Lenten Word a Day Reflection-Walk

Remember the long way that the HOLY ONE your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness... Deuteronomy 8.2

My dogs teach me a lot about life.

They teach me about patience and the importance of rest. They teach me about listening and the importance of play. My dogs remind me to stop and smell the flowers while loving me with their entire being at all times.

Today my Golden pals taught me something about Lent.

The photo above is of two leashes but one dog. It tells the story of Chloe and Tecumseh—the former wise in her age moves a little slower, intentionally, and the latter full of spunk, eager to greet anything and anyone walking by us. Chloe saunters; Tecumseh sprints. Chloe smells those flowers, Tecumseh chases leaves. Chloe rests on her throne in the bedroom; Tecumseh wrings the bell to go outside 1000 times a day because he thinks the squirrels are mocking him!

Lent is here. We are six days into our 40+ day journey into the wilderness. As we enter deeper into the season of returning to Love, walking in the wilderness of liberation, remember to go at your own pace. Our spirituality and faith formation is not a competition. It is about naming what separates us from Love and then returning to our Original Name. If you gave something up, good on you! My prayer is one of strength for you in this journey. If you took something on, way to go! My prayer is one of courage for you.

Whether you took something on, or gave something up, or opting out of Lent altogether—my prayer for you is one of gentleness and mercy. It's like what mystic and poet Mary Oliver says:

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Finally, a word about opting out of Lent altogether.

We've been in this pandemic now for a year. As the covid related deaths near 500,000, it is a bleak reminder that over the last year—since last Lent—we've had to give up a lot. All of us have sacrificed so much of ourselves that the idea of taking on or giving up something seems more life-draining than life-giving. 

And that is okay.

Go at your own pace. Walk the wilderness path in your own time—resting on a bench when you need to, sitting beneath a tree to gain perspective, or letting the wild beasts and angels wait on you. Lent is a season first and foremost about reconnecting with the Divine and Her presence within you.

Right now, Tecumseh is outside looking up at those squirrels barking at him from the powerline. And Chloe, she is snoozing at my feet as I type this blog. Both doing what they need to do—while reminding me that life lived from a place of 'both/and' is far more entertaining and joyful than one lived from the false binaries of 'either/or.' 

Remember, you are God's Beloved...

Through Stained Glass: God Talk and Sippie Wallace

“We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be.”
― Anne Lamott

Outside, the wind whips wildly—rattling the beautiful stained glass windows.

On my record player in my study, Sippie Wallace is singing the blues. As Sippie sings, I hear the words of Black Liberation theologian James Cone in my head saying, "The Blues are made by working people....When they have a lot of problems to solve about their work when their wages are low, and they don't have no way to exist hardly, and they don't know which way to turn and what to do." (James H. Cone, The Spirituals and the Blues (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1992), 104).

As I prepare for my seventh Zoom meeting of the week, I take this moment to catch my breath. I have one window cracked, and the cold, February air seeps into the study. My fingers are freezing as I type, and my nose is getting that way too. After each sentence, I sniffle, hoping the heat kicks on soon.

Four o'clock. The bells toll four times over a now quiet Ottawa street. Just two hours ago, students were gleefully fleeing the school. Two students—one bundled head to toe with stocking cap and mask, exposing only their eyes; the other with a mask and their oversized winter coat unzipped—discuss the possibility of a snow day. "You're right," one says in defeat, "it probably won't happen." I walk up the stairs, and as I do, one of the students yell out, "Hey! We like your mask." Smiling with my eyes, I respond with an emphatic "Thank you!" I unlock the door, they start giggling and singing, and off we go to our next thing.

The wind is causing the smoke from my incense to dance. The candle flame flickers—I'm reminded that even in this space, by myself, the Spirit is with me. What is the Spirit up to, I wonder? As I read about the Trinity, as I prepare for an Administrative Team meeting, as I rest—what is the Spirit creating? My coffee is cold. My water is at room temperature. Three hundred and forty-two words into this post, I can feel my fingers again.

Today is my Friday, even though tomorrow is a full day. At 9:00 am, I have my first class of the semester. I'll discuss my 600-word essay on the theological background regarding the Trinity in the fourth century. As I reacquaint myself with words like hypostasis and ousia, I'm reminded once more that our words—especially those we use to talk about God—matter. We discuss this at Kirk Night, too. From Scripture to the theology emerging from it, how we talk about God does not occur in a vacuum. Our particularity in history shapes our story. From Moses to Methodius, Athanasius to Adam—we bring our lives with us in the conversations and discussions about faith.

As I wrote that last line, Sippie went silent. I stood up and flipped the record over. She sings again, serenading me about her experience. She is telling me about the Divine spirit that gives her breath to sing. Her story—like your story—and my story—is God-talk.

Through Stained Glass: My Epiphany Star Word

God looks at us and says, "You are my dear, dear child: I'm delighted with you." ~N.T. Wright

Know what’s wild?

It has been almost one month since Epiphany!

And, want to know something even wilder?

We are 15 days away from the start of Lent.

Where has 2021 gone? Just kidding. But for real, time is flying by!

As we approach a new season in our liturgical life together, I want to share how my Epiphany Word practice is going.

Wait. Epiphany word? What are you even talking about, Adam?

On Sunday, January 10, the front of the bulletin had a star. At the end of the service, I invited you all to consider a word that will guide you towards the light and love of Christ in 2021. I then asked you to write down that word on the star and place it somewhere you can see it to remind you of the journey we are on this year. Do you remember? If not, go back and watch our Epiphany Sunday service! You can get to it by clicking here.

Similar to last year, my word came quickly to me. For whatever reason, the word that kept being revealed to me was the word realize.

Like many of you, I have dreams, goals, and hopes. However, I struggle with making these aspirations come to life. It is a growing edge of mine—to see plans through until the very end, which is why the word realize guides me this year.

The basic definition of realize I’m working with this year is this one: to make something real. 2021 is the year I realize my dreams:

• A new church directory and a renewal of our ministry teams.
• A doctorate proposal that gets me to the research and writing part of the program.
• The dream of implementing my rule of life, which will come to fruition during my sabbatical.

These hopes are the big ones in my life. I have smaller ones, too. Like making fishing a part of my self-care, walking the dogs 4 to 5 days a week, and teaching them new tricks; reading 52 books in 2021 [thank goodness for school!]; returning to the habit of making meals regularly. Ultimately, in all aspects of my life, I want to realize the love of God—to embody this love in all that I do.

For me, it is not enough to talk about my dreams, hopes, and aspirations. I must realize them!

Since January 6, we’ve been in the season known as “the time after the Epiphany.” All the Bible stories have been about revealing God’s love to the world—especially in the person and ministry of Jesus. Epiphany reminds us that we are a people of Light and of the Light. The star leads us towards becoming this Light in the world. When we allow the Divine's light and love to transform us, the Epiphany seasons move us—bring us to a different place.

So, friends, what is your word guiding you this year? What do you need more of this year to become the Light God gifted you to be?

Whatever your word is, know that you have a community of faith rooting you on, walking with you as you realize the Light that you are at your core!

Together we will be curators of epiphanic moments for Lincoln and beyond.

Once you have your word, let me know! I would love for you to share them with me. 

[It usually takes a couple days past the Epiphany for me to find mine. Thank goodness I have colleagues who make “star word Sunday” a practice in their communities and their own lives to help me along the way. If you need some inspiration, check out this blog by Rev. Marci Glass, the pastor of Southminster Presbyterian Church in Boise, Idaho. She has done this practice with her congregation for many years and has numerous posts to find what our star words could be. You can get to her website here.]