March 31, 2014 Painting by Amy Lakroune

Now all the tax-collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’ So he told them this parable: Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbours, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance. (Luke 15:1-7)

March 30, 2014

Did you know that Sundays are not included in the 40 days of Lent?  This strange way of counting is rooted in the Christian belief that every Sunday is a celebration of the Resurrection.  In our Lenten devotional, we will not include meditations on Sundays; instead, we will provide the scripture that will be read in worship at First Christian Church.  We hope that you read and reflect on this sacred Word…and join us for worship, if you are able!

John 18:28-40

Then they took Jesus from Caiaphas to Pilate’s headquarters. It was early in the morning. They themselves did not enter the headquarters, so as to avoid ritual defilement and to be able to eat the Passover. So Pilate went out to them and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” They answered, “If this man were not a criminal, we would not have handed him over to you.” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and judge him according to your law.” The Jews replied, “We are not permitted to put anyone to death.” (This was to fulfill what Jesus had said when he indicated the kind of death he was to die.)

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”

After he had said this, he went out to the Jews again and told them, “I find no case against him. But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” They shouted in reply, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Now Barabbas was a bandit.

March 29, 2014 Excerpt from “A Cosmic Cross” by Paul Tillich

Published in Bread and Wine:  Readings for Lent and Easter (Orbis Books)

In the stories of the crucifixion the agony and the death of Jesus are connected with a group of events in nature:  Darkness covers the land; the curtain of the temple is torn in two; the earth is shaken and the bodies of the saints rise out of their graves.  Nature, with trembling, participates in the decisive event of history.  The sun veils its head; the temples makes the gesture of mourning; the foundations of the earth are moved; the tombs are opened.  Nature is in an uproar because something is happening which concerns the universe…

Trembling and shaking, the earth participated in the agony of the man on the cross and in the despair of all those who had seen in him the beginning of a new eon.  Trembling and shaking, the earth proved that it is not the motherly ground on which we can safely build our houses and cities, our cultures and religious systems.  Trembling and shaking, the earth pointed to another ground on which the earth itself rests:  the self-surrendering love on which all earthly powers and values concentrate their hostility and which they cannot conquer.  Since the hour when Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last and the rocks were split, the earth ceased to be the foundation of what we build on her.  Only insofar as it has a deeper ground can it stand; only insofar as it is rooted in the same foundation in which the cross is rooted can it last.

And the earth not only ceases to be the solid ground of life; she also ceased to be the lasting cave of death.  Resurrection is not something added to the death of him who is the Christ; but it is implied in his death, as the story of the resurrection before the resurrection indicates.  No longer is the universe subjected to the law of death out of birth.  It is subjected to a higher law, to the law of life out of death by the death of him who represented eternal life.  The tombs were opened and bodies were raised when one man in whom God was present without limit committed his spirit into his Father’s hands.  Since this moment the universe is no longer what it was; nature has received another meaning; history is transformed and you and I are no more, and should not be anymore, what we were before.

March 28, 2014

Photo by Virginia Findley

“Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”  (Matthew 7:7-8)

March 27, 2014

“Seeing God at Safeway” by Rev. Katie Russell

I’ve seen some amazing sunrises and sunsets.  The ones that I remember the most are buried in memories of exotic places and grand vacations:  The sunset seen from a restaurant patio in Lima, Peru poured shades of pink across the Pacific Ocean.  From the top of a bluff in Matanzas, Cuba, the sunrise over the Caribbean bay illuminated a fisherman who had already begun his workday.  The last fingers of sunlight reached out to the oil rigs as the sun set along the Gulf Coast of Alabama.

In these moments, I find myself praising God—for the beauty of the earth, for allowing me to be a part of creation, for the promise of the new day or the memories that I will put to bed with the sun.

It seems easier to do this on vacation.  In my every day life, I seldom take time to notice the coming and going of the day.  It requires too much time to stop and reflect—I have work to do, places to be, or an extra hour of sleep to catch.

Yet it’s strange how often God seems to crash into my life when I get too absorbed in it.  One day after leaving the office, I ran to the 7 Corners Safeway; I was in a hurry to get home but I needed to pick up a carton of milk.  As I scurried out of the automatic door, simultaneously shoving the receipt in my pocket and fishing the car keys from my purse, I was boldly confronted with the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen.  It looked like someone had accidentally kicked over cans of pink and orange paints and they were spilling across the sky.

It was so gorgeous that it stopped me in my tracks.  I set my carton of milk on the sidewalk and watched.  I scanned the parking lot and saw other people getting out of their cars and coming out of the stores just to see this spectacular sight.  It was like the whole world held its breath and waited, knowing that it would be over in just a few minutes; we wanted to drink it up for as long as we could.

I think of that day as the day God confronted me in the Safeway parking lot, compelling me to stop and see that God creates the world new each and every day (not just when I’m on vacation).

I hope this Lenten season we will each be able to stop, breathe, and give thanks for God’s work in our lives and in our world.

“And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.’”

(Revelation 21:5)

March 26, 2014

“I Thirst For You” by Mother Teresa

Published in Bread and Wine:  Readings for Lent and Easter (Orbis Books)

I know you through and through – I know everything about you.  The very hairs of your head I have numbered.  Nothing in your life is unimportant to me, I have followed you through the years, and I have always loved you – even in your wanderings.

I know every one of your problems.  I know your need and your worries.  And yes, I know all your sins.  But I tell you again that I love you – not for what you have or haven’t done – I love you for you, for the beauty and dignity my Father gave you by creating you in his own image.

It is a dignity you have often forgotten, a beauty you have tarnished by sin.  But I love you as you are, and I have shed my blood to win you back.  If you only ask me with faith, my grace will touch all that needs changing in your life; and I will give you the strength to free yourself from sin and all its destructive power.

I know what is in your heart – I know your loneliness and all your hurts – the rejections, the judgments, the humiliations.  I carried it all before you.  And I carried it all for you, so you might share my strength and victory.  I know especially your need for love – how you are thirsting to be loved and cherished.  But how often have you thirsted in vain, by seeking that love selfishly, striving to fill the emptiness inside you with passing pleasures – with even greater emptiness of sin.  Do you thirst for love?  “Come to me all you who thirst” (John 7:37).  I will satisfy you and fill you.  Do you thirst to be cherished?  I cherish you more than you can imagine to the point of dying on a cross for you.

I thirst for you.  Yes, that is the only way to even begin to describe my love for you:  I thirst for you.  I thirst to love and be loved by you – that is how precious you are to me.  I thirst for you.  Come to me, and fill your heart and heal your wounds.

If you feel unimportant in the eyes of the world, that matters not at all.  For me, there is no one any more important in the entire world than you.  I thirst for you.  Open to me, come to me, thirst for me, give me your life – and I will prove to you how important you are to my heart…

Come to me with your misery and your sins, with your trouble and needs, and with all your longings to be loved.  I stand at the door of your heart and knock.  Open to me, for I thirst for you.

March 25, 2014

By Ron Hutchison

I have heard the expression that “Jesus died for my sins” a great deal in my life and it has always sounded a little off to me. Most of the time it was joined by the idea that humankind is so lacking in good qualities that we could not reconcile ourselves and it is just by Jesus’s act that we are redeemed with God. I have to say that I have had some problems with the saying and the theology I have heard called “Worm Theology.”  I am aware that Paul in his many letters makes a point that Jesus was very important in the attempts to reconcile humankind with GOD. He really stressed the importance of doing GOD’s will in a world that pulls us away from the will of GOD. I would say that Paul even communicated that nothing humankind could do could work without Jesus. Thus Jesus died because we are so flawed. Paul leaves the feeling that we are unworthy and incompetent so Jesus had to die and that fixed it. But I think there is more than just Jesus’s blood and my sin here.

My problem with this is that the power and potential Jesus said WE have is almost ignored. Jesus did not refer to us as wretches. He did not say we were incapable of receiving GOD’s LOVE. In fact Jesus said we have GOD’s LOVE and nothing can separate us from that LOVE. It seemed to me that Jesus was constantly teaching us how to actualize that LOVE. I know on occasion Jesus told people what not to do, but more often he tells us what we can do to know GOD’s LOVE. Jesus , I feel, was constantly trying to empower us to act as LOVE-creators, like GOD created us. He constantly talked about LOVE, Love, and more love. He told us that GOD LOVES all of us and if we want to please GOD we are to LOVE or love ALL of us, too. Jesus talked about the power in humility, forgiveness, empathy, kindness and courage (did I say FORGIVENESS?) He pushes us to do the right thing in spite of the consequences and he seems confident that we could overcome our flaws to do this.

Jesus is my savior and he is alive with me today teaching me how to overcome my flaws to become the creator GOD created me to be. He keeps telling us how to “challenge the darkness” in the world as well as in ourselves. He died, but long before that he modeled how to be one with and in GOD while we live. He knew that what he was teaching was something people in power feared and it would lead to the death of his body, but he insisted on doing the “right” thing. He also knows GOD better than any man and knew he would live as would the ideal of doing what GOD wills. His death models for me how to live.

I think Jesus thought and believed we were and are capable of doing the right thing as he so skillfully taught us through word and deed. I also believe that when he said in that first communion “Do this in remembrance of me” he was not talking about remembering we are sinners or that he suffered for us, but that we are powerful beings created in LOVE and capable of creating that LOVE by bringing GOD’s Kingdom to earth. “On earth as it is in Heaven.”  Jesus wants us to remember what to do and that we can do those things he taught when we remember him.

I have to admit that the reason I say I am a practicing Christian is that I have so far to go to meet Christ’s standards and I need a lot more practice. During the time of Lent we prepare to set ourselves right with GOD as Jesus taught us. For me it is not a time for counting my failures and doing penance; it is a time for me to count what I have done to be true to calling myself ”a Christian” and work to strengthen myself to give just a bit more of myself to GOD’s will. What I need to do:  LOVE more, study more, practice random kindness more, and forgive a lot more. For me Jesus LIVED to teach me how to be united with GOD and he lives in me whenever I share those behaviors HE taught were important to GOD. He LIVES so I can know how to overcome my sins.

March 24, 2014

Photo by Pam Findley

1 O Lord, you have searched me and known me. ?2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. ?3 You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. ?4 Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely. ?5 You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. ?6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it. 
7 Where can I go from your spirit?  Or where can I flee from your presence? ?8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. ?9 If I take the wings of the morning? and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, ?10 even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast. ?11 If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night’, ?12 even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.  (Psalm 139:1-12)

March 22, 2014

“Transformation” by Wendel Miser

A friend of mine once told me that you have to feel Jesus in order to see Him.  Whether you feel like the woman at the well after meeting Jesus or have witnessed the feeding of the multitudes or have felt the Holy Spirit descending or feel that your sickness or deformity has been healed, you are probably being transformed by what you have experienced.  Whether you have touched His garment or been as attentive to Him as Mary or remain amazed to have seen Him at Emmaus, you are being transformed.  Whether you are like new wineskins or old earthen jars into which new wine is poured or reborn when you are old or are becoming like Lazarus in spirit or a butterfly in resurrection, you are being transformed into the image of Christ.  Whether the Holy has overwhelmed you, or grace or love or hope, you are becoming like Christ.  It may be that you are standing in His light for the first time having been changed by it or your eyes have been opened or your ears unstopped and you are hearing His word afresh or seeing things anew.  Maybe you’re feeling the hope of Jesus’ forgiving act on the cross or eternal life in the resurrection of Jesus more profoundly.  Whatever the case, you are being transformed into a new creature for His purposes through the imprint of His living word.  Follow Jesus and you will become His very own at the delight of His Father.  Maybe this is what is meant to be foretold to us by the transfiguration about our inheritance in Jesus at Easter.  Amen.

WLM:  1/27/14

March 21, 2014

Photos by Pam Findley

Prayer by W.E.B. DuBois

Lord of the springtime,

Father of flower, field and fruit,

smile on us in these earnest days

when the work is heavy and the toil wearisome;

lift up our hearts, O God, to the things worthwhile--

sunshine and night, the dripping rain, the song of the birds,

books and music, and the voices of our friends.

Lift up our hearts to these this night and grant us Thy peace.

Amen.

March 20, 2014

By Diana Fredenburg

                                                                                                                                         
Have you ever really thought about reflections?

If we look at a photo of something reflecting in the water it is often clear, but still fuzzy.  If we are reflecting on a life journey event, our mind’s memories though clear at times are also fuzzy.  Details are often forgotten or exaggerated like the “fish that got away”.  We struggle to remember, asking others about what they remember.  Our recollections are sometimes in conflict, each remembering their own perspective and emotional attachments.  So too is our relationship with God. As we seek to reflect on Jesus’ journey to the cross, we struggle to understand the sacrifice of the Son of God for our salvation.  We are humbled by the Last Supper, a meal so simple that questions one’s faith. Would we be Peter and deny any knowledge?  Would we be Judas and sell him out for 30 pieces of silver?  How would we reflect on the events of the cross as a grieving mother?  Or would we just be a curiosity seeker in the crowd?  I think of the song “One of Us” by Joan Osborne and the lyric “just a stranger on the bus… trying to make his way home.”  How would we reflect on our meeting him or better yet, how would he reflect on meeting us?

 If we invert the photograph our focus actually becomes clearer.  By changing our perspective, not only does the image change, but also our understanding of it.
 What does the Lord require of us?  To act justly, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.  For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life.

March 19, 2014

Photo by Virginia Findley

And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?” For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
(Matthew 6:28-33)

March 18, 2014

“The Promise” by Madeleine L’Engle

Published in The Ordering of Love (WaterBrook Press)

You promised
well, actually you didn’t promise very much, did you?
but that little is enough
is more than enough.
We fail you
over and over again
but you promised to be faithful to us
not to let us fail
beyond your forgiveness of our failure.
In our common temptation
you promised
we would not be tempted more than we are able
you promised not to lead us into temptation
beyond our frail strength
and you
yourself
are our refuge in temptation
our escape from the pit
and that is enough
so that we can bear
more than we thought we could bear
of loneliness, nothingness, otherness,
sin, silliness, sadness.
For thine is the kingdom and the other great fors:
forbearance, forgiveness
fortitude,
forever:
this is what you promised
it is enough
it is everything.

March 17, 2014

By Joel Wurl

“It is well with my soul”
What a wonderful proclamation!  To be able to say “my soul is satisfied” seems to suggest achieving a life without want. A state of uncontainable gratitude for all the happy things that surround me.  A burst of joy for everything good I’ve been given.  Right?  Well…..

The words “It is Well with my Soul” are the title and refrain of one of my favorite hymns, written by Horatio Spafford over 140 years ago.  Spafford was a prominent lawyer and real estate investor in Chicago in the years after the Civil War.  The great fire in Chicago in 1871 brought the city, and his financial foundation, to near ruin.  To escape the calamity, Spafford and his wife, Anna, decided to visit Europe with their four daughters.  Horatio’s work required that he stay behind for a short time, so Anna and the children set sail for England in 1873.  Disaster struck.  Their ship collided with another.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Horatio headed off on another ship as soon as possible to be with Anna.  She had sent him a telegram simply saying “Saved alone.”  All four daughters…. Gone.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

On that ship to reunite with his wife; alone with his thoughts.  Is there any way it could possibly get there fast enough?  Traveling the very same route his wife and daughters, aged 5 to 11, had gone shortly before……

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pain shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

He penned the words to this enduring hymn on that voyage.  He actually felt the feelings that these words embody.  In the midst of what must have been the most abject emotional pain a person could experience, he found inside him an affirmation such as this:

My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to His cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

This is, to me, not just a testament to the remarkable strength that trust in God can provide.  It’s a reminder that spiritual wellness often has sorrowful company in the space of our being.  That’s OK; that’s how it is supposed to be.  Despair and contentment are more natural allies than we realize.  It’s all part of what makes us whole.  God, too, has suffered, never more than on the first Good Friday.  This Lenten season as always, it’s good to be human, made in God’s image.

And Lord haste the day, when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

March 16, 2014

Did you know that Sundays are not included in the 40 days of Lent?  This strange way of counting is rooted in the Christian belief that every Sunday is a celebration of the Resurrection.  In our Lenten devotional, we will not include meditations on Sundays; instead, we will provide the scripture that will be read in worship at First Christian Church.  We hope that you read and reflect on this sacred Word…and join us for worship, if you are able!



John 13:11-17
Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 2The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper 3Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, 4got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. 5Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. 6He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, ‘Lord, are you going to wash my feet?’ 7Jesus answered, ‘You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.’ 8Peter said to him, ‘You will never wash my feet.’ Jesus answered, ‘Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.’ 9Simon Peter said to him, ‘Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!’ 10Jesus said to him, ‘One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.’ 11For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, ‘Not all of you are clean.’
12 After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, ‘Do you know what I have done to you? 13You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. 14So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. 16Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. 17If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.

March 15, 2014

By Rev. Kathleen Kline Moore

When I am afraid, I will trust in you.  Psalm 56:3

We’ve taken to calling her Midnight.  She’s a black cat, dark as burnt coal, who hovers around our front porch. A stray, we have watched her grow up…the only other cat that our tortie, Bethany, will allow to traverse her territory.  Bethany watches her from the inside window.

It’s been over a year now.  Midnight has remained fearful, illusive.  Whenever the door opens she runs.  When one of us arrives home, she leaps off our front porch into the protective shelter of the bushes below.  But the other day something changed.  As I opened the front door to retrieve the morning paper, there she was…her back characteristically hunched in a protective stance, frozen, staring with her eyes into mine.  But this time she didn’t move!  She didn’t run!  She stayed right there and I couldn’t help but freeze with her for a few seconds.  It was a silent gift of delicate, prayerful trust.  Then, as if she realized what was going on, she jumped back down to the cover of the bushes.  And I began to wonder how long it would be before I could actually touch her, until she trusted me enough to forgo her primal fears.

Sometimes trust takes a long, long time to develop.  I had been feeding Midnight steadily on our front porch for over a year.  Yet as much as I could sense her desire to come closer, she would stand distanced, watching.  I can’t figure what it was that broke through her cat barrier.  Did she suddenly understand that she could count on her daily bread?  Or that I, uncharacteristic for me, wouldn’t push her too hard, try and pet her when she was not ready?  Or was it simply time ~ the time it takes to learn to trust in someone or something when it is in your nature to be cautious or to fear.  Sometimes I think that learning to trust is actually a choice we make, for we can never know what the future will hold.

The Psalmist reminds us that when we are feeling persecuted and burdened with fear, God is reliable and fearless for us. When we place our trust in God (and the goodness of each one of us when acting according to God’s purposes), our fears need not overtake us for we will know that God is protecting our vulnerabilities.  As long as we are acting in alignment with what we understand as God’s desires, we can replace our fear with faith.

Whether Midnight replaced her fear with faith is unknown to me!  But as Midnight reminds me, trust must be earned, and often re-earned.  It must be constantly nurtured, proven, restored and it must live respectfully; thoughtfully of the fears that each of us face.  But perhaps this might be Midnight’s best lesson: Whenever our actions are determined by what we might lose, rather than what we might gain, we are allowing our fears to make our decisions for us.

This Lenten season it is my prayer that, like Midnight, we can keep jumping on the porch– day by day receiving the manna that transforms our attitudes and perspectives and will lead us, eventually, to life lived in the creative freedom of God’s overwhelming, ever growing love.

March 14, 2014

By Ron Hutchison

“THY will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”  What could this mean? As a child I remember images of the Throne of God. In pictures there was this white-bearded white man sitting on what appeared to be a throne. I also remember there were sayings like “the Pearly Gates” and “streets of gold.”  There were stories of there never being any problems and reuniting with all our loved ones in bodies like we remembered them.  Heaven was the perfect place where GOD lived and all GOOD people joined “HIM” when they died. Sometimes even good pets were there. When I was young the pictures of heaven only had “white” people in them and I knew somehow non-Christians were not welcome. At the same time I was taught the words to the LORD’S PRAYER. At that time I was not at all troubled by the inconsistency.

In my teens I began to question this Heaven and Hell stuff. By that time in my life I has decided that I was going to go into the ministry and was active in my church and youth group, as well as the Regional youth program in the Capital Area. It was also the time when the Civil Rights Movement and the War in Vietnam were political issues. I was thinking that Heaven had to be different from how it was presented. Another thought I struggled with was if the only reason one should be good was to get to Heaven, then something was missing. I had begun to question the Hell issue as well, but that is another discussion. Something I also noticed was that Jesus seemed to me to be saying the “Kingdom of GOD,” which I think of as synonymous with heaven, was emanate or present and he was not talking about being dead to know/experience it. So, to be honest, I have been considering the issue of Heaven for decades.

Jesus teaches humankind many lessons of how we should treat each other. These lessons—I have understood--are to bring us closer to GOD and Jesus indicates that by being closer to each other we can achieve closeness with GOD. Living peacefully in community with equality and justice is what pleases GOD, according to Jesus. That is the way I understand. By doing this we bring GOD’s Kingdom to earth. Thus we have “Heaven on earth.”  I am fully aware how difficult that is to do personally, but Jesus says we must “just do it.”

Recently I have been thinking of the thought of “heaven on earth “ and have realized that there has been a reversal planted in our minds. Instead we have tried to put our earthly standards of comfort into heaven. Heaven is the reward for “being good.”  It is where we get away from being poor, in pain, or confused. We get to hang out with those whom we loved and they are how we want to remember them, perfectly loving. Heaven is the end of all struggles and we do not have to work anymore. In college I researched and submitted a term paper in my Sociology of Religion class titled “The Use of Religion to Control Slaves in America.”  The primary proposal was that being a good slave would have earned their reward in Heaven. For them, Heaven became all those good things their owners would not give them on earth.

My understanding of Heaven now is that Jesus teaches that all the riches we need to know will result just by being one with GOD. Jesus gives us a list of “Blessed” behaviors enumerated in the Sermon on the Mount. The Beatitudes are a better description than the “streets of gold” or the “pearly gates” of old. As I think about Christ’s last days on earth and how desperately he wanted humankind to learn the lessons that would bring us eternal life. He was so concerned that he wept for us. I am encouraged by that hope he had for our joy. There is great joy to be had by bringing the kind of LOVE and PEACE Christ showed us. The kind of joy that he believed worth his suffering and physical death so that we can learn about GOD’s will on earth as in Heaven. We are LOVED by GOD and blessed by a savior who teaches even today what is truly important. By the GRACE we receive we are forgiven our failures and encouraged to try again each new day to bring  “The Kingdom of GOD” to earth.

March 13, 2014

“Go with God” by Rowe Findley

(Submitted by Dave Findley)

Matthew 26:39, 42

It is our Christian custom to ask God’s blessing on friends who are parting from us.  We of the English language usually say, “God go with you” or “God be with you.”  The Spanish say it differently:  Vaya con Dios – Go with God.

For us, the variation between the two expressions reflects a significant difference in attitudes.  On the night of His betrayal, Jesus voiced both attitudes in the Garden of Gethsemane, when he prayed:  “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.”  At first Jesus asked God to go with Him in His hour of trial.  But in almost the same breath, He discerned the adjustment to divine plans that He must make in his heart, and pledged that He was ready to go with God.

Prayer:

Dear Heavenly Father – May we, like Jesus in Gethsemane, learn the wonderful difference between asking You to go with us, and pledging that we will go with You—to whatever tests and trials life holds for us.  In Jesus’ name, Amen.

March 12, 2014

Photo by Pam Findley

7 A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, ‘Give me a drink’. 8(His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) 9The Samaritan woman said to him, ‘How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?’ (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) 10Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, “Give me a drink”, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.’ 11The woman said to him, ‘Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? 12Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?’ 13Jesus said to her, ‘Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, 14but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.’
(John 4:7-14)

March 11, 2014

“Saying No” by Cherie Hutchison

Saying yes demands
Accepting risk, finding joy.
Life is saying yes.

No says I will not
Commit empty promises
To avoid conflict.

March 10, 2014

By Rev. Katie Russell

Mark 9:14-29

In this story from the Gospel of Mark, the disciples seek Jesus’ help in healing a boy.  The boy’s father tells Jesus that the son has had a violent “spirit” since his birth.  The man brought the boy to Jesus’ disciples, who could not heal him.  “If you are able to do anything,” the man asks, “have pity on us and help us.”

“23Jesus said to him, ‘If you are able!—All things can be done for the one who believes.’ 24Immediately the father of the child cried out, ‘I believe; help my unbelief!’”

And so Jesus rebuked the spirit and it left the boy.

Often this story emphasizes the faith of the disciples, who are criticized by Jesus for failing to heal the boy on their own.  It is also interpreted as a story about prayer, for the narrative concludes with Jesus telling the disciples that they could not cast out the spirit because it is the “kind that can come out only through prayer.”

But I have most often been intrigued by the father, who speaks one of the truest lines I have ever read in the holy scriptures:

“I believe; help my unbelief!”

It’s the cry of a desperate parent, a declaration of faith and yet a confession of doubt.  It’s a paradoxical statement and such an honest one.  It notes that our faith is full of paradoxes:
      That Jesus was “born of Mary” and yet he existed from the beginning of time
      That we doubt and question and yet in these times our faith often grows stronger
      That Christ was crucified and yet He lives
      That we may be confident “in things not seen” and yet not have all the answers
      That we may “believe” and yet still have “unbelief”
I’m not sure that there is a more honest statement of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus.

The season of Lent is a great time to face our paradoxes.  We can use these 40 days to recommit ourselves to belief:  to follow Jesus, to learn from him, to gather at the Table with him, to heal and minister alongside him.  But it is also a time to confess when we—like the earliest disciples--have denied him, betrayed him, run away from him, or disappeared silently into the crowd.

The Lenten season is a time to cry out in prayer:  “I believe; help my unbelief!”

March 9, 2014

Did you know that Sundays are not included in the 40 days of Lent?  This strange way of counting is rooted in the Christian belief that every Sunday is a celebration of the Resurrection.  In our Lenten devotional, we will not include meditations on Sundays; instead, we will provide the scripture that will be read in worship at First Christian Church.  We hope that you read and reflect on this sacred Word…and join us for worship, if you are able!



John 11:17-27
17 When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. 18Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, 19and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. 20When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. 21Martha said to Jesus, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.’ 23Jesus said to her, ‘Your brother will rise again.’ 24Martha said to him, ‘I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.’ 25Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, 26and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?’ 27She said to him, ‘Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.’



(You can read the full account of Jesus raising Lazarus in John 11:1-44)

March 8, 2014

“Where” by Diana Fredenburg

In the blue sky,
In a baby’s smile,
On top of a mountain,
By the rolling waves,
In a puppy’s kiss,
A warm summer breeze,
A helping hand,
A comforting tune,
A ruby sunset,
The soft silence of a snowstorm,
The smell of a flower,
The falling leaves,
A child’s laughter…
Where do you find God?

March 7, 2014

By Ginny George

“From silly devotions and from sour-faced saints, good Lord, deliver us”

That is one of my favorite quotes from Teresa of Avila, a 16th century Spanish mystic philosopher, Carmelite nun and theologian.  Each time I come across it in our hymnal (#336) it puts a smile on my face; but it also perplexes me a bit.  My first reaction is to imagine Teresa as a sort of Maria-figure, singing joyously on the mountain in the style of The Sound of Music. I imagine Teresa being wrenched from a profound and joyous communion with God’s creation in order to attend what must seem, by comparison, a silly, rote monotony of obligatory devotions.  Meanwhile the disapproving nuns of her cloister, like sour-faced saints, puzzle over the question, “How do we solve a problem like . . .” Teresa?  By Teresa’s acknowledgment, “With all this wide and beautiful creation before me, the restless soul longs to enjoy its liberty and rest beyond its bound”.

But sometimes I read the quote quite differently.  Instead of praying for deliverance from the silly devotions and sour faces of others, Teresa may have been looking inward, humbly acknowledging the precarious human state of her own spiritual well-being. Perhaps she was reminding herself, and us, to guard against the beguiling distractions that turn genuine devotions into “silly,” unthinking habit.  Perhaps Teresa’s “sour-faced saints” are pious self-satisfactions that bind us to worldly judgments and rob us of the pure joy of God’s grace.  “The best thing must be to flee from all to the All”.

During the season of Lent we are called to be intentional about our meditations, carving out the time and the focus for profound personal devotions and humble self-examination.    
Will we manage to achieve all that we intend?  Probably not, for as Teresa reminds us “To wish to act like angels while we are still in this world is nothing but folly.”  But as we stumble along our Lenten journey let us be inspired and assured by one more of Teresa’s observations:

"The feeling remains that God is on the journey, too."

March 6, 2014

“Environment of Faith” by Wendel Miser

Mountaintops are for blessed sermons,

And clouds are for transfigurations.

Seas are for deliverance,

And rivers are for the beginning of new life.

Valleys are for coming to terms with shadows,

And deserts are for overcoming.

Rain is for awakenings,

And bushes are for burning.

Rocks are for new waters,

And hills are for light and sacrifice.

Gardens are for joy and sorrow,

And trees are for forgiveness.

Rainbows are for promise,

And stars are for the guiding.

Grass is for earthly time,

And lilies are for grace.

Fish are for the journey to follow,

And doves are for the Spirit.

Stable animals and sheep are for lessons and story,

And birds are for faith.

Wind is for divine presence,

And vine is for the family.

Stones rolled away are for resurrections,

And Heaven is for home.

His hand is for the grasping,

And our journey is with Him on this road of life.

WLM:  January 27, 2013

March 5, 2014 -- Ash Wednesday

“Ashes” by Rev. Katie Russell

It’s always interesting to me how a single word can carry so many meanings and memories. As we approached Lent this year, I thought about the word “ashes.”

Growing up, my family spent our summers camping. Sometimes when I think of “ashes” I can smell the smoke of the campfire, I can feel the warmth and safety of flames and family, and I can see the gray dust still smoldering in the fire ring when I crawled from the tent the next morning.

Sometimes I hear the word “ashes” and recall my Grandma’s funeral; I remember the feeling of the lump that formed in my throat as my mouth recited the words of scripture but my mind wondered how the ashes of a woman so large—in stature and in spirit—could fit in such a small urn.

This year I happened to think of Lent last year, when just before Holy Week a Disciples of Christ church in Owensboro, Kentucky was struck by lightening, caught fire, and burned down.  This incident struck close to home for me.  Owensboro was only a couple hours from Nashville, where I was living at the time. The pastors at that church were friends of my friends. A family in my church was from that town: the father had been baptized in that congregation, the couple married in that sanctuary, the grandmother still worshipped there each week. It was devastating to think what such a loss would mean for a community of faith. But a few days after, when members of the church began to sift through the ashes, this picture was shared on Facebook:

In the midst of the charred building, a Communion Table still stood, somehow still shining white. It seemed to be a miracle—a reminder that the church was more than its building and that the community would go on. It was a sign of hope: new life would emerge from this destruction.

“Ashes” is a strange word. A strange idea. It carries strange memories. Sometimes “ashes” are associated with trauma, pain, grief, or death. Sometimes with warmth, comfort, or the promise of new life.

On Ash Wednesday, Christians often receive ashes on their foreheads and hear the words from Genesis, “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” Like the very word “ashes,” this ritual is rich with meaning: it can be a solemn reminder of our mortality, but it can also be a promise of new life that has yet to spring forth.