1/13/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

“The modern world will have to fit in with Christmas or die. Those who will not rejoice in the end of the year must be condemned to lament it.” G.K Chesterton, “The Illustrated London News” 1909

I must admit, this one I had to think about.

Granted, it is probably very good advice for someone like me who finds themselves every year in a January funk - the tears typically begin when the taillights of my children’s vehicles disappear down the driveway after the bright and joyful Christmas holiday. Still, isn’t it good to remember how wonderful things were, even if endings make us a little sad?

Closer examination of Chesterton reveals he is not talking about the melancholy we feel after long-awaited events have passed, but is instead pointing towards how the years of our lives are swiftly hastening on into the inevitable time of death -  and rebirth. Looking backwards and grieving for the old contains the danger of preventing us from looking forward in joy toward the new life that is coming. Just as night gives way to day, sleep gives way to wakefulness, winter gives way to spring,  so our lives are giving way to new life in Christ the newborn King. 

“The object of a New Year is not that we should have a new year” Chesterton muses, “but that we should have a new soul and a new nose; new feet, a new backbone, new ears, and new eyes.” The world now faces a choice - rejoice with us in the birth of the babe that makes this new life possible, or forever lament the ending of things as earthly life slowly winds down to a close.

Perhaps our January resolutions this year should contain the resolve to take Chesterton’s advice and instead of grieving the slow march of time, embrace it with patience and joy as getting older means we are one step closer to being born again.

Grace and peace,

Beth

1/6/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

Today is January 6, the feast of the Epiphany, which means you can finally move those wise men up to the manger in your home nativity scene.

What, you took it down already? Why?

I probably know the answer to that.  Because Protestant America’s traditional focus on Christmas as the month before December 25 has left us bereft of the 12 days of Christmas and the Festival of the Epiphany.  For centuries Christians around the world have celebrated Christmas for the 12 days after December 25, and then celebrated the arrival of the three kings on January 6:  the day set aside to honor the star which rose as a sign of God’s intent to reveal the newborn son of God to the entire world, and the wise ones who responded to that star, representing all of us in the gentile world who would follow them into the covenant between God and God’s people.

To try to make up the difference between our cultural expectation and our liturgical practice, many Protestant churches, including us Disciples, move the celebration of Epiphany to the second Sunday of Christmas, calling it “Epiphany Sunday”, and launch the season of Epiphany thereafter. So at least we focus on the themes of Epiphany that Sunday, even if we don’t get the king’s bread, gifts from the wise men, three kings parades with kings and camels, and other traditions that mark the celebration of Three Kings Day among Christians of many other backgrounds. 

Yet even still, the season of Epiphany is the church season we tend to know the least about.  Advent we eagerly greet, Lent we know to be the season of the cross, even Pentecost we recognize as our celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit and the growing of the church, but what exactly is Epiphany? 

The clue is in the stories.  Epiphany begins with the celebration of the star that appeared over Bethlehem, visible to all the world, and weeks later ends with the transfiguration of Jesus, the time on the mountain when before a few chosen disciples Jesus took on his full resurrection form in all its light and splendor.  So for all the Sundays in between the star and the transfiguration, Epiphany is the season of glory - the season of light, when we rejoice in the manifestation of the Son of God growing more and more visible until the whole world sees and knows who he is.

Now I love a good party so I am disappointed we miss out on the Three Kings Day fun other Christians from traditions around the world participate in.  At least over here at my house the three kings are up to the manger now.  But I am very much looking forward to spending the season of Epiphany with you, as we walk together in the growing light of God.

Grace and peace,

Beth

12/30/24

Pastor’s Ponderings

Should old acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot

In the days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

We'll drink a cup of kindness yet

For the sake of auld lang syne

Soon the midnight bells will ring as balls drop and lovers kiss and we sing “for auld lang syne” or “for times long past”, “for long, long ago”. The tune is an ancient Scottish tune set to new words in the 17th century by Scottish poet Robert Burns.  Burns wraps his words around us like a mist of melancholy, reminding that time is quickly passing by and old times should not be forgotten but allowed to become precious memories that evoke the presence of loved ones departed and mark occasions that will take place no more. It is like the bagpiper’s drone, a single note sounded that calls forth longing, acknowledging all that time takes from us.

It is the phrase “we’ll drink a cup of kindness yet” that rings in my heart- a phrase that gets to the very bottom of this song about the river of time that bears all its sons away.  For when it is all said and done, what do we really have but each other?  And what remains in this world after our footsteps have ceased? Naught but the acts of kindness that touched the lives of others as we passed this way in times long past.

Evangelist Tony Campolo once said “We make so much noise on New Year’s Eve because we are trying to drown out the macabre sound of grass growing over our own graves.”  Many a stumbling footstep on New Year’s Eve will witness to how drunk we have to get to drown out that sound!  A better cup to raise is the cup of kindness - the cup containing the realization that in the passing of the days, the acts of kindness that make this world a better place are the only worthy legacy of our brief time together.

Happy New Year my dear friends! We’ll drink a cup of kindness yet.

Grace and Peace,

Beth

12/23/24

Pastor’s Ponderings 

And so my friends, Christmas, like a great boomerang, comes around again.

G.K Chesterton is the origin of the metaphor of Christmas as a boomerang; in 1913 as a part of his column in “The Illustrated London News” he wrote: 

“And all the healthiest things we know are boomerangs - that is, they are things that return.  Sleep is a boomerang.  We fling it from us at morning, and it knocks us down again at night. Daylight is a boomerang.  We see it at the end of the day disappearing in the distance; and at the beginning of the next day we see it come back and break the sky.  I mean, we see it if we get up early enough - which I have done once or twice.”

Me too, Mr. Chesterton, in regards to the sunrise - and truthfully, only once or twice.  But I do understand your point - why it is so important to appreciate the things that come around to us over and over again.  These are the things that create stability and routine in a chaotic and unpredictable world.  Things like Sunday morning worship.  Observance of the Passover which the Lord God commanded and for Christians is celebrated as the Lord’s Supper.

As time goes by and fewer and fewer things remain dependable and constant in our lives - families grow and change, bodies age and memories can no longer be trusted - we grow to appreciate the stability and dependability of the Advent wreath, the Christmas tree, and “Joy to the World” even more.  For even as our lives are brief and the family we cherish so dear this year may not be with us next, Christmas is the ancient promise that with God, all things that come around go around again:  life, death, and life again.  The light shines in the dark, and the darkness does not overcome it.

Light the trees, set the tables, place the gifts under the tree:  Merry Olde Christmas with its boomerang promise of a God who is Emmanuel, with us through all of our days, has come around again.

And may it be a very merry one indeed, my dear friends,

Beth

12/16/24

Pastor’s Ponderings 

I wish for you this Christmas that you be a little silly.

Yes, you read that right.  A little silly.

C.K Chesterton, one of the great writers and teachers of our faith, once wrote in his column in The Illustrated London News (1913):

“Most sensible people say that adults cannot be expected to appreciate Christmas as much as children appreciate it.  But I am not sure that even sensible people are always right; and this has been my principle reason for deciding to be silly - a decision that is now irrevocable.  It may be because I am silly, but I rather think that, relative to the rest of the year, I enjoy Christmas more than I did when I was a child.”

How can this be?  Does this great Christian teacher truly expect us to enjoy Christmas more as adults than we did as children? Is this even possible? 

Well, first of all we must not confuse appreciation of Christmas with greed.  Much of what we associate with children at Christmas is their over-the-top gimme gimme gimme - which we love to watch because they are so stinkin’ cute, even if they are greedy little monsters.  What Chesterton is talking about is very different.  He is talking about their ability to revel in mystery and surprise.

The key to it is to challenge ourselves to let the child’s excitement of unexplainable things happening right beneath our own roof while we sleep deepen as we age into the adult’s understanding that Christmas Eve is indeed a night of unexplainable mystery and power - and then let ourselves fill with wonder.  The more mature our understanding of grace, the lighter our step, the deeper our laughter, the more delightful our celebrations.

The problem is most of us are so weighted down with the burdens of this life we begin to lose the ability to imagine life without these burdens.  We lose our capacity for wonder.  We crowd out mystery with realism.  We are are too busy with the “to do” list to make space for  dancing in sheer joy under the Christmas sky.

Perhaps this is what our Lord means when he tells us in order to enter the kingdom of heaven we must be like a child. Able to imagine the unimaginable.  Able to embrace the unexplainable.  Able to accept that the scene playing out before us in Bethlehem is familiar and simple yet filled with so much we don’t understand.

And so my wish for you in the days ahead is that you laugh hard, love even harder, and be a little silly.

Grace and peace,

Beth

12/9/24

Pastor’s Ponderings 

I know it seems to make sense that kids can make up their own minds about what they believe when they get old enough to do so, but in reality faith is formed in us more so than chosen. We come to discipleship through watching the example of others, by learning the story of the Bible, and by worshipping through the church year while squirming in the pew beside someone who loves us.  Several years ago someone who was not raised in a faith tradition but who converted to Christianity as a young adult wrote these words in an interview with “The Christian Century”:  “If you didn’t get those little cards they hand out in Sunday School with the stories they tell, faith is not impossible but it is much harder.”  I have long since lost the issue of the magazine in which he was quoted and have even forgotten the young man’s name, but his words and his face in the picture that appeared beside his words are etched into my memory as if with a laser beam. What we do to form faith in our children and our young adults is important.

Last Saturday we opened our doors to give our biggest children’s sermon of the year:  that you are wanted here, you are welcome here, Christmas is a time to receive and in the spirit of love, to give. To the committee who began planning this event months ago - we thank you.  To the volunteers who handled every detail from washing and repairing the lost and found coats collected from area schools at the end of last school year to the 55 dozen eggs broken in advance to the perfect white makeup on Santa’s beard - we thank you. To the many volunteers who showed up on Saturday to see if and where they were needed and to show hospitality to our visitors - we thank you. And for the very simple reason that not one person has asked me “why do we do all this, it’s really more than our little church can handle and at the busiest time of year to boot”  - I gratefully thank you for the great privilege of being your pastor. 

And now we keep listening for a new word from God to see where we are needed to serve, in the name of the child of Bethlehem who grew to a man and said… drum roll please, I know this scripture by heart because I had to recite it in our Christmas play as a 2nd grader (see what I mean? But I had to memorize it in the KJV because my Sunday School teacher was hard core) “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have also done it unto me.”

Grateful to be serving, watching and waiting with you,

Beth

12/2/24

Pastor’s Ponderings 

As the early Christians tried to find words to describe the miracle and the mystery that is Jesus, one beautiful description used is found in the first chapter of Colossians: “in him the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things”.

This is a picture of a God who loves the creation which he has made, and deeply desires to be at one with that creation, reconciled to it despite its sin which has caused the separation between creature and Creator.

So often we think of Jesus as an exit strategy:  a way out of this world and into another whole place somewhere out there which we think of as “heaven”.  But Dr. Norman Wirzba of Duke Divinity School encourages us to think about what God accomplishes in Christ as “transformation not transportation” - meaning transformation of this world, not transportation out of it.

Dr. Wirzba anchors his writing in Revelation 21:  the closing vision of a new heaven and a new earth in which the new Jerusalem descends and this world is transformed, rather than a vision of a spaceship arriving to load us all up and take us all out of here. This promise of a renewed and restored creation is breathtakingly beautiful in its reminder of how much God loves this creation - so much that God will go to any length to redeem it, and promises in the end times it will be renewed and restored in all its beauty and splendor.

And of course we are only one small part of it.  Through Christ God was pleased to reconcile himself to ALL things, Colossians tells us.  Things like birds and snails and fish and trees.  Things like soil and rivers and mountains and sunsets.  All signs of the indwelling presence of a Creator who loves his creation and desires to be one with it - so much so that the fullness of God was pleased to enter into the person of Jesus in order heal and reconcile creation from the inside.

The baby whose birth we celebrate this season is coming for you.  This baby is coming for me.  This baby is coming for the people we love and the people we don’t like.  This baby is coming for all the creatures of earth and for the very life of the soil itself.  This baby will stop at nothing to find his lost sheep - even the meanest, most ornery ram out here - and call all of his creatures to himself because this baby is the fullness of God, coming to reclaim his own.

Deep inside the darkness a baby was laid in a manger - a feeding box for animals, located in a barn that contains birth and life and death. From this place the babe will grow with the fullness of God, and through him all of creation will have the opportunity to bow before the recognizable face of its Creator.

Grateful to be watching and waiting with you,

Beth

11/25/24

Pastor’s Ponderings 

The seasons of the church year change this Sunday with the arrival of Advent in all its beauty and mystery.  We have moved through the entire season of Pentecost, paused to give thanks at Thanksgiving, and now march on into the hope of Christ’s coming -  begging the question “is Advent the last season of the past church year, or is it the first season of the new one?” In other words, are we preparing for the Christ who is still yet to come, or are we celebrating the Christ who already came?

It has been a year since we started this particular journey, a year which started with Christmas as we celebrated the birth of Christ, then into Epiphany where we worshipped together with themes of Jesus as the light of the world, Lent with its call to examine our lives in the shadow of the cross, Easter with its proclamation of sheer joy and resurrection, and Pentecost overseeing the maturing faithfulness of the church under the hovering wings of the Holy Spirit. Now we have arrived once again at Advent with its themes of the coming of the Messiah and the star-studded sky of Bethlehem.  So again my question:  Is Advent the last season of the church year, the final season when we look long into the future towards the second coming of our Lord, or the first season of a new church year, the time we start the whole thing over again by celebrating Jesus who was born in Bethlehem during the days of Emperor Augustus when Quirinus was governor of Syria?

It’s a trick question I suppose, because the answer is “yes.”  Or “both”. The Christian year is a magnificent circle with the season of Advent simultaneously both finishing one year and beginning the next. This is why we talk about the Hebrew prophecies of the coming of the Messiah, the Messiah who was born in the person of Jesus, and the New Testament prophecies of the second coming of the triumphant Christ who will come again to judge the quick and the dead - all in the same season of the church year.

The key to our Advent celebration is to not limit Advent to the Hebrew prophecies and the birth of Jesus, but to let Advent in all its glory and power sweep us into the realization that not only did he come, he is coming into our lives anew this Christmas, and he will come again in victory when the first rays of the dawn of his kingdom become the full light of the kingdom of God.

So for the next few Sundays culminating on Christmas Eve we will gather to watch for his coming even as we remember he came - expecting and celebrating at the same time that God has, is, and will come to us.

I am looking forward to celebrating them with you.

Grace and peace,

Beth

11/18/20

Pastor’s Ponderings

“Rest your heart in God, let yourself float on the safe waters, loving life as it comes, with all the rough weather it may bring. Give, without counting how many years are left, not worried about surviving as long as possible.” - Brother Roger, Prior of Taize

November is the month of letting go.

Yes, I know we want you to let go of your money in our annual stewardship pledge drive, but I’m not talking about just that. I’m talking about how letting go frees us for a lighter, deeper life.

For one thing, there’s the need to let go of actual physical items of stuff.  We all have too much - we know that from the biennial yard sale in which we all clean out and tidy up then a mere two years later are ready with just as much we are desperate to get rid of. Just as November’s harvest yields only enough for the year to come, I am reminded of how the Israelites were told to gather just enough manna for what they needed that day.  Except the day before the sabbath, when you could gather what you would need for two days, anything more than what was needed for one day turned into maggots and was worthless.  Several things would happen if we made ourselves live more by the “manna to maggots” rule- our lives would be freer because we wouldn’t have to spend so much time cleaning, organizing and finding places to store our stuff, and we would learn more deeply and more faithfully what it means to trust God to provide what we need rather than feeling the future depends on what we provide for ourselves, eating, the psalmist  reminds us, “the bread of anxious toil”.

And then there are the things that weigh down our hearts.  Things like anger and bitterness.  These are quite heavy burdens to bear and the old saying reminds us the most influential person in your life is the one you refuse to forgive.  It takes a lot of emotional energy and heart space to harbor fury and resentment.  Just take a look at the trees softly releasing their leaves to the autumn sky.  If the trees were to cling to these leaves, refusing to let go, there would be no room for new growth. November is the time of letting go, of cleaning off the old, and preparing for the possibility of new growth.

Lastly, November brings the reminder of the passing of the season, the completion of harvest and the coming of winter. As the earth turns from growth to rest, we realize we too have passed through another season of our lives; another harvest has come and gone within a life that will not go on forever. But November does not live in fear, it merely prepares for new life in the promised spring. Letting go of fear is perhaps the greatest challenge of all - embracing our aging as the process which takes us closer and closer to the finish line, the line we do not fight and struggle to avoid approaching, but lightly step into, trusting God to take us across and beyond.

Grace and peace, 

Beth

11/11/24

Pastor’s Ponderings

In honor of Veterans Day today, I am bringing back the story of a veteran I first wrote about in a pondering years ago - a story which still rises in my heart every November 11.

This one is for Nicki Potter.

Back when I was a child, everyone in my small town of Arapahoe knew the guy who worked at a local garage and lived with his mother across the street from Bethany Christian Church. Only a few, though, knew his whole story.  Most of us, especially us children, only knew him as the town drunk. He stumbled when he walked, and we laughed at his gawky moves and the odd way he breathed.  Every year in December my Daddy took the youth group across the street to Christmas carol at Nicki’s house.  One year I asked Daddy “why does he stink?” “Alcohol” was all he would say.

It would only be years later that I would learn the whole story.  Nicki was a war hero, decorated for valor during World War II.  While overseas fighting in the world’s battle against Hitler, there was one point at which Nicki’s outfit was in such desperate need of a truck that Nicki walked right into the German camp and drove one of theirs out. For that he was highly decorated.  

But those medals weren’t enough to erase his memories of war, especially of the time the Germans hid a houseful of snipers inside an orphanage thinking the Americans would not fire on children.  Nicki and his partners did not know it was an orphanage until he saw the bodies of children flying out of windows of the bombed house.

He came home a decorated war hero, but he would never forget.  And so he drank. And drank. And drank.

As the calendar changes to November and we are reminded to count our blessings, let us start with our veterans.  For sometimes in their bodies and often deep in their souls, they bear for us the scars of war.

Grace and peace,

Beth

11/4/24

Pastor’s Ponderings

On Wednesday night of this week I will finally be able to turn on the evening news and for the first time in what seems like forever be able to sit through the commercials without my blood pressure going up due to the vitriol spewed out in the constant barrage of political ads. No more “Vote for this one or the country will go to pot” immediately followed by “No, vote for that one and the country will be absolutely ruined.” I must admit, I am even ready to hear “the direct number to the law offices of James Scott Farrin, call us today don’t delay”! 

There has been a hilarious drama playing out on Second Street in South Smithfield this election season - one that is no doubt played out in small towns across our nation. Across-the-street neighbors on opposite sides of the red/blue divide have been at war with political signs.  One puts up a Trump/Vance sign; the other responds with a Harris/Walz sign.  Up goes a huge Trump banner between two trees, quickly followed by an equally large Harris banner across the way. On and on it has gone while the whole town watches to see whose turn it is and what is going up next.  

It is a metaphor of our nation right now.  I shout for my candidate, you shout louder for yours.  We shout harder and faster until nobody can hear anything that is being said any more, only words that trigger even deeper anger, words like “immigration”…“abortion”…  ”socialism”…“book banning”.

We are a nation entrenched behind our battle lines, battle lines drawn so thick and so clear that we have lost the ability to even hear each other over the roar of the divide.

Yet Wednesday morning the sun will come up and we who live in this country will need to find a way forward if we have any hope of doing anything other than sitting in our like-minded conclaves, continuing to shout at each other. One way to start is for neighbors who live across the street from each other to engage in what conflict resolution trainers call “interest based negotiations”.  It’s a fancy way of saying figure out what we have in common and celebrate the shared values that we have.

When applied to our country, I think it is fair to say we all want a safe world for our children, justice for our citizens, opportunities to work and thrive, protection from terrorism, and clean air and water.  We are just fighting about how to get there.

No, we can’t do much at all about the deep divide down congressional halls.  But out in our neighborhoods and small towns, we CAN find ways to talk to each other without shouting.  I don’t personally know the residents on Second Street who have been engaged in the red/blue war, but my prayer is they are neighbors who on Wednesday morning will take down their signs and have a good laugh about how they kept the whole town watching. Out in the heartlands of America, purple is still possible.

Grace and peace,

Beth

10/28/24

Pastor’s Ponderings

This Sunday as we gather together to worship, we will celebrate All Saints Sunday:  rejoicing and giving thanks for all the saints of our lives who have poured so much of themselves into our faith and maturity as Christians.  Three of our friends will share personal stories of people in their lives who have impacted them - thus  witnessing to the profound effect each of us can potentially have on another person.

Pope Francis wrote about this in his writing “A Path Toward Sainthood” and I would share his words with you today as we look to our celebration of All Saints Sunday:

“Sanctity is something greater, deeper, which God gives us. Indeed, it is precisely in living with love and offering one’s own Christian witness in everyday affairs that we are called to become saints.  And each in the conditions and state of life in which he or she finds him-or herself.  But you are consecrated.  Are you consecrated? -Be a saint by living out your donation and your ministry with joy.  Are you married? -Be a saint by loving and taking care of your husband or your wife as Christ did for the church.  Are you an unmarried baptized person? -Be a saint by carrying out your work with honesty and competence and by offering time in the service of your brothers and sisters. “But, father, I work in the factory;I work as an accountant, only with numbers; you can’t be a saint there… “ Yes, yes you can! There, where you work, you can become a saint.  God gives you the grace to become holy. God communicates himself to you.  Always, in every place, one can become a saint, that is, one can open oneself up to this grace, which works inside us and leads us to holiness. Are you a parent or a grandparent?  -Be a saint by passionately teaching your children or grandchildren to know and to follow Jesus.  And it takes so much patience to do this: to be a good parent, a good grandfather, a good mother, a good grandmother; it takes so much patience and with this patience comes holiness:  by exercising patience.  Are you a catechist, an educator or a volunteer? -Be a saint by becoming a visible sign of God’s love and of his presence alongside us.  This is it:  every state of life leads to holiness, always!  In your home, on the street, at work, at church, in that moment and in your state of life, the path to sainthood has been opened.  Don’t be discouraged to pursue this path.  It is God alone who gives us the grace.  The Lord asks only this:  that we be in communion with Him and at the service of our brothers and sisters.”

(Pope Francis, “A Path toward Sainthood,” excerpt from Pope Francis’s General Audience Wednesday November 19, 2014.)

Amen.

Grateful for your companionship as we seek holiness together, 

Beth

10/21/24

Pastor’s Ponderings 

“Take care of it and it will bloom every year on your anniversary” Grandma Norman said to us 34 years ago as she gave Marty and me a pot of some of her beautiful pale pink chrysanthemums as a wedding gift.

She was exactly right.  For thirty years it budded up fat buds in early autumn, and by the time our anniversary rolled around, showers of pink blossoms were opening their faces to the October sky.

Until the year it didn’t. Maybe we weren’t paying close enough attention, maybe we took the vigorous little bloomer for granted, but in any case October 20 dawned to a mess of wilted black leaves and no flowers. A quick consult with a master gardener indicated the plant probably had a disease called a blight, and by the looks of it, had been infected for several seasons.  Had we noticed black spots on the leaves?  No, not really - Lower leaves turning black and dropping prematurely? Well, yes a little but we thought it would come back strong the next year - no, your plant is entirely infected. Best to pull the whole thing out and start all over with a new plant of the same species.

Only we couldn’t bear to do it.  So we dug up everything and destroyed it except for three or four little sprigs that still had green life in them.  We replanted them in a pot, being careful to watch the soil conditions, the water, and the sunlight.  We inspected the plant every day, and took nothing for granted.

That fall October 20 arrived to find a small pot with only a few blooms - but healthy. We transplanted a handful of roots back into the ground, again keeping careful watch for the blight and pulling out leaves with any sign of wilt. The next year October 20 found a small but vigorous patch of pink blooms. 

Finally we began to relax again, but vowing to keep careful watch for signs of blight, taking nothing for granted and paying attention every day to the essentials:  soil, light, water. This year the large plant is as vigorous as ever, pink blossoms opening happily to the sun. 

“Take care of it and it will bloom every year on your anniversary” Grandma said - and her words were true for far more than just the gift of her plant.

Grace and peace,

Beth

10/14/24

Pastor’s Ponderings 

“The heavens are telling the glory of God.”

Many of you will remember back in 2021 Marty and I packed our long johns and took a November trip to Iceland. We went for many reasons, one of which was our hope to see the Aurora Borealis, or the northern lights.

We had a marvelous time in Iceland and saw many strange and beautiful things.  It was the trip of a lifetime and so we were not too bummed that it was foggy the whole time we were there and the northern lights were not visible. I know now what the phrase “a blanket of fog” really means as I watched the fog cover and warm the earth, so much that in the brief daylight hours we got to see native Icelanders sunning their babies in the park at a balmy 40 degrees Fahrenheit. 

We didn’t get to see the northern lights when we went to see them, so imagine our excitement when on Thursday night last week the northern lights came to see us! They were very faint to the naked eye, but when viewed from the lens of a camera the night sky came alive in vivid shades of dark rose deepening into purple. 

We knew when and how to look for them because the word was passed through the news media.  If we had not been paying attention, we would have missed the miracle of the beautiful night sky proclaiming the glory of God right above our heads here in eastern North Carolina.

It makes me wonder how much more we miss simply because we do not stop and pay attention.  I think about the famous quote by Alice Walker from her character Shug Avery in The Cold Purple, a hard talking, hard living honky tonk singer who nonetheless had some pretty insightful thoughts about God:  “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it. People think pleasing God is all God cares about. But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back.” 

I am the first to admit I miss so many things, so many signs God sends of God’s love and magnificent power.  But I am so very thankful that on Thursday night I got to see the color purple.

Grace and peace,

Beth

10/7/24

Pastor’s Ponderings 

The apples in a brown carton marked “Momma” seem almost too precious to eat.

They were picked for me in an orchard in Hendersonville the weekend before Helene hit.  They were picked by my children, father and sister on an annual apple-picking trip I missed out on because duty called. I was hosting a Regional Elders meeting at our church on the Saturday morning they were picking apples and after all, I would be going up there for a family visit the very next weekend - or so I thought.

The pictures coming out of western North Carolina have been so full of destruction, so full of the world torn upside down by raging water that it is almost impossible to process.  The man who clung to a tree in the middle of a river for hours then lost consciousness and was swept away right before the eyes of his family. Entire towns vanishing in a matter of hours, swept away by usually docile rivers and streams. Mudslides careening down mountains taking trees and houses with them, blocking road access for people trapped above with what little food and water they had in storage. 

And yet the human spirit is strong and heroic images are there as well.  The man who tied a rope around his waist and dove into the river to rescue a woman whose house was floating downstream with her still inside. The people of the town of Black Mountain riding lawn mowers and walking to the town square for a public meeting to organize aid for isolated residents. The convoy of trucks headed into the disaster zone loaded with water and food donated by generous hands from across our state and nation. 

The grief has been strong, but so has the determination to come together and do what we can for those whose lives have been torn apart.  The apples look up at me from my counter.  They are a long way from the orchard where they ripened, and that orchard may not even exist anymore.  But inside each precious apple is a cluster of seeds - and inside each seed, hope.

Grace and peace,

Beth