Cilantro, Heavy Lifting, and Sales Receipts

The "Tuesday Team" was back at it yesterday; we prepared Mexican Chili for today's lunch at The Largest Table. I woke up this morning looking forward to lunch - the smells were great as we were leaving last night! The chili will be served with a dollop of sour cream and a few snips of fresh cilantro from the children's garden. There was something really thrilling about being able to harvest a huge amount of fresh cilantro from right outside our doors and know that it was the children of the church who planted it. I am sure not everyone will opt for the cilantro garnish today, but I think it is what will make this soup.

I also have a renewed appreciation for Joan and Mary, and our core "Wednesday Team." Between all of the cans of tomatoes, beef broth and black beans that were opened to make chili for 300 last night, I think Latsi was opening cans for more than an hour straight! I am sure she will be able to feel the workout on her arms this morning. And then there was Stephanie who was able to lift our largest pots FULL of browned ground beef, onions, and peppers to drain them and return it the pan. But that is not at all unusual. Our volunteers often need to open that many cans. We always have full and heavy pots. The quantities of food we are preparing now are really quite amazing. I wish I had taken a photo of all of the empty cans - maybe I can get one later today and post it here. Think multiple cases that filled the entire back of my car! So, I have renewed appreciation for the physical labor that our volunteers engage in week after week.

I also have a renewed appreciation for their thriftiness. I am not sure how Joan does it. Routinely, she is able to shop for a meal to serve 200-300 people for less than $200. That is less than $1 per serving for a home cooked meal with all of the food groups. Repeat: I am not sure how Joan does it. I think of myself as a pretty good shopper, but I wasn't quite able to work her magic. I think she has the in with the loaves and fishes guy.

Why Bother? Part Two

Yesterday I blogged about why I "bother" to go to the General Synod, and likened it to why I bother to the read the news, or enter into dialogue about issues that have no apparent resolution. There is another reason I "bother" to go; and it is the same reason I "bother" with worship. Worship - long before I was a pastor - was a central and essential part of my life.

At its best, worship reminds me of my highest aspirations and connects me to God as well as to the larger community. When I am struggling, I realize there are others who are struggling also. When I am too proud or too focused on myself, worship pulls me out of my self-centeredness and focuses me on a larger picture.

At Synod, we had some inspiring worship experiences with marvelous preaching, and wonderful singing. I only knew a handful of people but I felt connected through our common bond in Christ. Today I am looking forward to being in my home congregation where I know and am known by nearly everyone. It's not a bother; it's a blessing!

Why Bother?

With every new members class I find myself talking about how the autonomy (or the freedom) each congregation in the United Church of Christ has is both a blessing and burden. This freedom is certainly a blessing because we are free to govern ourselves and make our own decisions; we can live as fully into God's call for us as we are attentive, inspired, and willing to do. Yet, it is also a burden for these very same reasons. Within our denomination there is no one who will mandate what our position should be on an issue, or whether we should restructure ourselves, or change hymnals, or perform commitment ceremonies. That sounds great until we realize that in order to bring about change we must risk initiating those changes. We must risk being the one to take a stand or initiate dialogue. There is no larger structure to hide behind with the excuse that "they are making us do this!"

Upon returning from the General Synod, I have had a couple of people ask me (essentially), "Why Bother?" Why bother going to the national meeting when there is nothing that really happens with any authority? Why bother going through the whole resolution process and sitting through discussions and plenarys when all that ends up happening is that the national church gives us some recommendations?

On this Independence Day, I woke up and realized that my answer to "Why Bother?" is much the same as to why I listen to the news, why I read different perspectives, why being a part of a community is so important to me. If I live in my own little world (as comfortable as that can be), I can't possibly live responsibly. If I am not aware of different problems and perspectives, how can I respond to them?

At the Synod we spent much time talking about the challenges we still face with racism. We didn't solve the problems, but I became more sensitive to them, as well as more hopeful for the future because I know there are many who care. I felt stretched by things I have heard and found myself reflecting more deeply on the intersections of race and poverty, race and our criminal justice system, race and education. I am not sure where that is leading yet, but I know I was helped by the discussion.

I came upon this photograph titled Freedom is the Possibility of Isolation. It is titled after a quote from "The Book of Disquiet" by Fernando Pessoa. I am one who loves the beautiful sand and sky and times of isolation; yet on this Independence Day, I am saying a prayer of thanks for the community that pulls me into relationship and responsibility.

Immersed in Worship Ideas

One of the things that I have been watching closely here at Synod are the many ways worship participants have been pulled into the experience through all of their senses. Yesterday I learned of the team that met last November to plan how they might bring to life the theme, "Immerse Yourself" in Grand Rapids. From the evocative stage and energetic dancers to the varied music and litanies, we have been wading deep into this theme that draws from the gift of water.


The Rev. Alexandra Childs, a pastor at Alameda (California) First Congregational Church coordinated the physical set. It took Childs and a dozen other volunteers five days to create the handpainted 25 x 42 foot canvas that serves as a backdrop, (the floor actually) for the worship participants. It has whirls and wisps of blues and greens that evokes a vivid interpretation of sky, mountain, lakes, and rivers. There is also an 8 by 8 foot immersion pool at centerstage and 200 gallons of water that recycled itself over 3 levels creating a beautiful waterfall that is not only lovely to look at but wonderful and peaceful to hear. Framing these falls were plants and fieldstone. At the back wall there are two "rain panels" made out of multi-blue hued LED lighting and soft fabric.

In addition there is a jumbo screen and then many video panels throughout the hall so everyone can see everything that is happening. The images on the screens have been so thoughtfully selected that they enhance rather than distract my worship experience. Within every worship service there is a variety of musical styles and instrumentation. There is dancing. There are different languages spoken. There are many, many ways to engage each participant.

Part of my keen interest in these worship elements this year is because I have been thinking about and praying about how we might more effectively use a variety of experiences in our worship service. The space in our sanctuary is entirely different from a convention hall but the need to be attentive to all the ways people experience and learn has inspired me to try to expand what we are doing now.

Is there anyone who wants to dream about this with me?

Do Not Lose Hope!

Two great men were honored at Synod today; they are both men who have continually helped me move forward in hope.


The first man honored was Ralph Quellhorst, our current Consistory president, who is retiring from his work with the Pension Board. At a surprise reception for him, one by one, different people from all over the country came forward to share a memory of Ralph. I noted how a recurring theme was mentoring and encouragement. I wonder just how many people have been nurtured in their call from Ralph; I realized I am just one among many! What a gift he has brought not only to these individual lives, but to the denomination and the greater Church through his constant encouragement.

Tonight the Synod also celebrated the work of our General Minister and President for the past ten years, John Thomas. John has been leading the UCC for just about as long as I have been ordained. I have always been impressed with John's pastoral, theological, intelligent, and prophetic leadership. Tonight his address to those gathered moved me a great deal. Every time I am with him I sense his authenticity, and tonight was no exception. I appreciated the way he was able to talk about his honest assessment of the past ten years - the disappointments as well as those things we can celebrate. As one person said, "He is able to tell us everything that is wrong and we are still inspired!"

The refrain tonight was, "Do not lose hope; let your light shine; treasure your call in Christ Jesus!" These men have been people who have helped me do just that.

God's Punctuation

Greetings from the UCC General Synod #GS27!

I arrived in Grand Rapids earlier today for the UCC General Synod. Grand Rapids has rolled out the red carpet for what is shaping up to be the largest convention to ever be held in this city. I get a thrill of seeing so many different people together in one place, bound together by our commitment to Christ. However, the highlight of the day for me was this evening's worship service that featured the choirs and the Rev. Otis Moss, III, from Trinity UCC in Chicago.

Any day I get to hear Rev. Moss preach is a good day! He is so skilled, and smart, and filled with the Spirit! Tonight Moss preached on Revelation 1:1-8 and talked about "God's punctuation;" he brought the Still Speaking comma into a whole new perspective. I won't share the whole sermon here, only one thought that emerged as Moss was just getting started that has stayed with me. Moss says that since God is the "Alpha and the Omega," and the "Beginning and the End," only God can really use a period. Too often, we are quick to put a period after things. We consider lives, or circumstances, projects or dreams to be "said and done." When we don't think that there is any use to keep exploring, working, or dreaming, we attempt to finish it off with a period. Moss put this into context most clearly for me when he spoke about children.

No child should ever enter this world with a period behind his or her name. No child should ever enter this world or live in a world where people have his or her future figured out before he or she does. Every child should enter this world and be nurtured in this world with a question mark behind his or name - a question mark that signifies that whoever he or she is to become is something that will unfold with the grace of God, hard work, and the nurture of those around them.

It reminds me of Paul who will sometimes sing for us in church a song about how each of us is "full of possibility." How might we more fully cultivate this sense of possibility, this life with a big question mark for each of us?

Make Like a Potato

On Monday, I began a fun read, Julie & Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously. As soon as I saw the preview of the film that will be out later this summer, I knew I wanted to read the book before seeing the movie. In it, Julie Powell decides to cook her way through each of the 524 recipes in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, volume 1, in 365 days.

One of the first recipes she tries is a soup, Potage Parmentier (potato soup). There is nothing in the soup but leeks, potatoes, butter, water, pepper, and salt. It is a "simple soup," but it is not "easy" to make. I won't detail all of the peeling, ricing, simmering steps here, but let it suffice to say it is a process. The process got Julie thinking about the difference between "easy" and "simple," and as a result it has me thinking about it, too.

She wrote about it this way, "This life we had going for us felt like the opposite of Potage Parmentier. It was easy enough to keep on with the soul-sucking jobs; at least it saved having to make a choice. But how much longer could I take such an easy life? Quicksand was easy. Hell, death was easy....maybe I need to make like a potato, winnow myself down, be a part of something that was not easy, just simple."

It reminds me of the wonderful Quaker hymn, "'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free, 'tis a gift to come down where you ought to be ..."