Archive for March, 2010

by Carlos Rios

“When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.’” Luke 23:33-34

As we continue through our Lenten journey, we have finally entered the “home stretch” of Holy Week. Our destination is no longer as far away as we remembered and we are filled with hope of the new life that awaits us in Easter. As I’m writing this, it is Monday of Holy Week and the joy of Palm Sunday—the hosannas, the palm fronds, the music, the excitement—is still fresh in my heart. But the story doesn’t end there, of course. Jesus rode into town and received a hero’s welcome, only to face ridicule and death on Good Friday.

As the week progressed, Jesus faced a betrayal, a sham trial, and execution amongst thieves. What a shocking turn of events over the course of a week! Yet in the midst of all of this, while Jesus was hanging on the cross, he utters the phrase above to forgive those who were ridiculing, condemning, and murdering him. I can only imagine the pain and difficulty that came along with that “breath prayer” that Jesus made on the cross: not just physical pain, but the emotional pain of betrayal, mockery, rejection, and abandonment. Yet in the midst of all of this, Christ forgives and asks God to forgive the crowds.

Forgiveness is a difficult process because it always involves someone being wronged. In forgiving you have to identify hurt, deal with hurt, release the hurt, and restore your relationship with the person that has caused you to hurt. Often we think it’s easier to just remain hurt or angry, but this allows bitterness to take root within our souls and chokes our hearts. It constricts our capacity to love.

It is through prayer that our hearts and minds become open to God’s restorative work within us. Jesus asked God to forgive the crowds in the midst of unspeakable hurt. Although our highs and lows are admittedly not as severe, in following Christ’s example we should also forgive one another.

This week I did a lot of praying and practiced a lot of forgiveness. For those who didn’t know, my car was stolen last Monday. Over the course of the week I prayed that my car would turn up in at least decent condition. I prayed for the people who stole my car, too. I simply couldn’t fathom how someone could be so bold as to even do something like that.

I prayed that God would forgive whoever was responsible for the theft of my vehicle. I asked that God would help ME to forgive and to not allow the situation to impact my ability to trust and to love. I found myself echoing Jesus’ sentiment that that God would forgive them, for they know not what they do.

Thankfully, Jesus’ story and my story both have happy endings. My car was recovered late Thursday night. On Friday I was able to retrieve my car and have new keys made and was blessed every step along the way: from our very own Jeff Rossen who gave me a ride from place to place, to the gracious people at the impound lot, to the patient people at the Honda dealer, I had miracles occur all the while. I can only attribute these blessings to God’s grace, the incredible thoughts and prayers of my friends and family, and my intentional prayer practice.

We may have reached the end of this journey, but that certainly doesn’t mean it’s over. When Jesus rose from the tomb it was the beginning of something brand new. I can and will continue to focus on prayer and reflect on what I’ve learned in the wilderness. Let us all go forward together stronger from our journey and ready for the newness that only Christ can bring.

Amen.

by Rob Rawls

Yesterday was a bad day.

Actually, it wasn’t just a bad day. It was a miserably bad day. A seconds-away-from-an-emotional-breakdown, miserably bad day. Of course, now that the work project that was hanging over me is over and I’ve had a good night’s sleep, I can see that compared to a lot of people out there (and probably in our Holy Covenant community) it wasn’t all that bad.

I went to work. I ate breakfast and lunch. I came home to my partner and my dog. I got in my car and went to small group. All of my friends and family were safe and healthy. I didn’t have to worry about where I was going to get my next meal or if I was going to be able to keep my home. So no… Not really that bad of a day.

At the time, though, I wasn’t thinking that clearly.

On my way to small group last night, one of the group members who I car pool reminded me that everything would be better in a couple of hours. “There’s not much that a potluck can’t fix,” she said.

I think she’s right.

We had a celebration dinner during our small group. We didn’t just bring food–we brought our favorite food. We drank sparkling cider and had eggplant parmesan and lasagna and potatoes and salads. We talked about the things that had given us joy over the past few weeks and the things that we could do to create more joy for ourselves and for those we see on a daily basis.

And after that, dessert. Upside down cake. Red velvet cake. Homemade chocolate candies.

Finally we celebrated communion. In a circle, we each had the chance to serve each other and support each other through the bread and cup.

Since Ash Wednesday, I have focused on intentional eating. I have avoided processed foods. I have avoided unethical foods. I have tried to support local food suppliers and small businesses instead of corporations and mass production. Most of all, I have tried to remember the blessing of food.

Last night was a blessing.

When I came home from our celebration dinner, the seconds-away-from-an-emotional-breakdown, miserably bad day wasn’t erased. In a week, though, I’ll have probably already forgotten why I had such a bad day. In a year, I won’t be able to even remember if it was a bad day or not.

I won’t forget the potluck rule, though. I’ll remember that getting together with friends, eating really good food, and opening yourself up for even just a few moments can fix almost anything.

“For these and all God’s mercies, God’s holy Name be blessed and praised; through Jesus Christ our Lord.” – A prayer before meals from The Book of Common Prayer.

by Andrew Schumacher

So here we are moving into Holy Week already. And so it’s time for my final Lenten post. This past Wednesday of fasting was more or less like the previous weeks. It was a day of preparation, not just preparing for the coming passion of Christ, but a day of preparation in anticipation of my wife and I moving on Thursday. So going about my routine, all day long I knew we had our work cut out for us Wednesday night with lots of packing that still needed to get done. Wednesday then, was kind of the calm before the storm. Fasting grounded me in an otherwise hectic time. But then it was time to break the fast and get to work! And oh boy I couldn’t wait to tear open the bag of Leo’s Coney Island takeout we picked up for dinner and start shoveling in hot dog covered with chili.

Food is soooo good after fasting all day…

Here’s the deal. I wish I had a master revelation to share with everyone after carrying out my Lenten master plan. But I don’t think that quite occurred. However, here are some thoughts and reflections from the past several weeks of Lenten discipline that have been floating around in my head and heart.

1. To start, fasting, on a physical level, turned out to be a little easier than I’d thought it’d be. Part of me doesn’t want to admit this to you or to myself because somehow it seems more legitimate, more hardcore, to have to persevere through something really difficult. My body, much to my surprise, tolerated the no-food-only-water thing pretty well. Sure, I was darn hungry all day long, no doubt. But it was a fairly low level hunger, no sharp pains or headache like I’ve had before. When it comes down to it, I can only thank God for sustaining me through in this way. Thanks be to God!

2. When it would come time to break the fast each week, I got very excited for food, which is natural I suppose. But as I would begin to eat again, I sometimes found myself eating with a sort of urgency, or even with a little greed mixed in. It’s as if I felt like I needed to store up extra food for my body. There was something about it that I didn’t like. It felt like my body and mind weren’t trusting the whole “give us this day our daily bread” thing and instead were hedging on God providing that next meal. I’m not totally sure what to make of this feeling, but I definitely found myself saying, “Whoa, Andrew, just be thankful for this meal that God provided. That’s enough for now.” I try to thank God for each meal I consume, but fasting made me realize I don’t always trust enough in each meal being a true blessing from God.

3. Given the “right” circumstances, I actually do enjoy spending time in devotion to God with Bible study and prayer. I qualify with “right” circumstances because I realize that too often I’m trying to shoe horn it in with too many other things going on. And that just doesn’t work. Or, another common theme is that I have trouble staying awake because it’s the end of the day. Here’s where my Lenten discipline of starting Wednesday mornings with Bible study and prayer made a big difference. I was awake! I could be quiet and calm, focusing on God’s presence, without falling asleep! Revolutionary. Most of the time I feel like Jesus’s disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane having fallen asleep each time Jesus comes back to them. Pathetic I tell myself! But then there I go again, nodding off. Surely I can do better about working this time into any given non-fasting day so that I’m awake and alert while showing my devotion to God.

4. Here’s some scripture I came across this past Wednesday. It’s from John 6:54.

“Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink.”

This of course sounded crazy to Jesus’s followers because at the time they couldn’t have understood exactly what he meant. Two-thousand years later, it’s easy to think dipping-the-bread-into-the-cup kind of thoughts when hearing these words from Jesus. But over the course of these weeks I’ve thought more about the **real** aspect of what Jesus offers all of us. When we strive to participate fully in what Jesus Chris offers, we’re given life abundant. Maybe it’s not the life we expected or wanted, or maybe it’s even a life of being hungry sometimes or most times, but it is real living. It is what we were meant for.

I thank God for having seen me through these 40 days and pray that I can open myself up to feasting on God’s abundant life and love. And that will be enough to satisfy my hunger.

Thanks for reading!

by Ronna Case

I missed some days. No yoga and no breath prayers. I’ve been fighting a cold since Friday by sleeping big parts of two days and drinking Emergen-C twice a day. It seems to have worked, because I don’t have the usual major cold symptoms.

As I write this post, it is Tuesday. With sunshine and a view of the blue lake, I began again by praying “Create in me, a clean heart, O God,” with yoga.

Eyes closed sometimes, then open. Distracting thoughts entered, then I would return to breathing and praying. It was like waves, like a dance.

Very nice!

In a few minutes, Brady is coming by to help me with computer issues. I found him again, thank goodness. Through this Lenten time of silence, yoga stretches, and praying, I have felt more at peace about my feeling of information overload. Alvin Toffler wrote about where I am in his book Future Shock in the 80’s. With some help I am hoping to simplify my life and manage data, information, and my projects more regularly and smoothly.

I am feeling good about the process! Even though I missed some days…

Dear Holy Covenant Community,

On this Palm Sunday we begin Holy Week, walking intimately with Jesus towards the cross. We start this journey by triumphantly welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem on a donkey: In the morning services, we’ll first gather in the gallery with palms and then process around the outside of the building, waving our branches and singing “Hosanna!” The poet Mary Oliver, in her book Thirst, contemplates this scene:

The Poet Thinks About the Donkey

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited.
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,
leap with delight!
How doves, released from cages,
clatter away, splashed with sunlight!

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty foot and stepped, as he had to, forward.

May we be like the donkey, grateful that Jesus chooses us, and willing to put one foot in front of the other. The road is dusty and difficult, because we, too, are called to die: die to the things in our life that keep us from growing closer to God and one another. When we’re brave enough to take this journey, we’ll find new life waiting on Easter.

In the tradition of the church, Holy Week is one long worship service, so I hope you will consider joining us for each step. After we welcome Jesus with palms, we’ll sing bluegrass music and turn from the triumphal entry towards the reality of Jerusalem’s cross. Sunday evening, join us for a “wayfarers’ potluck”, as we rest, nourish, and prepare for the journey. Thursday at 7pm we’ll share in the Last Supper, and on Friday at 7 we’ll contemplate the crucifixion, through a service of Passion, silence, and special music. Let us be in prayer for and with one another as we walk through this Holy Week. Like the donkey, we enter this time carrying the love of Jesus and stepping, as we have to, forward.

See you on Sunday, and think about who you can bring with you.

Grace and Peace,
Kate

by Dale Jones

I have been hoping no one other than me noticed my blog post was missing last week. If so, perhaps I should not have called attention to my omission. On the other hand, an old adage proclaims “confession is good for the soul,” and this soul has a lot to ‘fess up to. For starters, any semblance of my Lenten practice has largely evaporated in the last couple weeks.

If I was flunking Lent 101 before, now I was not even showing up for class.

As my schedule deteriorated from somewhat crazy to nearly insane, I failed at every attempt to write last week’s blog. First of all, with my Lenten practice supplanted by working most of my waking hours, there was little inspiring to blog about. Probably there is a spiritual dimension to short-notice trips to meet with a troubled client and the attendant preparations, but I was too absorbed in responding to these unusual, pressing needs to find the Holy. Secondly, each time I made an effort to write the blog entry – usually well past any reasonable bedtime – I fell asleep at my keyboard, awaking after some minutes to find I had typed many pages of the letter “k.” (Not a very meaningful blog entry.) After a few nights of these fruitless efforts, I decided to invoke the grace I hoped was present in a pre-Lent message to bloggers from the Communications Committee: “Your thoughts and views are what is important to us–not making sure that you keep to a strict schedule.” I conceded that blogging was just not going to happen.

Sleep-deprived and somewhat mentally spent, I decided not to cancel a weekend getaway planned weeks ago during an airfare sale. Away from the office and (most of) its unmet deadlines and impending meeting preparations, my Lenten discipline flickered back to life temporarily. I returned to Lexington, Kentucky, a former home for several years, to visit a college-student son and worship with the congregation that was my church family during those years.

Here I did find the Holy.

While many names and faces have changed since I moved from there, St Luke UMC in Lexington remains a vibrant, growing congregation, almost as exciting as Holy Covenant – and that is saying a lot! Pastor Debbie Wallace-Padgett preached poignantly about roll-coasters: her way of illustrating the ups and downs of the Israelites’ relationship with God.

“Yep,” I thought, “my walk with God is roller-coaster-ish right now.”

As my son and I trekked through Raven Run Nature Preserve down to the Kentucky River overlook, then huffed and puffed our way back up the hill, the occasional emanation of wildflowers whispered words of re-creation. This woodland trail felt like it could be the road to Jerusalem. I spent a few hours with cherished friends from St Luke church. One of my friends, at the age where he might have disengaged from church life to focus on his granddaughters and his Social Security checks, was instead pursuing licensing as a local pastor. Bob had always been effective at encouraging and leading others to deeper faith, but his new engagement in disciple-making reminded me it is never too late to begin the journey with Jesus toward Jerusalem.

Returning Monday to the Real World, my weekend Lenten revival succumbed quickly to too many tasks and too little time. There is now no doubt I must repeat Lent 101 next year. In these weeks I have been mostly flailing through the jungle rather than resolutely walking the road toward the Cross.

But from my brief times on that Road, it is clearly the “more excellent way” (1 Corinthians 12:31).

by Maggie Roth

Our Lenten journey is flying by quickly and I find myself somewhat surprised that we are merely two weeks away from Easter. My heart was slightly saddened to discover that we had only two Sundays left to observe the Sabbath, which is quite silly, really. We’ve got our whole lives to observe Sabbath, should we decide to do so.

Looking back, these past two weekends were the spiritual equivalent of opposite day. I’m summarizing them together because last week I skipped a blog post (apologies, my friends), but they really could not have been more different. Two Sundays ago we went to church, ate lunch at home and generally respected all our commitments. It was nice, it was relaxing, we felt prepared to start the week. This past weekend we celebrated our son’s baptism and our daughter’s birthday with our entire family in town. There was little rest and about as much activity as one can pack into a weekend. By the time everyone left on Monday morning we were all (extended family included) deeply in need of a Sabbath. A Monday morning Sabbath.

I found myself wondering what it would be like if our families also observed this practice. Right now, we feel like oddballs, trying to push out the world and huddle together. But if others were in on the game, would we have a sense of connectedness that extends beyond our family? I fully admit I’m big on community. I love a nice big community effort. In fact, one of the reasons I love presidential addresses/state of the union speeches so much is that I love the idea that everyone (okay, not everyone, but a TON of people) are all doing the same thing, we’re all sitting and listening to what our president has to say. Wouldn’t it be nice to know that everyone is at home, trying to embrace their families and find a bit of peace each Sunday?

I still am struggling to put into words how God is working through us. Because this is a well-organized group effort, there are lots of variables and individuals involved. It can be messy. I would like to be able to say that we’ve been taking time for family prayer, but we haven’t. We have taken commercialism out of our Sundays, but haven’t been so great about putting more God back in. I’m trying not to see this as a failure and, instead, acknowledge it as a weakness. I don’t know why, but we tend to pray at dinner and discuss what we’re grateful for that day, but that’s about it. We pray individually, but the group thing feels awkward. I know that we need to work on this together moving forward. It’s a major hole that needs patching.

They say it takes many weeks and even months of meditation before you begin to feel that stirring inside you. I guess I’m starting to realize that it may take the same type of dedication to feel the stirring within us. This is a journey not a small project. I hope we can be in for the long haul.

Love Poured Out
Sunday March 21, 2010
Holy Covenant UMC
Rev. Kate Hurst Floyd
John 12:1-8

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Mary had been told her whole life that she was “too much”. Too much to handle, too much to take care of, too hard to be around. She didn’t quite fit in anywhere she went.

Her head’s too much in the clouds, the young men would always say, calling her “space cadet Mary” so time passed and not a one ever proposed. Your questions are too much for the subject matter at hand, her teachers would tell her. They wanted her to be satisfied with memorizing the Torah, but Mary’s hand, Mary’s hand, too many times shot up from the back of the classroom, asking questions about life and death and mercy and grace that were too much for teenagers to handle. You’re too much trouble, Mary, her father would tell her, repeatedly until the day that he died…grabbing her arm when he got angry, which was frequently, shoving her to the ground when he was the one who had too much—too much to drink. When she applied for jobs, it was always the same: You’re too much of a talker, you have too many opinions, you’re a woman…your kind isn’t welcome here. (more…)

by Vicky Nabors

I have a passion for writing, but writing my blog entry this week has been difficult. I had nothing to say, I’m honestly tired of blogging. It feels like I’m beating a dead horse. Why, because my Lenten journey started at a depth never expected, and then quickly traveled to painful places never imagined. I’m tired of talking about it now, and am simply coasting to the end of my wilderness journey with a lighter load and a smile. It’s a beautiful thing because the sun is shining in my soul.

Praise be to God.

Did I stop cursing, H*## NO! It was never my intention to stop cursing. In my professional area (human communications), it’s believed that words have no meaning until meaning is assigned to them (via intentions). And like most folks, I use strong language when feeling strong emotions. “Fudge” just doesn’t cut when I’m feeling … ahhh!!! That would be like asking for a cup of mild roast coffee when I’m actually feeling a double shot of whiskey.

So, the source of my strong emotions was my true focus. Therefore, I was not giving up anything, I was taking on. Some question I asked myself was: What really contributed to my overwhelming feeling of anger, darkness, frustration, and defeat? Why couldn’t I find happiness in my soul? And how were these debilitating feelings preventing me from getting closer to God?

In an amusing way, I feel like I’ve done a bit of psychotherapy on myself. Guess I should send myself a bill for my services – LOL.

I know I previously stated how difficult it was to share my personal reflection during my Lenten walk in the wilderness; but I was just posturing. People are so deeply private with how they suffer. One thing I’ve learned in my life is that human suffering is more alike than different; but in sharing we support, learn, and heal. However, I am selective in how and where I openly share my struggles; don’t want to run people away.

So here I am today, a week and a half away from the end of my wilderness journey. I can only share my exhilaration with you. You see, I was born into prayer – a PK (pastor’s kid). My elder family members (grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts) modeled prayer to the younger family members morning, noon, and night, during prayer services, Bible study, church services, you name it … we prayed. As a result, my cousins and I mimicked what we saw and heard, and eventually developed our own spiritual awareness of a higher power. Thus, I’ve enjoyed a close relation with God my entire life; he has been my constant comforter. Still, I suspected that something was keeping me from getting even closer – that pure happiness. Got it! Hmph, guess I actually did have something to blog about this week … go figure!

In closing, I want to share a wonderful celebration song; I love it! It’s my sister’s choir in Grand Rapid, MI singing behind Ken Reyonolds as he records his CD, “Great Things.” If you watch carefully, you’ll see my sister. She’s the first extreme close up shot of the singers on mic (wearing all black by band).

Enjoy and God Bless.

Listen to “Great Things.”

The winter session of Small Groups is over, but these on-going groups continue.  Join us!

On-going groups:

Sundays

Women’s Group, 2nd & 4th Sundays
The Holy Covenant Women’s Group meets on the 2nd and 4th Sunday of each month at Pompei, at the corner of Sheffield and Wellington, right at the Wellington Brown Line stop.  Pompei offers wonderful, inexpensive food and beer/wine. It is a drop-in group – no sign up or commitment is required.  The purpose of the group is to provide a fun, casual place for the diverse women of the church to meet, share our stories, and support each other.  It is a great choice for women who would like to feel more connected within the church, especially newcomers to Holy Covenant.  The Women’s Group runs year round and can be attended in conjunction with or in between other groups.

Leaders: Linda Effinger Quinde
Contact: effinger@umich.edu, 630.670.8774.
When: 2nd and 4^th Sundays of the month, 5:00 – 6:45, on-going
Where: Pompei at Sheffield & Wellington, right at the Wellington Brown Line stop

Wednesdays

Sunday’s Scripture
Sunday’s Scripture is a group that meets with the pastor to discuss the text that provides the center of our Sunday worship.  Are you interested in engaging scripture outside of weekly worship? Asking questions of the text? Hearing the insights of others? Going deeper into the word of God? Then this is the group for you! Each week, we will study, explore, and imagine with the Scripture lesson for the Sunday a week and a half away.  Your contributions will help shape the sermon and worship services.  We will ask ourselves: What’s the history and context of this text? How do we relate to the characters in the story? How does this speak to our lives today? Where is God’s voice for us, here and now? Join us as we grow closer to God and one another through the biblical passages that shape our lives as a community.

Facilitator: Kate Floyd
Contact: revkate@holycovenantumc.org
When: Wednesdays, 7-8:30pm
Where: Holy Covenant Gallery
Duration: On-going throughout the year.  You are welcome to drop in.

Thursdays

Theology on Tap
Theology on Tap is an independent gathering of men and women who share an interest in Christian theology and, of course, beer. We are committed to an open discussion of the life and teachings of Jesus and the doctrines that developed in the aftermath of his death and resurrection. ALL are welcome, with the caveat that each individual be respected and treated with dignity and kindness. (We also want to respect the staff and build relationships with them, so please budget in order to leave at least a 20% tip.)  NOTE:  This is an on-going group.  Drop in any week.  Look for us on Facebook at T.o.T. (Chicago).

Facilitator: Jonas Grey
Contact: jonasdavid@me.com
When: Thursday, 7:30 p.m.
Where: The Hidden Shamrock on Halsted at Diversey
Duration: On-going.  Drop in, or commit to going every week for a season.  Bring a friend!

Celebration Choir
Join other singers in preparing music for Sunday’s services – whether you’re an old hand at choral singing, or have mostly sung in the shower.  Bring your own dinner and share a time of fellowship and practice, all with an eye and heart towards worship.  You can check it out any Thursday; commit for a month, a season, or the year.

Leader: Andrew Collins
Contact: acmusic@andrewcollinsmusic.com
When: Thursday nights, dinner and chatting at 7; practice 7:30 – 9
Where: Holy Covenant Gallery

Sign up to join any of these small groups using this online form or by e-mailing groups@holycovenantumc.org.

Saturdays

Holy Covenant Book Group – Last Saturday of every month
Each book will be discussed at the Starbucks right by Church at the corner of Diversey and Sheffield, on the last Saturday of every month at 2pm.  March’s book remains Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood.  April’s selection is Lamb:  the Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal, by Christopher Moore.  May’s masterpiece will be CS Lewis’  the Great Divorce.  Keep an eye on the Church’s Facebook page, and any questions, email Matt.

Leader: Matthew Piechocinski
Contact: matthewpiechocinski@gmail.com
When: April 24, 2pm (last Saturday each month)
Where: Starbucks, Diversey & Sheffield
The books: March – Year of the Flood, by Margaret Atwood
April – Lamb:  the Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal, by Christopher Moore
May – The Great Divorce, by C.S. Lewis