Category Archives: Lenten reflection

Gracias a Dios

Selma Montgomery March 2013

Eighty people stand in a circle outside a church in Northport. Arms crossed, hands clasped. Latino, black, white. Invited to share their vision for a beautiful Alabama, voices ring out.   Dignity, dignidad.   Life without fear, vivir sin miedo. Peace, faith,  strength to stay in the struggle.  Repeal of HB 56. No more tearing families apart.  A multicultural, multilingual Alabama. The ability to lead our people. Courage, valor.

People who daily are labeled illegal are now labeled Leaders.

People who’ve been told time and again it’s time to leave know now it’s time to lead.

People who’ve been told to move know now it’s time for a movement.

Men in work shirts, university professors, mothers and grandmothers, college students, civil rights icons, teenagers and children, all calling out their vision for a beautiful Alabama. In a moment of quiet, a Latina child calls out, Roll Tide! Everyone laughs, but I think we all feel the painful irony. That’s just how deeply rooted in Alabama our immigrant neighbors are, and yet the intent of Alabama’s new immigration law is to force them to leave or to live here in fear.

Roll Tide? Oh yes, the tide is turning in Alabama, and it will not be turned back.   We are One family, One Alabama. Brown, black and white, in Alabama, of all places. HB56 is bringing us together. It’s a miracle. The kingdom of God is at hand.  God is doing a new thing, can you not behold it?  Thanks be to God.  Gracias a Dios.

-Rev. Angie, 2013

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On anger

The National Football League announced this week that it has levied severe penalties on the “bounty” system, a locker-room game where players got informal bonuses for vicious hits on the other team’s most valuable players. Injure a player, win $1,000; knock out a player, win $1,500; double or triple your money during the playoffs.  A player who knocked out the quarterback of the 2010 NFC Championship game could have cashed in $10,000.   The stakes were high; so were the penalties.

It’s all baffling to me.  How do you decide when and how to punish violence in a game that rewards violence?  I wonder the same thing when I see a young person sent off to war, trained to kill combatants and civilians, then prosecuted for exploding over the line.  Doesn’t the violence beget violence?  Who is responsible?  Where do you draw the line?

Most of us don’t feel connected to such cycles of violence, but Jesus connects personal anger with social violence:  “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, “You shall not murder’; and “whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ 22 But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, “You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire (Matthew 5:21-22).

That seems extreme. Anger is a human emotion, a God-given one, right? Surely it’s not something that should damn us to hell, right?

Still, holding on to anger, I once heard and often repeat, is like drinking rat poison and waiting for the rat to die. You only poison yourself.

Maybe it’s worse than that. When we nurse our anger, our blood pressure rises. Resentment seeps through our pores. Steam rises. We can turn the anger in on ourselves when we disappoint ourselves; we can turn it on the people around us when they disappoint or betray us. Whether we choke it down or not, our anger affects the people around us.   Anger begets anger, just like violence begets violence.   It can create a climate, an atmosphere, that permits escalation to occur.

During Lent, many of us try to do better, to be better. To be more patient with our loved ones. Maybe even to be more patient with ourselves. Not to lose our temper. Not to hold onto anger or bitterness.

What I learn each year during Lent is that it isn’t really about us and what we do or fail to do. It’s about God, and how God responds when we do what we vow not to do, or fail to do what we vow to do.   The truth is that we all fail to live fully up to our Lenten commitments, which gives us the chance to receive the immeasurable gift of God’s grace, all over again. Forgiveness is a powerful antidote to the poison of anger, and it may be the only thing that can set us free.

-Rev. Angie

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Surrender – A poem by by Julie Palestrina 

Sit down

Let go

Breathe in deep

Exhale slow

Unclench

Unwind

Ease up

Free the mind

No rules

No goal

Light heart

Quiet soul

Spoil the child

Spare the rod

Give up

Rest in God

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Standing on Holy Ground

Selma Montgomery March 2013

Walking from Selma to Montgomery, thousands of people from all over the country. Old folks on canes and in wheelchairs, children in strollers, college students with boundless energy.

Whites, Blacks, Latinos. They crossed the infamous Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, where once-peaceful marchers were beaten and clubbed by men whose duty was to enforce the law, where the same marchers came back singing, ‘ain’t nobody gonna turn us around’ and marched all the way to Montgomery.

This year thousands came, crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge, and made that same five day pilgrimage to Montgomery.

They came because they had been there.

They came because they wished they had been there.

They came because they don’t want to go back there again.

They came because of HB56.

They came because they felt called to do something about a mean spirit set loose in our country. A mean spirit that wants to turn back the times, to go back to “the good old days” that weren’t so good for people without privilege. A mean spirit that once denied access to voting booths and lunch counters and water fountains, that still denies full access to justice and dignity to people with certain pigment, and that now seeks to deny access to people without papers.

And so they marched. They whispered, “We are standing on holy ground, walking in holy footsteps.” Walking in the footsteps of people who 47 years ago marched this same road to overturn the tables of injustice, like Jesus did when he overturned the tables in the Temple.

Standing on holy ground: When Moses stood on holy ground, God told him to take off his shoes. As soon as he did, God gave him his marching orders: go to Egypt, and set my people free!

Walking in holy footsteps: as soon as the disciples dropped their nets to follow Jesus, he gave them their marching orders: If you want to be my disciple, pick up the cross and follow me.

Walking in holy footsteps, standing on holy ground. Marching orders seem to follow. You are standing on holy ground, My Beloveds, not just when you enter the sanctuary of the church but every time your foot touches the earth, because every speck of dirt that God ever created is holy.

So what about walking in holy footsteps? Remember when you were a child at the beach, running behind someone much larger than you, trying to stay in their footsteps, leaping from footstep to footstep quickly before the next wave washed the footstep away, running without looking up because their legs were so much longer than yours? Trying not to make your own footprints, trying not to miss a step, not caring where they were going, just not wanting them to end?

It’s time to look up, time to pay attention. Whose footsteps are you walking in? Consciously or not, we are all walking in someone’s. Are they the ones you really want to follow? And where are those footsteps taking you?  Is it really where you want to go? Standing on holy ground, check. Walking in holy footsteps, check. It must be time to take off your shoes, drop your nets, and get ready for your marching orders.

-Rev. Angie

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Keeping Quiet – A poem by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve

and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,

let’s not speak in any language;

let’s stop for one second,

and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment

without rush, without engines;

we would all be together

in a sudden strangeness.

Fisherman in the cold sea

would not harm whales

and the man gathering salt

would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,

wars with gas, wars with fire,

victories with no survivors,

would put on clean clothes

and walk about with their brothers

in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused

with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about;

I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded

about keeping our lives moving,

and for once could do nothing,

perhaps a huge silence

might interrupt this sadness

of never understanding ourselves

and of threatening ourselves with death.

Perhaps the earth can teach us

as when everything seems dead

and later proves to be alive.

Now I’ll count up to twelve

and you keep quiet and I will go.

Source: translated by Alistair Reid in Extravagaria

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Beloved reflection from Cindy Jones

As I walk outside this morning the birds are singing even though the sky is grey.   I get to work and my coworkers are laughing; don’t they realize the pain around them? The world keeps moving and lives are lived but those who are hurting feel like their hearts have stopped beating. Will the sun shine again? Will the clouds disperse and a rainbow appear?  Will I ever stand on top of the mountain instead of in the valley? Will God’s grace prevail?

As the words in the song Drift Away say,

“Day after day I’m more confused

yet I look for the light through the pouring rain.”

We can’t ever stop looking for the light in the storm, for it is the beacon which will guide us home. The sun is always shining even when the sky is filled with clouds. It is in the hard times when we have to reach out and grab God’s grace for it is always there just like the sun.

May God’s grace shine through you and light the path for others who are in the dark.

-Cindy Jones

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Lenten prayer from Felice Piazza

Lord, open me to you completely.

Help me to hear your voice
and see with your eyes
the needs of all those
I can be of assistance to.

Let me learn to live as you lived,
to help all those I see,
and turn my back on no one.

Please fill me with understanding
of the needs of others I meet
and learn of daily.

Fill me with your spirit.

Amen.

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Lenten reflection from Ed Boutwell

Every year when Lent comes back around I have trouble deciding what I should be giving up.

Do I give up some food ?

Do I give up a vice? (I have just about given up all of them already! Time seems to have done that!)

Well, this year I have decided to give up feeling sad. No more wishing my kids were here. No more wishing my parents were still around. No more wishing I hadn’t sold my business. The list goes on and on.

Now I plan to take on happy projects. Things that fulfill me.

Now I have to decide just what the projects will be. I guess I should increase my participation at Church. That’ll do it!

-Ed Boutwell

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Our Daily Bread

My mother loves to cook. She always loved to try out new recipes, which unfortunately did not go over very well with her four young children. Unfortunately, her culinary skills were lost on us when we were young. Often she would spend hours preparing a new exotic dish, only to be met with cries of, “Oh, gross! What is this?”

That’s what the freed but hungry slaves said when God sent them out to gather food during their journey toward the promised land.   The word “manna” actually means “what is this??”

A people set free from slavery prayed, “Give us our daily bread.” Manna was God’s answer.

God gave instructions to these pilgrims about the divine provisions.

Each morning the heads of households were go out and gather manna for that day.

Each householder was to gather the same amount for each person in his household.

On the 6th day they were to gather enough for 2 days.

On the 7th day they were not to gather at all.

Some funny things happened. Some gathered more than God instructed, but even so, they had nothing left over. Some gathered less, but still had enough. Those who tried to hoard for future days found that the manna spoiled overnight and became infested with worms. Those who went out to gather on the 7th day, found none.

This is the economy of God.

There is miraculously enough for each person, each and every day. God provides, we participate. We gather and we distribute. We are entrusted with this holy duty. If we keep too much for ourselves, it will spoil and become infested with worms. This may be metaphorical, but it’s worth considering during this season of Lent. We are entrusted with providing for all who are in our care, all who are unable to care for themselves. This is not metaphorical, and our failure to do so is also worth considering during this season of Lent.

God could feed the world without us, but for some reason, we are given the blessing and burden of putting food on the tables of the world. Our own children may scrunch up their noses and say, “gross, what is that?,” but many are hungry for the bread of Life. That is both metaphorical, and not.

-Rev. Angie Wright

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Lenten reflection from Cindy Jones

I am afraid to live and I am afraid to die: I am afraid to get mad and I am afraid to cry: Fear is squeezing the life out of me. It prohibits me from chasing my dreams and broadening my horizons. I am scared of the unknown. His skin is not like mine so how could he understand me. She is in a wheelchair so how can she know how I feel? The family is in a country where they do not speak our language so how can they understand my words? What if I make a mistake and offend someone? I am afraid, I am afraid of God, for any day he could quit loving me. Is He real anyway?

 

Fear is the vine that grows wild and wraps around anything in its path. No matter how big or small, your fright is like a vine left unattended it gets out of control.  It is our fear that causes prejudice, anger and inflated egos. Fear can be overcome by God’s word. His word is like the sun shining down on flowers, when taken in it will help you grow. It can be the root of your existence, when you meditate on his daily word the fear dissipates and the love begins to blossom. A heart filled with love does not have room for fear. When your eyes are set on God, your heart is one with His and your spirit is at peace, you can do all things through Christ even love someone who is different than you.


-Cindy Jones

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