Dear Family in Faith,

This Sunday, in what would appear to be an ironic twist of fate, we will read a Bible story about Moses putting on a kind of “face mask” in the presence of God’s people—on the very Sunday, that after two years of an un-holy COVID pall over us, WE are beginning to take our masks off! 

Our Session has decided that--coinciding with changes in positivity rates, case counts, and the downward trends in COVID infection, as well as practices in businesses and other houses of worship-- this is the season to adapt our mask policy.  Starting this week, come to worship, please observe social distance, wearing masks will be optional, at your personal discretion.  And those who wear masks are likely doing so because they love you, and don’t want any harm to come to you—however slim the chance may seem.

When Moses dons a veil, it is because his shining face is the sign that Moses has been talking to God and has particular words for God’s people.  Moses’s face, lit up like a light bulb, is the evidence that Moses is taking words directly from God’s mouth to the people’s ears.  Another irony is that, because Moses’s appearance was so changed because Moses had been talking with God, the people were afraid! 

Do you ever wonder why people were afraid when Moses had been talking with God?  Or, do you ever recognize that everyone who truly encounters God is *changed* by that experience? 

But if we believe God truly loves us—of what is there to be afraid? 

Oh. Right. Of course.  The answer is always in the riddle: “How many Presbyterians does it take to change a light bulb?”  

Change?

The Israelites knew that, when Moses had been talking with God, Moses was changed.  They could *see* it.  I suppose, even though the word Moses brought was the life-giving covenant, rather than feeling “loved” God’s people felt scolded?  Rather than a pathway to life—abundant life—is it really the case that any “rules” feel oppressive?  Do we all drive past the speed limit sign, give it the middle finger and set the cruise for 5 miles per hour over because any limit must be bad news?  No.  We set the cruise control 5 miles per hour more because we believe it’s reasonable, that it’s not so excessive that we should get a ticket, even though we’re well aware we’re violating the letter of the law.  “Well, Officer, my speedometer must be a few mph’s off; I don’t speed.” 

And yet, the astonishing thing to me is that anyone who has been in the real presence of Almighty God or who receives God’s words or messages—is changed.  Any person who has been in the real presence of God—changes.  Yet, we all seem to have this expectation that our relationship with God doesn’t have to CHANGE us—we can talk to God and nothing has to change.  We can read the Bible and our life can proceed as normal.  The meek don’t have to inherit the earth, the rich get to buy their way into heaven, and loving our enemies is optional.  We can “love God” and still act as if it doesn’t require any transformation. 

It's as if we want to see God—but it won’t matter at all if we do.  And things can still be the same, whether we see God or not.  But in the Bible, this simply isn’t true.  See God?  You’re changed.  And people can see it on you! 

Can you name a story in the Bible where a character *sees* God and nothing changes about them? 

Yet, somehow, we all would like to *see* God and not be changed by it. 

I believe God is changing the world.  I believe that God is changing us.  I believe that happens because we truly *see God* in ways that are sometimes mysterious, sometimes challenging, sometimes hard to perceive or understand.  Nonetheless, when we see what God is up to, when we can grasp anything God is doing  . . . We. Are. Changed.  It is visible on us, in us, and through us.  We can see it in each other’s faces—if for no other reason that we are made in God’s image (each of us) and therefore, we are each a window of God’s love and intention.  Or, do we not want to trust scripture’s truth? 

Our masks have made it harder to *see* one another and God in each other—yes?  It will be special to *see* one another “uncovered” again.  Let’s be honest, many of us have already been able to do it in other places, too.  But don’t think for a moment that seeing our faces is “business as usual.”  It’s extraordinary!  We bear the image of God for each other, we each are the reminder of the Creator.  And the world should see it on us.

Jesus loves us.  This story can change the world, because it changes us.  When we catch people up and can love them, because God loves them, we change the world.  ”See you” in Church.  

SPDR

Dear Family in Faith,

In the last decade, disaster relief and assistance has become more complicated—partly because our region has been afflicted frequently by disasters of all kinds and their consequences.  Hurricanes and tropical storms that not only afflict the gulf coast, but travel far inland; winter-weather outbreaks in far south Texas and Louisiana even that leave lasting consequences; the failure of infrastructure that provides power and needed resources; tornado outbreaks that are shifting not only from regular times of the year but also from the Oklahoma plains and more often including the Mississippi Delta region; flash flooding events with spring storms—or lasting flooding from storm systems that don’t move.  Storms have gained strength and power and come more often—disrupting the abilities of communities to cope and straining response systems. 

Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (PDA) has always been a mainstay in disaster relief and recovery, but resources have been stretched and stretched; sometimes we’re fighting multiple disasters happening at the same time, and in recent years COVID has prevented having familiar “boots on the ground” to help Presbyteries and congregations cope. 

One of the things our Synod has recognized is that we as Presbyterians in our region could do something TOGETHER as Presbyteries and the Synod to help the work of disaster preparation, response and recovery.  Particularly over the last 5 or 6 years, the Synod has been cultivating conversations between Presbytery leaders and PDA to develop the possibility for a full-time Disaster Assistance Coordinator who can work in our Synod, with and within our Presbyteries, to both prepare for disasters and lead immediate disaster assistance efforts.  And last month, the Synod of the Sun approved a new covenant agreement called a Synod Partnership for Disaster Relief—or SPDR.  At its meeting on February 12^th, the Presbytery of the Pines became one of the first Presbyteries in the Synod to adopt the Partnership agreement—which will include among other things a commitment of $5,000 to the partnership for the next 4 years.  As both one of our Presbytery’s commissioners to Synod and as a member of the Presbytery of the Pines, I was excited to be able to vote TWICE in favor of the partnership!  And I’m looking forward to what it will mean for our ministries in Presbyteries and congregations across the Synod! 

What we’re initiating is a pilot program—where PDA is providing resources and funding, our Synod is providing resources and funding, and our Presbyteries are providing funding and working together—to fund a disaster assistance coordinator based in our Synod, who can be the face of disaster assistance and recovery.  This staff person will raise awareness, help locate and direct support and resources, coordinate efforts, and engage us in being responsive to whatever needs arise.  We won’t be waiting for a national coordination team to come and set up shop when something happens—we’ll have somone accessible who can begin even before storm clouds gather.  We won’t just be responding to nation-wide appeals for assistance, we’ll be asked to help sister congregations and presbyteries respond in real time.  We will hear about disaster assistance more—and be given ways we can help.  We’ll be offered resources to help us PREPARE for disasters ahead of time—before crisis-response is a necessary reality. 

Beyond the work we expect to accomplish together in responding to disasters, the partnership involves the consent of all 11 Presbyteries and the Synod, AND PDA.  It’s hard enough to get 11 Presbyterians to agree on any one specific thing, let alone 11 Presbyteries and the Synod approving a document and a concept that can’t be ammended!  We’re cautiously optimistic this can become a way for more of us to work together to accomplish good things for the Kingdom of God in a way that can lead us into more ways of helping one another respond to God’s calling. 

And it strikes me that these are the kinds of building blocks for ministry that we’ve been witnessing in Jesus’s ministry and calling of people to respond to God’s claim on their lives.  Before Jesus was ever walking across the Sea in the midst of a storm, where he says to the Wind, “peace” and to the Sea, “be still” in front of the disciples struggling in the boats, before Simon Peter can ever ask to also walk on the Sea—Jesus has demonstrated healing diseases, casting out unclean spirits, and helping people in need, and teaching us what it means to LOVE one another.  Especially when there are times of need.  That is, before we ever get to monumental tasks of disaster-proportions—in starts with recognizing another’s need and choosing to respond in love. 

Jesus loves us.  Jesus’s love of us is supposed to move us to love others.  Loving others is the power that changes the world.  Hear that?  Jesus is calling—inviting you to look beyond what’s right in front of you, to the distant horizon.  “You will catch people,” Jesus says.  My grandma always said, “You catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar.”  It just makes sense that having been loved, we should love.  If we do, in every way we can, we will change the world.  ”See you” in Church.  

g—inviting you to look beyond what’s right in front of you, to the distant horizon.  “You will catch people,” Jesus says.  My grandma always said, “You catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar.”  It just makes sense that having been loved, we should love.  If we do, in every way we can, we will change the world.  ”See you” in Church.  

Dear Family in Faith,

For a few weeks, the picture in the upper right corner was in one of the windows in our chapel where Jesus’ baptism is depicted.  For the last couple of weeks, it’s been a picture of the window that depicts Jesus calling the first disciples.  We believe our call as Christians is related to both—that our “calling” as faithful believers and disciples is both a part of our baptismal vows, and part of Jesus’ invitation to us “to follow.”  And when I come to these stories now, I’m visually reminded of my opportunity to be physically present on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. 

The picture below was taken just off the shoreline of the Sea of Galilee.  I was standing maybe 150-200 yards off of the actual shoreline (that’s hidden).  Just past the line of shrub-like things, there’s a steep slope down to the water’s edge, and the boat you can see on the water is maybe another 200 yards or so away from the shore.  There are four people in the boat.  And what I didn’t know at the time

I snapped the photo is that two of the persons in the boat were fourth generation fishermen on the Sea of Galilee, and the other two persons were two individuals from our traveling group, who managed to talk their way onto the fishing trip by offering the fishermen money.  I remember this, because at a distance of nearly 400 yards (give or take) you could clearly hear their voices talking.  And because the fishermen were doing most of the talking in middle eastern accents, the people with me on the shore had no idea some of our group were on the boat, which meant we paid no mind to the conversation.  But even at that distance, it was like they had microphones! 

One of the mysteries of visiting the Sea of Galilee is still trying to imagine what the ancient shoreline was like when Jesus was there in the flesh.  One of the places that nearly all tourists visit is where the Sermon on the Mount is said to have taken place—on the top of a hill.  But when you visit there, you discover none of the acoustics “work.”  If Jesus is “on the mount” speaking “down” to the shore—as people tell you at the site—people down below can’t really hear past a few feet.  But if Jesus were “on the shore” speaking to people who were “on the hillside”—whoa!  It’s like the speaker is amplified! 

It’s one of those things that what it says in Matthew’s version of the story (Sermon on the Mount) can’t be true at the same time as what is said in Luke’s version (Sermon on the Plain).  It’s one of those things that if you ever get the chance to have the experience, Jesus speaking from a boat, a few feet out on the water, makes a lot more sense if he were teaching or preaching to a crowd of people.  Whereas Jesus on the mountain?  Matthew’s making more of a theological point in the way he is telling it.  That’s not the important part about this story, though. 

I don’t know what the voice of God actually sounds like to my ear.  I listen.  But for me, often, God’s way of speaking isn’t the voice out of a cloud, or even on the shoreline.  For me, the experience is a feeling—a kind of shudder, a warm sense of calm, a prickly feeling on the back of my head, moments in which I know I should be paying attention.  My father related to me a story this week about his having clearly heard the voice of God speaking to him one day.  Audible.  In his ear.  My dad’s own hearing of it.  He wasn’t on the Sea of Galilee when he heard it.  And there was no such voice when I was walking in Galilee, either.  We talk about listening for and answering God’s call to us—though I don’t imagine it’s always everyone’s experience of an actual, physical, audible voice. 

Last Sunday, I heard the call and claim of God’s voice as a colleague answered the vows of ordination and installation in an installation service conducted by the Presbytery.  The same kind of service that we will celebrate as we ordain and install newly elected officers for FPC in El Dorado.  The voice of God calling, and being answered, or responded to hopefully in faithfulness and with joy—through the “voice” of the congregation’s election of them.  Those vows, an echo of our baptismal vows, of professing our faith, of being welcomed into the household of God and given a purpose. 

In last Sunday’s gospel reading, Jesus offered the disciples a purpose: “from now on you will be catching people.”  And they left everything and followed.  In this week’s gospel reading, there are blessings and woes.  Enough “woe” to make us nervous and uncertain.  Enough blessing perhaps, to sound like our name.  Hear that?  …Jesus is callin g—inviting you to look beyond what’s right in front of you, to the distant horizon.  “Follow me,” says the voice.  …”See you” in Church.  

Got a Call?

 Dear Family in Faith,

“Got a Call?”  …One of my claims to fame that maybe not one other living soul knows about (because the people who would have known have all died) is that back in the late ‘90’s a couple of PCUSA staff persons asked me to write the script for a video being created by the Office of Theological Education.  I didn’t even get credit in the credits (so, even if you have an old VHS VCR hooked up to a television, and you borrowed the video from my office shelf, you could watch the video and still not know it was my script!).  In those days, the soundtrack was cheezy ‘80’s electronic music and the theme centered around an old “cordless” telephone ringing—calling PCUSA congregations to “action” in support of the Theological Education Fund—a holdover project from the reunion of the Presbyterian Church in 1984). 

The intent was to create a two-pronged promotion—help churches support a denomination-wide funding project for our Presbyterian seminaries; and invite youth and young adults to consider a “call to ministry.”  “Got a call?”  …get it?  [There might also be other reasons the video didn’t have wide acknowledgement!  …but I digress.] 

We wanted everyone to know that all of us have a “Call” to ministry.  For some it’s answered in the form of considering ministry of Word and Sacraments, or ministry of Ruling Elder or Deacon.  Or for congregations, the “call” to support theological education for ministers and church leaders for sustaining the Church’s ministry and witness far into the future.  “…Got a call?”  Yes.  Yes you do!  We believe that God is calling ALL of us to respond to God’s witness in Jesus Christ! 

Liturgically, the journey that begins with the birth of Jesus, is also encapsulated in the journey of the Magi who were called and followed a star to “see” Jesus; is also made manifest in Jesus’ call that is answered in his baptism and temptation; is continued in his calling followers and believers in Galilee, and even reaches out of the stories of scripture to “grab” all of us and drag us into stories of ministry, too.  What kind of ministry?  That’s what the next few Sundays in the lectionary help to “flesh out.”  We’ve been seeing who Jesus is.  Now we’re going to begin to hear about what Jesus is calling US to do. 

Wait!  Isn’t enough that we see who Jesus is?  …and believe in him?  Do we really have to be called to do something more?  What’s wrong with just stopping at the confession of faith, “Jesus is Lord”—my personal Lord and Savior? 

In short …nothing’s “wrong” with that.  It’s just that once we’re “in the room with Jesus” …things happen.  The definition of what it means to “follow Jesus” isn’t like Magnum P.I. or the F.B.I. following someone, recording their movements, and filing a report.  As “followers” of Jesus, we’re not like the Peanuts gang who “follow” Charlie Brown as he carries the poor little Christmas tree away from rehearsal after everyone thought he did a lousy job—to see what happens.  Rather, to “follow Jesus” means following enough to see Charlie Brown “give up” on decorating, but then the gang suddenly sees their place in “fixing up the little tree” until it becomes a spectacular tree. 

I believe that once we’ve found ourselves in the presence of Jesus Christ—things change in how we see and understand the world.  And we become people pressed to fix the stuff that we see is less than stellar.  That we begin to do the same kinds of things that we see Jesus do—even if it’s not exactly the same way.  We feed people, we participate in healing people, we want to help people having a bad day or an awful week.  In other words, Jesus invites us to respond to the world like he does.  And “watching him do it,” is supposed to be the means to our own introduction to, “doing it,” too! 

This Sunday, not only our scripture readings but our election of new church officers invite us to see and confirm God’s call to real people in the world (our people) who are being called by God to particular purposes in the work of Jesus and the work and leadership of our congregation.  In part, these are the people who see God’s work in the world, and will be calling our congregation to address it—much like Jesus who sees God’s work in the world and invites others to join him in ministry.  This shouldn’t be a moment where we say, “Oh good.  Here are the people who are called to do God’s work”—while we sit back and watch.  Rather, this is the moment where we entrust called leaders, to pay attention to where Jesus is calling us all together, to be working in ministry, for the sake of God’s kingdom.  These aren’t people we’re giving jobs to.  These are people we hope and pray will help point us to OUR “CALL” to respond to Jesus. 

Hear that?  …that’s your phone ringing !  YOU’VE got a call! 

Thank you, Jesus.  We’re all trying to follow.  “See you” in Church.