To the Saints in Santa Fe, 2020-2022
These letters from Pastor Harry and church leaders explore the challenges we face as people of faith in a complicated and fearful world, not unlike the world that Paul faced, and not unlike the world that Dr. King faced down.
These letters are distributed to the congregation via our email newsletter. To sign up for our eNews, contact our Office Manager.
December 13, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, of whom at his birth the angels sang “peace on earth.”
We remember the victims of the Sandy Hook shooting.
Tomorrow, December 14, marks the 10th anniversary of the shooting that took the lives of twenty first graders and six teachers. Beyond comprehension. Beyond words. Beyond any notion we might have held of being a peace-loving nation, judging by the way we did nothing in its aftermath to keep our children safe.
I was visiting a church member in a nursing home that Friday morning when news of the shooting spread. The next day my wife Jenny and I attended a vigil where we joined fifteen others at the Agora in Eldorado silently holding candles under darkening skies. Sunday morning I revamped my sermon and invited folks to get involved with gun violence prevention, a cause we had worked on back in Cleveland. On Tuesday seven of us gathered in our home wondering what we could do. A few weeks later we merged with another group in Santa Fe that formed at the same time. While our group had yet to decide upon a name, the other called themselves New Mexicans for Gun Safety, evidently coined to keep things safe and not ruffle feathers. After the church shooting in Charleston, South Carolina, we changed our name to New Mexicans to Prevent Gun Violence.
We have tried to live up to our name ever since. We’ve learned a lot. We’ve faced great obstacles and we’ve made amazing progress. We helped to stop over ten legislative efforts by the gun lobby to increase their influence in New Mexico. We have initiated several programs which have touched many lives, especially youth, who are literally scared to death living in a world we’ve given them. One of our signature programs, Guns to Gardens, has gone national with gun buybacks being held from Maine to California, where unwanted guns are turned into garden tools, musical instruments, and pieces of art. A web of local groups and churches working on gun violence prevention is forming across the country. We are getting to know each other. We’re gaining momentum. We’re all trying to lean into the hope that things will get better, and we’ll all be safer. Soon.
I’ll stop here. Frankly, I didn’t mean to write this much. I planned to simply list the places of gun violence that made the news in the last ten years and add a brief comment. But the list was far too long, and it was personally too overwhelming to imagine the lives lost and others forever altered, even destroyed. All the places. All the people. Far too many to count.
On this tenth anniversary, more than anything, I want to stop counting. Not because I’m turning my back on the suffering and the scourge, but because I yearn for the day when there will be no more gun deaths to count.
Grace and peace,
Harry
December 8, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who is soon to be born into the world once again.
Oh, it’s been way too long since I have written! Apologies all around. Allow me then to make up for lost time and catch you up on a few topics of note.
Like Cuba! I hope you know by now that five of us went to visit our sister church in Sagua La Grande a month ago. It was my fifth trip to Cuba and the first since 2012. Without going into details, suffice to say, a trip like this is always a game-changer, an eye-opener, a heart-starter, and a memory-maker. The pace is slow, the people are lovely, and the Spirit is alive.
Now if you want to get the flavor of what I am talking about, please view the video from our visit.
Next . . . stewardship and pledging. I encourage you to make a difference in the life of this congregation, and its mission and ministry to the world around us, by making a pledge for 2023. Might my dream become reality this year, when every member makes a pledge, no matter how small or large. Many thanks to those who have pledged already! Together we build the Beloved Community.
Advent Creates New People. This phrase by Dietrich Bonhoeffer is guiding our days to Christmas. We become new people when we take Advent seriously and prayerfully. Don’t know how to do this or don’t really know what Advent is about? Then join me for the next two adult education classes this Sunday and the next, 8:30-9:30 am either in the Chapel or on Zoom.
It is so very good to walk with you on this journey to the manger.
Grace and peace,
Harry
October 20, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ.
To mask or not to mask? That is the question many churches are asking now.
While it appears most of society has moved beyond masks and covid protocols, we have
continually tried to discern what is best for our congregation and those who are in our building.
We are most grateful for the members of the Health Committee, chaired by Jim Toevs, and
filled with people of experience in such matters, who have guided us through the entire
pandemic without, as far as I know, anyone getting Covid from coming to the church. Thank
you, thank you!
And now, session decided last night after careful deliberation to lift the mask mandate for all
activities, including worship starting this Sunday, October 23. Wearing a mask will be voluntary,
and your personal choice, with the caution that if there is a surge or a spike in cases, we will
reinstate the mandate. Other Covid protocols remain.
We expect all individuals to be fully vaccinated, boosted including for the Omicron variant, and
will continue to rely on the honor system.
We still encourage social distancing and if you are ill, have a cold, the flu, a fever, runny nose,
sniffles…STAY HOME.
So, there you have it. I can imagine some of you will be relieved with this decision while others
may choose the side of caution and refrain from coming. Certainly, do what you feel is best for
you.
Yet, I still dream of the day when such issues no longer face us, and we can move forward into
our calling to follow Christ and be engaged in the challenges of our day. We live in hope, we
work for better days to come, and will do so, at least for now, without being required to wear a
mask.
Deep thanks for your understanding and for weathering the pandemic thus far!
Grace and peace,
Harry
October 11, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who calls us to care for one another.
Pop ups and stewardship. They go together.
What’s a pop-up? They’re those periodic events sponsored by the Stewardship Committee
where we stand in front of the church on a Saturday morning and collect money or items from
the church and community for places such as Ukraine, coats for a local high school, food items,
etc. They don’t happen all the time but when they do, they have been a tremendous way to be
visible in the community and support worthy causes.
Our next pop-up kicks off our four-week Stewardship season this Saturday, October 15, 10 am
to noon when we will be collecting items for our Child Development Center. Please see in this
E-News the full list of items you can bring. And if you can’t come on Saturday, bring them on
Sunday as you come to worship.
What’s stewardship? It is a word that first appeared in English in the Middle Ages to describe a
person, a steward, who takes care of a large household. In church parlance it has morphed into
a Stewardship Drive where you are asked for money to support the church.
Not too exciting, right? So, let’s expand it a bit:
It’s an opportunity to engage in important work for you and the community.
It’s supporting an amazing and exciting vision. Ours is Building the Beloved Community.
We are investing the resources God has given us to bring love and compassion into the world,
something we seem to be sorely lacking these days.
We are planting seeds. What we do today, and for 2023, will be seen by our children and their
children, and the children of our CDC (back to our pop-up this Saturday!).
Pop-ups and stewardship.
And grace to you and peace,
Harry
September 15, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who welcomes us home with open arms.
My father would be 96 years old today, though he died a few months short of 94. I am in the
long line of folks missing both parents and trying to navigate life without them, and without
their wisdom and advice, their presence, their love. It is strange not to be a son to anyone
living, anymore.
Our story this Sunday, the Prodigal Son in Luke 15, revolves around two young men who still
have a living father. In this iconic story, we see these two sons acting in ways that we might do
ourselves, and our focus is glued to them. All the while it’s the father who shows us how to live
in the best of ways, in the worst of times.
I won’t give it away. Though you probably know what the father does, I still hope you will come
in person this Sunday to see for yourself at our Homecoming Service at 10 am at Federal Park.
Chairs under trees, tables of food and ice cream, Brooke Black’s baptism, new members
introduced, activities for children, bagpipes, trumpets and other brass instruments, the Chancel
Choir, a blessing from a traditional healer, hymns, prayers, a sermon as drama, and hopefully
you.
It’s one of those days when I will remember my own father and find ways to celebrate his life.
It’s one of those days when we can celebrate the life of our congregation.
It’s one of those days when we welcome home all of you who might have been away, with open
arms.
Grace and peace,
Harry
September 6, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who became the subject of many searches through the
centuries.
“Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”
In John 12:20-26 some Greeks come to a festival seeking Jesus. Stories preceding this scene
talk of Jesus’ growing popularity, leading the Pharisees to say with disdain: “Look, the world has
gone after him.” The Greeks pose their request to Philip who, in turn, goes to Andrew and they
both go to Jesus.
But the story never says they went back and brought the Greeks to Jesus.
That’s our story as well. We may seek Jesus, but we have never seen him. But what if we could
meet him? What if we could sit down and talk for a while? What if Jesus could hear our
stories, our questions, our hopes, our lives?
It’s a poor substitute, I know, but for two Sundays, September 11 and 25, we will meet Jesus
the best we can. We will spend the whole hour talking about his life, ministry, teachings, and
the ways that he still impacts our lives and the world. I will lead the class this Sunday, 9:45-
10:45 am in the Chapel and by Zoom, and the Rev. Sansom Williams will host another hour on
Jesus September 25, 8:30-9:30 am (please note the change of schedule beginning that day).
Together we will begin to paint a portrait of Jesus that will guide us through a new Adult
Education series called “The Radical Christian Alternative,” which will look at the way Jesus and
his followers, then to now, have responded to the major issues facing our society and the
world. Each of the three words of the series title are carefully chosen to bring us to a deeper
understanding of our own tradition and the ways we might approach issues such as violence,
exclusion, and climate change, to name only a few of the topics we will discuss.
O, I hope you will join us as we seek to see Jesus this year and hoping as well that he might join
us as we navigate through these challenging times.
Grace and peace,
Harry
August 11, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was known as the Prince of Peace.
How we need his spirit today as our society seems to be drowning in violence.
Truth be told, I wrote a letter to you this morning but tore it up. The words didn’t go deep enough to reach the crisis we are in. Unrelenting wars, dreadful violence, rage, lies, political acrimony, and, even of late, talk of civil war (what?!) in response to the FBI and its search of the former president’s residence.
How we need the Prince of Peace. How we need people to embody nonviolence which gives life to a tired and injured world. I have yet to find a better and more effective response. Nonviolence is not only following Jesus and Gandhi and King, to name three top practitioners and teachers of it, but it is without a doubt the most difficult task we are called to do, and the most courageous.
We can’t and shouldn’t do this alone. That’s why I am very grateful to a new group called Nonviolent Santa Fe (NSF), part of a national initiative by Pace e Bene to enlist cities across the country to promote peace. Bobb Barnes convened this group earlier in the year and it now includes members from across Santa Fe, religious and non-religious alike. Our session voted a few months ago for our church to be a partner.
What does Nonviolent Santa Fe do? Go to their website to get a fuller picture but, in the meantime, here is a sampling of activities: Extreme Risk Firearms Protection Order (ERPO) training on August 16, Kingian Nonviolence Training August 27, weekly vigils by Veterans for Peace, and an invitation to join the Nonviolent Santa Fe Zoom meetings held the first Tuesday of each month. NSF is also developing a 2-hour training as an introduction to nonviolence that they will bring to churches and other organizations.
Maybe you might wish to be involved. Maybe we start a peacemaking group here at church. Maybe it will spur you to think more deeply about how to bring nonviolence into your life. Maybe all these ideas and people and trainings and events will have a profound impact on our city, and on us. I hope and expect they will.
Violence kills and lashes out. It doesn’t care who or what is in its way. But when nonviolence shows up and gets in its way, the dynamics change. Systems begin to change. So do people. I daresay even the world does as well.
Grace and peace(making),
Harry
July 21, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who often dealt with Sabbath issues.
What if we had a day free from the internet?
You know, that hidden power that runs our lives, tells us what we should be doing, gives us much more information than we might ever want or need, and has such control that to even miss an hour or two means more work later, while we still end up feeling guilty for missing it.
Well, for much of yesterday in Santa Fe, the internet was brought to its knees and put out of commission by a dump truck which pulled down fiber lines at the corner of Cerrillos Road and Richards Ave. Say again who brought down the mighty internet? A dump truck?
For customers of Comcast and Xfinity it was like an unexpected day off from school. For many it was, I’m sure, a real headache as financial transactions couldn’t take place, expected work to get done didn’t, and the general inconvenience of not being connected to the world.
If you were one that had the day off, what did you do? Was it an annoyance or was it freeing?
I spoke with clergy colleagues this morning on our weekly Interfaith Leadership Alliance meeting, and they were still basking in the experience. Some read a book for the first time in ages. Another dealt with some long-awaited home repairs. One didn’t do anything, except enjoy a day free of demands. It was a gift, no matter how guilty we may have felt.
What if the church provided such a gift? To be a place of respite despite the world’s troubles. A place to restore our energy so we can better deal with the world’s problems. A place to clear our minds and talk about things that matter most in our lives. A place where we might be able to take a deep breath and be open to some joy coming our way.
Oh, but I get carried away. That was yesterday. Today the internet is back up. All has returned to normal. Things to do. Information to gain. A screen to look at. Work to accomplish. Hours to fill up.
Still, I will remember the day with fondness, when a dump truck helped to remind us of the importance of taking a break, a respite, a Sabbath, and the chance to dream again of what the world could still become.
Grace and peace,
Harry
July 7, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who spent his ministry addressing the needs of the people around him, and the injustices of the empire in which he lived.
My neck is a bit sore from turning constantly to face the next issue before our country and world.
Each time I began formulating a letter to you in response to, let’s just pick one, say, the Supreme Court’s decision on Roe vs. Wade, or handguns in New York, or weakening the power of the EPA (Ok, I picked several), another issue would rise up and eclipse the last one.
And just when I thought that gun violence was being put on the shelf for a bit, then comes the July 4th Highland Park shooting, on a quintessential main street in a beautiful northern suburb of Chicago just a mile south of where I lived in Lake Forest, the place of my first call out of seminary. One more town shattered.
When the world seems too overwhelming, too out of whack, and way too crazy I think of the Old Testament prophets. They have seen all of this before. They spoke up against power and injustice and suffered for doing so. It was a hard and dangerous life. Yet even though none of them applied for the job, they didn’t resign, and they never let down.
Amos is one of these prophets. Amos, of “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” fame. Amos, a shepherd and a dresser of sycamore trees. Amos, the one who called out Israel for being too complacent and its religious leadership for being too cozy and comfortable with the power brokers and their unjust ways.
It is this Amos I am spending time with this week. Although I went to him seeking comfort as well as inspiration for a sermon this Sunday, I am finding he’s not much interested in making me feel better. God told him to “Go!” and stand up to the injustices around him and I have this nagging feeling that we are being called to do the same.
Grace and peace,
Harry
June 9, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whom the early church called Lord.
Jesus is Lord. The word is kyrios in Greek which means, quite literally, the one who owns you. It is a well-known word in our faith lexicon, but such a strange word in our culture (no one owns another person, right?). I will let Diana Butler Bass take it from here:
“In a world where millions were held in slavery and millions of others lived in poverty and powerlessness at the bottom of a rigid social hierarchy, claiming Jesus as ‘Lord’ announced one’s liberation from oppression. ‘Jesus is Lord’ made sense in an empire of slaves, as submitting to his lordship amounted to spiritual freedom, especially in the new community called the church where, apparently, female slaves held leadership positions and Roman social status was upended.”
Does it make sense to use “Lord” today? It seems so wrapped up in male domination, power, and privilege, and we’re trying to free ourselves from that, aren’t we? Why even use “Lord” at all?
Saying “Jesus is Lord” meant you refused to say, “Caesar is Lord.” One was making a political statement. According to New Testament scholar N.T. Wright, “The emperor was the kyrios, the lord of the world, the one who claimed the allegiance and loyalty of subjects throughout his wide empire.”
“Jesus is Lord” is our allegiance and loyalty to a way that is counter to empire and power. It is a radical statement that lifts us above the fray of party politics and divisions, and the grip of violence and the allure of power, and compels us to work for, pray for, and live into a world of equity, justice, and peace.
We proclaim this every time we say the Lord’s Prayer. Recite it again, slowly, and examine the words we all too often say by rote. Recite “Jesus is Lord” slowly, as a mantra, and imagine a world where this is true.
The genius of the early Christians was their ability to take oppressive and life-defeating words and transform them into words that spoke of a new community. How we need such a community now.
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 31, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Spirit is still at work in the life of the Church and the life of the world.” (Book of Order, W-1.0105.)
Ecclesia (accent on the si). This is the Greek word for church.
It is also the name of our summer Adult Education/Acts II gatherings on Sunday mornings, 9:45-10:45, in MacFarland Chapel and via Zoom.
Ecclesia starts this Sunday, June 5th, when we will be the church and respond to the events swirling about the world and in our lives.
We will discuss the events of the day. We will read and study that day’s scripture. We will share our joys and concerns, as well as prayers for the world. We will be the community of faith in fellowship with one another. We will be ecclesia, the church.
Worship, of course, has all those elements along music and liturgy and the offering. But Ecclesia will give us more time to talk and share and learn.
It will take place every Sunday when there is no other Adult Education/Acts II program. Note there are speakers and programs the remainder of June so please watch for the weekly schedule in the E-News.
I hope you will join us this Sunday. It’s Pentecost when we remember God’s Spirit swirling into our lives, forming the church, bringing people together speaking our own language and out of our own experience, and in that and through that perhaps even some transformation takes place. God’s Spirit has a way of doing that. How we need it now.
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 24, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ.
Now, Uvalde, Texas. Reports say fourteen children and one teacher killed at an elementary school.
How long, O Lord?
How long until we stop this madness in our country?
How long, O Lord?
Harry
May 17, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, the one people call Savior.
Jesus as Savior. This is the theme for Sunday’s message continuing the series Freeing Jesus, based on the book by Diana Butler Bass.
If there is any title for Jesus that confuses, scares, and excites people, depending on how you grew up or view people, this is it. Jesus as Savior only shows up twice in Scripture–Jesus’ birth story in Luke and the scripture on Sunday, John 4:27-42–but it has had an outsized place in Church history and theology. It has split the Eastern and Western churches, diverted Christian folk to turn from the world’s needs to the promise of heaven, caused many a heated theological discussion in classrooms and kitchen tables, and left those of us in the church wondering what Savior really means and should we even bother with this notion anymore.
Especially, if you are living through these times.
We often get salvation mixed up with being rescued, but that is not what the word salvation means. According to Butler Bass it comes from the Latin word salvus which means “to be made whole, uninjured, safe, or in good health.” She continues: “It is about this life being healed. In this sense, salvus perfectly describes the biblical vison of God’s justice and mercy, peace and well-being, comfort and equanimity. This is the dream of a saved earth—one where oppression ends, mercy reigns, violence ceases to exist.”
Ah, that feels so much better to me. It’s my motivator to keep working in and through the Church. It’s wanting to be whole and safe and in good health and live a life of integrity in pursuit of Shalom and God’s mercy and justice in the world.
This definition of salvation has little to do with heaven but it sure will make earth seem more like it.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 19, 2022
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was a friend of tax collectors, sinners, and a frightened boy with cancer.
Jesus as Friend. This is the first of six ways we will look at Jesus in our new sermon series Freeing Jesus.
I haven’t thought of Jesus as a friend for a long time. Maybe seminary squeezed that relationship out of me, preferring instead a more theologically sophisticated understanding of the second person of the Trinity, this fully human, fully divine figure, the many atonement theories surrounding him, the focus of our Christology exams and the lead character in the exegesis of gospel passages. Still with me?
But Jesus as friend was the first way I knew him. Perhaps that is true for you as well. I prayed to him every night, with my mom watching over my prayer: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, may love be with me all the night, and keep me safe till morning’s light. Amen.” Jesus would keep me safe; I was sure of it. He was the saver of lost sheep, the one who welcomed children with arms wide, the one who took time to listen to prayers, and who loved me, for the Bible told me so. I think I knew it even without the Bible telling me.
The night before an operation to discover the extent of cancer in my body– I was only 17 and couldn’t understand why this was happening to me—I prayed to God that I might make it through the operation and be cured. As I lay in my hospital bed, frightened, alone, with a streetlamp outside my window casting shadows, I heard a voice (I did, didn’t I?) somewhere to my right by the door, responding to my plight, calming me, and reassuring me, that love would be with me all the night, and keep me safe till morning’s light. And even longer.
Jesus as friend doesn’t linger long in theological debates, nor does he seem interested in being the subject of ordination exams. He would rather stay up late and listen to our fears, accompany us when our tomorrows seem bleak, and stay in touch even when we are too busy or distracted to notice.
Welcome back, old friend, though you’ve been here all along. And that was you, wasn’t it, in my hospital room that night long ago? I meant to thank you for staying up with me. You got me through it and I’m OK now, but then again you probably already know.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 5, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who rode into Jerusalem and people placed their cloaks before him.
This Sunday is Palm Sunday with one service at 9:45 am in the Sanctuary. At 10:15 am a bagpiper will lead a procession to the Plaza where we will hold a worship service with the Cathedral Basilica and Holy Faith Episcopal, with tourists and other plaza-goers mixed in. Like the old days!
We haven’t done this since 2019 and I wonder if Jesus will be any different this time. Will he take a different route now that we’ve lived through a pandemic? Will he come with more urgency, on a horse perhaps, with the war in Ukraine on our minds? Will he hand out leaflets on what this post-pandemic church should look like so we might better use our time?
No, probably not. The story is the same as we have known, yet each gospel gives its own version of the day. In this year’s lectionary reading from Luke 10:28-40, for example, there are no palms, only cloaks spread on the ground. Jesus rides on a colt, not a donkey. No one is shouting “Hosanna” but shout “Blessed is the king” and “Peace in heaven.”
Dig a little deeper into Luke’s story and we find that riding into the city on an animal was contrary to law and custom. Pilgrims were expected to enter the city on foot. Luke notes the animal itself had never been sat upon. Unbroken animals were used in sacred functions. It was also fit for a king because a true king would never sit upon an animal that had been ridden due to the possibility of contamination and disease. Spreading cloaks happened only before a king so he might walk on them.
It sounds to me that something sacred is going on here.
I hope you will join us and line the route and get a glimpse of Jesus as he heads into town. The rest of the week is not pretty, we know the stories to come, but on this shining day we will squint in the sun and get a wisp of Jesus coming towards us as we stand among the crowd, wondering once again if this might be the day the world turns and embraces peace and unity, justice and compassion.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 24, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was seen as the Light of the World.
“I love you, Lord Jesus, . . . you who are a gentle as the human heart, as fiery as the forces of nature, and intimate as life itself. . .. I love you as a world, as this world which has captivated my heart.”
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955), French scientist, Jesuit priest, and mystic, wrote these words on Easter Sunday, 1916, in the battle of Dunkirk where he was a stretcher-bearer in the French army in the bloody trenches of World War I.
How, on a day like that, could he write such words? How, in a day like ours when the humanitarian crisis in Ukraine is worsening, might we even imagine writing something like that? Or even read it without rolling our eyes, or wonder what we are missing in not seeing the world this way?
Teilhard’s love of the world, John Philip Newell says in his latest book, Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul, “was inseparable from his awareness of the world’s sufferings. . . . Love of Christ and love of creation, love of heaven and love of earth, love of spirit and love of matter—inseparably intertwined.” Teilhard continues: “It is this I now see with a vision that will never leave me, that the world is desperately in need of at this very moment, if it is not to collapse.”
What if we were to see the light of the sacred in all things, so that the world might not collapse? In our own day, in its routine, in that which we dread, in images we wish we could turn away from, in bombed out apartment buildings and hospitals, in zoos where animals are frightened, amid war in a far-off country that seems so very close to us?
What if we could be well only by seeing this Light in one another and in the earth?
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 8, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, as we observe International Women’s Day.
Last Sunday we celebrated the gifts of women by looking at Brigid of Kildare who stands at the threshold, or meeting place, of the opposite dimensions of life–light and dark, rich and poor, feminine and masculine—and reminds us of the sacred at the heart of all life.
Today, shaken by war in Ukraine, we look to George MacLeod (1895-1991), a Celtic prophet in 20th century Scotland who often greeted people on the street with “Do you believe in nonviolence?”
In 1938, when the world was preparing for war, MacLeod was preparing to build a community of radical nonviolence. Using theological students and unemployed craftsmen in Glasgow MacLeod set off to rebuild the Abbey on the island on Iona on the west coast of Scotland. In this work he saw the rebuilding of the spirituality of St. Columba and the Celtic Christian vision which embraced the dignity of all humanity and the sacredness of all of life.
How did MacLeod become such a figure of nonviolence and action? He was born into an aristocratic family where, it is said, maids provided menus for every meal. He attended the best schools including Oxford, became a British officer fighting in the trenches of France in WWI, and was decorated for his bravery. It was on a transport train filled with soldiers, many of whom were wounded, that changed the trajectory of his life. Surrounded by suffering, he became aware of the presence of Christ who was not above such pain but in the midst of it. Then and there he knelt down and gave himself to Christ.
After the war MacLeod trained for the ministry and became assistant minister at St. Giles in Edinburgh where his remarkable oratorical abilities soon became known. A rising star in the Church of Scotland, where it was thought he could have any pulpit in Scotland, he instead chose the poorest parish in Glasgow and began a life caring for the poor in the slums of Scottish cities and communities.
On Sunday I will talk more about this remarkable man, his commitment to justice, how he addressed the needs of humanity, the environment, worked on nuclear disarmament, and lived this life of nonviolence. How his voice is needed today.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 1, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who consistently and relentlessly pursued peace.
All eyes have turned to the Ukraine with the fervent hope that peace will prevail. Just how that will happen in the midst of unspeakable violence is yet to unfold but we do know and see that such violence has caused unspeakable pain and destruction.
Might it also wake us up to the critical role of nonviolence?
“War and violence have failed to bring about a world of peace,” writes peace activist Father John Dear in his book The Nonviolent Life. “Creative nonviolence, on the other hand, works wherever it is tried.”
So, let’s try it, and keep trying it, and then when we forget or slide a bit, be reminded that nonviolence works. It is a shared by all spiritual traditions and all peacemakers.
A Wednesday Peacemakers Lenten series begins tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, 12-1, Noon to 1:00 pm, and continues each Wednesday through the Lenten Season on Zoom. Led by the Rev. Bobb Barnes, it will focus on the seventh Beatitude of the nonviolent Jesus, using the John Dear book, The Nonviolent Life. Free copies of the book are available in the church office.
I also call your attention to a new Sunday morning Lenten Adult Ed Class begining this Sunday, March 6th, called “Lent Within a Culture of Violence” with various speakers from across our community. Please scroll down this E-News for a description of the classes.
Join us! There is so much to learn about nonviolence and the time is now to put it into practice. It’s one way we can stand in solidarity with the Ukrainian people and others across the world who are suffering from violence that seems to never end.
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 24, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who taught us the ways of peace.
My heart breaks hearing about the Russian invasion of Ukraine and the unleashing of violence and loss of life that has already begun. At this moment, I am not sure what to do about it, or how to respond beyond the grief I feel about another war in the world.
So, I share another moment that happened yesterday morning. While browsing through the influx of emails which I try to do every morning before meetings and zoom calls begin, I glanced over the subject line of one which read “You won Presbyterian Pe. . ..” Thinking it was just another marketing ploy, perhaps I won a Presbyterian cruise, I mused, having no idea what that means, I moved down the list.
Then Miranda, a good friend and co-president with me of New Mexicans to Prevent Gun Violence, called and casually mentioned that we had won some award from Presbyterian Peace Fellowship. Sure enough, we did.
I went back and read the email: “On behalf of Presbyterian Peace Fellowship, we want to award you with the 2021 Peaceseeker Award! Thank you for your work of peace and justice.”
Presbyterian Peace Fellowship is one of the oldest and most respected peace advocacy groups in our denomination and in the country, doing amazing work since the 1940s on opposing war and nuclear weapons, reducing gun violence, addressing climate change, working for peace in Palestine and Israel, and operating their accompaniment program in Colombia and along our border.
Miranda and I are the 2021 recipients of this Peaceseeker award for our work with New Mexicans to Prevent Gun Violence. Earlier recipients include John Fife, Eugene Carson Blake, William Barber, and Mr. Rogers and we are most humbled to be included in such an esteemed list as we remember their contributions to peace. We are grateful as well for all the volunteers in our group working on gun violence and long-time supporters like this congregation, one of the places in which this group began.
Let us all continue to seek peace. A Wednesday Peacemakers Lenten series begins on Ash Wednesday next week and a Sunday morning Adult Ed Class begins on March 6th called “Lent Within a Culture of Violence.” I hope you will consider being part of these classes.
I’m still not sure what to do about Ukraine. Hopefully these classes will help. Maybe one day, just maybe, the world will cease pursuing war and try seeking peace instead. May it come soon and may we work to make it happen.
Grace and yes, peace,
Harry
February 22, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who led Peter, James, and John up a mountain to pray.
When they got to the top the story became one of Transfiguration, not prayer, and it has mystified and intrigued people ever since.
Transfiguration is an enticing word but if you were to scan Luke 9:28-36, our scripture for Sunday, you will not find it in Luke’s telling of this rather strange story of Jesus and his three companions on a mountaintop where they see Moses and Elijah, get enveloped by clouds, are terrified, hear God’s voice, and keep silent after it’s over. Other Gospels use the word transfiguration, but Luke simply says, “The appearance of Jesus’s face was changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.” No, it is not so much “Transfiguration,” as it is “glory.”
Glory speaks of the presence of God with God’s people and is seen in Jesus’ clothes becoming a dazzling white, as white as those worn by great rulers on festive occasions of state, or like the garments of angels. Glory was the shining face of Moses when, in an earlier encounter, God had spoken to Moses face to face. Glory is the sun shining over the Mount of Olives into the entrance of the Temple and gleaming off the golden walls inside the sanctuary, which it does only once a year on the first day of Spring and was so important to the Jewish people that they called it, “the Lord suddenly appearing in his temple.”
We could rightly call this Sunday, the one which immediately precedes Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, “Glory Sunday.”
The world needs some glory these days. It’s been dwelling in the dark far too long. We could use some glory ourselves, some light to lift the anxiety that has befallen many across our communities with the pandemic and social upheavals. Or glory to shed light on the tremendous challenges facing our society and the wisdom to address them.
You are invited to come to worship this Sunday to feel a little light on your face as we sing and pray and be together. The Rev. Jim Brown, known to many of you as friend, colleague, leader in our denomination, and former pastor of this church, will be preaching and leading the services in my absence as I will be away in Arizona at a gathering with John Philip Newell.
Yet, glory’s address is not necessarily a mountaintop or worship service, but can be right where you are, and who you are. One of my favorite phrases that I have shared often is from second century church leader and Celt, Irenaeus: “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.” Perhaps that’s our mountain to climb.
Grace and peace and glory,
Harry
February 17, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose ministry addressed the needs of the poor and disenfranchised.
The Carmina Gadelica.
It means “The Song of the Gaels” and is a collection of poems and songs from the western islands of Scotland, some dating back to the sixth-century community of St. Columba on the isle of Iona. They are part of an oral tradition passed down through the generations and talk of the sacredness of nature, the changing of the seasons, the rising and setting of the sun, of birth and death and all life in between.
Had Alexander Carmichael (1832-1912) not collected and written down these songs and prayers the culture of the people who prayed and sang them might be lost to us today. Starting in the 16th Century with the Reformation, opposition to Celtic teachings and culture intensified so that its music, language, and poetry was denounced and forbidden. The Highland Clearances in the late 18th through the first half of the 19th centuries tore people from their ancestral lands, weakening the clan system, converting farms from growing food to raising sheep to bring more profit to powerful landowners, all resulting in violent resistance and the destruction of a culture. It was an attack on the very soul of the people.
It is a story all too familiar to indigenous and marginalized people across the world and through the centuries. As Presbyterians, whose roots are in Scotland and whose religious heritage includes this Celtic experience, we share this story.
In a time of great change and challenges, when divisions threaten the fabric of our culture, and its very soul is being attacked, it would be good to remember the poems and songs of the Carmina Gadelica that kept alive a vision of the sacredness of the earth and every human being..
Grace and deep peace to you,
Harry
February 10, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ.
“And heaven and nature sing.” Repeat three times and you’ll start singing as if it was Christmas.
How odd to sing these words in February! We will sing it this Sunday to remind us that heaven and nature are not opposed to one another, nor is the physical opposed to the spiritual. This is one of the central insights of Celtic teaching.
One of the great Celtic teachers is the 9th Century wandering scholar John Scotus Eriugena. He taught that the light of divine is like a subterranean river flowing through the body of the earth and of everything that has being. God is the flow of life in all things (the Greek verb theo means “to flow or run.”).
Everything is a theophany, a showing of the divine.
Seeing everything as sacred was a threat to imperial Christianity and, like Pelagius four centuries earlier, Eriugena’s writings were banished, not only in his lifetime but even seven hundred years later as well!
In our world of opposites and division, when people are often looked upon as a number or a commodity, and the earth is trampled in heartbreaking ways, how refreshing it is to read about Eriugena and his belief that God is the essence of all things.
We will talk about this on Sunday and how this can awaken us to the sacredness of the earth, as well as provide a challenge to the religious, political, and social systems that have, in John Philip Newell’s words, “recklessly ignored or denied this sacredness and are imperiling the very future of the world.”
This is all part of my sermon series called “Reawakening to the Sacred” which will take us through Easter.
And by then I hope it won’t be so strange to hear “and heaven and nature sing” ring out throughout the sanctuary.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 27, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who practiced the sacredness of all life.
Reawakening to the Sacred. This is our theme and our pilgrimage from now through Lent.
John Philip Newell in his book Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul, suggests that “we are in the midst of a great awakening to the sacredness of the earth and the human soul.” Oh, I hope so. I’m not sure how much longer we can keep going down the path we are on.
The good thing is we do not have to invent a new way of seeing and being to help us get out of the mess we are in. This Celtic tradition of seeing all the world as sacred, caring for the earth and one another, and practicing justice and peace, has unfolded in the Celtic world over the centuries, from pre-Christian times to the present.
The term Celts was first used around 500 BCE. The Greeks called them keltoi, or Celts, while at the same time the Romans referred to them as galli, or Gaels. They spanned the entirety of middle Europe from what is now Turkey to the Atlantic coastline of present-day Spain. Today we see its influence in the outer reaches of the British Isles and increasingly, though gradually, in churches in the United States.
The Celtic tradition is part of our Presbyterian heritage but was lost, beaten out of people, put down, disgraced, and banished by those in power, believing if Celtic wisdom was allowed to continue it would be harder to exploit both people and the earth, as empires are prone to do.
Fortunately, it could not be totally beaten out of people because it is part of our very souls. In the last several decades this Celtic wisdom has been rediscovered and provides a way forward to address the immense needs in the world crying out for help.
So, we start, now. My letters to you each week through Lent will introduce you to Celtic teachers and their teachings, and each Sunday I will blend this with scripture in my message and the liturgy. Our Celtic Evensong services on Wednesdays, which John Philip Newell helped us begin over five years ago, adds to our practice and learning.
May we begin to reawaken to the sacred and, by doing so, take our place in building the Beloved Community and healing the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 18, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who opened the scroll, found Isaiah 61, and gave us his blueprint for ministry.
There’s no place for vengeance.
We don’t see this when we read Sunday’s scripture, Luke 4:14-21, because Jesus ends his reading before it gets to the vengeance part. The Spirit of the Lord will be with him. Check. He will bring good news to the poor. Check. He will proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind. Check. Let the oppressed go free. Check. And proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Check, and thank goodness. The end. He rolls up the scroll and gives it back to the attendant. Done.
I wonder if the people in the synagogue caught the omission. Jesus left off “and the day of vengeance of our God.” He closed the book right after reading all about the mercy of God. He stopped Isaiah in mid-verse.
What’s more, the crafters of the lectionary, used the world over, stop the story here and we do not see the reaction of the congregation. Our usual translations show appreciative listeners speaking well of him and his gracious words, but this gives quite the wrong idea. The Greek does not mean words of charm or gracious words but “words of God’s mercy.” In other words, the people in the synagogue were astonished that Jesus spoke of the mercy of God! And what about the vengeance?!
The people we so enraged that they demanded to know by what right did Jesus, the carpenter’s son, have to say these things. How dare he speak this way! So, they moved to throw him over the hilltop.
Prophets get thrown over the hilltop for daring to say such things. Jesus survived this assault from his own townspeople, only to be killed a few years later, spurred on by an angry mob and at the hands of Empire. Martin Luther King Jr. was thrown over the hillside, the last accompanied by a bullet that ended his life. How many others have died working for God’s mercies? How many still will?
When will we stop the violence? When will we abandon vengeance as a proper response?
Jesus says there is a better way. He read it straight out of Isaiah and then put his own spin on it and spent his life teaching us that his message at the beginning, and at the end, and everything in between, is about the mercies of God that we are to live and share with the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 4, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who saw all the world as sacred, belonging to God.
There were Jesus flags there.
Thursday marks the one-year anniversary of January 6th and I am still saddened that Jesus’ name was seen and used in any way for this violent assault on the Capitol.
Yet Christianity has been attached to violence and oppression through the centuries, ever since the Roman Empire took over Jesus’ nonviolent movement in the early 4th Century CE.
In his most recent book, Sacred Earth Sacred Soul, leading Celtic teacher John Philip Newell writes about Pelagius, a monk from Wales (ca. 360-430), who he claims is perhaps the most misrepresented Christian teacher of all time, a misrepresentation that continues to this day.
Pelagius was maligned, banned, and excommunicated for believing that what is deepest in us is of God, and not opposed to God (which was the official stance of the Roman Empire Church). His theological opponent was St. Augustine of Hippo (ca. 354-430) who was, Newell writes, “preparing the ground for imperial Christianity’s doctrine of original sin, the belief that at birth we are essentially bereft of God rather than born of God—corrupted, not sacred.” Such a stance, it turns out, was convenient for imperial power as it allowed for the exploitation of both humans and nature.
What harm this has done through the centuries since! Instead of original blessing, we have original sin. Instead of seeing all of creation as sacred–people, animals, nature alike–we are witnessing the effects of seeing the world as profane, competitive, with little regard for others, and to be used for our own desires.
Pelagius counters, “When Jesus commands us to love our neighbors, he does not only mean our human neighbors; he means all the animals and birds, insects and plants, amongst whom we live.” God’s spirit is in all living things. How far we have strayed.
Imagine what the world would be like if we took this to heart, and believed God’s spirit is in all things? Imagine how we would then treat one another? I might even imagine there would be no January 6th as we have come to know it now. It would just be an ordinary day when we lived in peace, cherished the common good, and looked out for one another and all creation.
Grace and peace,
Harry
December 28, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who has inspired people through the centuries.
An Archbishop from South Africa died this week at the age of 90.
Desmond Tutu. Truth and Reconciliation. Stood up to Apartheid. Helped to free his country. Inspired people across the world. A ready smile and infectious laugh. Tough as nails. Spoke of, wrote about, and lived the power of God’s love.
When I heard of his death Sunday morning during the first service, I should have paused our prayers, run from Pope Hall to the back of the sanctuary and tolled the bells for all to hear. They should still be tolling.
I never saw a report of his death in the news I look at each morning on my phone. The New York Times, Washington Post, CNN, The Guardian, the Atlantic, USA Today, Lost Angeles Times, many others, did not mention it. At least on my phone, it never showed up, though I did hear a segment on the radio. Regardless, it wasn’t enough. It isn’t enough.
We should never forget about this amazing man and the life he lived. How he changed South Africa, and the way we understand the importance of truth and reconciliation in the aftermath of the dark days of Apartheid.
Ask our own Andrew Black who worked with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa and met Bishop Tutu. A photograph shows both of them smiling into the camera.
Ask anyone who has ever stood up and spoke out against oppression. Ask anyone who has ever struggled for human rights. Ask anyone who has ever tried to love their enemy. They will tell you about Bishop Tutu and how important he was in their lives.
Ask anyone and everyone who has met Bishop Tutu and they will tell you he treated them like they were the most important person to him in the world, at that moment.
I never met him, though I ever so wish I had. Still, we all have his legacy. And his inspiration. And his words in our hymnal written to a tune by John Bell, the writer of many Iona songs:
“Goodness is stronger than evil; Love is stronger than hate; Light is stronger than darkness; Life is stronger than death. Victory is ours, oh, victory is ours, through the God who loves us.”
Grace and peace, and deep thanks for the life and work of Desmond Tutu, who taught us the strength of goodness, love, light, life, and God’s love.
Harry
December 23, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, of whom angels break into song.
“Glory to God in the highest.” Raise your hand if you feel like saying that this year. Anyone?
Christmas Eve is tomorrow, and the forecast is rain. News radio talks of Covid, endlessly, and the January 6th investigation. We miss family and friends. An article in the New York Times this morning states it best: We grieve our old normal.
But did you hear? The angels are still singing this year. Despite everything going on. What’s more, these messengers of God (that is the literal translation of an angel) sing at night to a desperate, distraught, and depleted world.
“Glory to God.” Irenaeus in the 2nd century said this means “a human being fully alive.” I love that phrase. It’s a good question to ask ourselves this year. Are we?
“In the highest.” We’re not talking here about cathedrals and robed choirs and kings and majesty. Highest mean that God has come up with another plan to save humanity by coming down to our level through a baby born to poor parents in a backwater town. Here, the lowest become the highest. Here, the angels sing.
I think the angels are giving their best concert of the year. And just in time. In a world that chatters endlessly about violence and hatred and strife, and in a church where we wonder what we have to offer the world if we can’t do what we’ve always done in the past.
What we have is not a commodity to sell but an angels’ song. When we suspect the world is unraveling God lifts us up through the joy of a baby, and new birth, and the hope and promise that that God will never, ever let us go.
That’s worth singing about. Even if it’s in the rain tomorrow night. Even if it means we need to adapt and improvise to stay safe. And even if we all can’t be together, rest assured, the angels still will sing.
Peace and joy,
Harry
December 7, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, about whom angels sing good news of great joy.
This whole joy thing is difficult anytime, but especially this time.
Today we remember Pearl Harbor. Today we try to get in the Christmas spirit. Today we read and hear our daily news and it will probably be little different than yesterday. So much for joy.
The prophet Zephaniah was experiencing one of these times, our times, in the first two chapters of his Old Testament book (in the Minor Prophets section) when he recounted “The Day of the Lord” as one of darkness, not light, when human expectations are shattered. Other Old Testament colleagues shared similar stories on what it is like to be human.
How are we supposed to be joyful when even God can’t get in the spirit?
I don’t know about you, but I simply can’t conjure up joy. Believe me, I have tried but joy seems indifferent to my bidding. We can sing all the carols we want, watch comedies full-stop on Netflix, and eat spoonful after spoonful of ice cream, but joy isn’t impressed.
As is often the case, perhaps we are looking for joy in all the wrong places. What if joy resides deep in the heart of God? What if joy is something we can’t find ourselves, but is something given to us by God? No carol, movie, or ice cream will bring us the joy we are looking for. No amount of good we do will guarantee that joy will appear, despite how hard we might try.
The people did nothing to warrant Zephaniah writing about God singing with joy in chapter 3. Many scholars suggest these later verses were written after the Exile when the people had returned home from Babylon. God started the tune and invites us to sing along, and rejoice, and remember that we are God’s own, renewed and restored.
I especially like the phrase “let not your hands drop,” where dropped hands in those times meant utter despair. Scholar Margaret Odell suggests this envisions a new way of being. Though there is still evil in the world we are strengthened by God’s presence, no longer paralyzed by fear, but ready to sing, shout, and rejoice.
And to light a third candle, a pink one, that defies the darkness and gloom. We’ll do that this Sunday, despite the news of the day’s events, and because of the awful things going on the world. God is still singing with joy, Zephaniah assures us, and invites us to learn the tune.
Thanks be to a joyful God, this Advent, this Sunday.
Harry
November 16, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who calls us to live
“Our jaws should drop open in amazement,” the late religious commentator Phyllis Tickle said at an Emerging Church conference in 2013. “I think we’re seeing a shift in Christianity as dramatic as that first Pentecost wildfire.” She died two years later and did not witness the jaw-dropping world we live in now, pandemic and all.
I love her words. Jaw-dropping. Amazement. Dramatic. Wildfire. Would you describe today’s Church in these ways?
I hope we will, if not now, then soon. The early church was jaw-dropping in its vision, amazing that it survived the Roman Empire and empires since, and dramatic in the ways it changed people’s lives and the world. It could only be described as a wildfire.
Phyllis Tickle also said we are entering “The Age of the Spirit,” and I am intrigued and excited where, if true, this age might take us.
For us, this year, it is taking us to the Beloved Community, that great vision of a just and peaceful world. I hope you will respond generously to our Pledge Campaign for 2022 as we continue to build this Beloved Community and counter the destructive rhetoric and behavior in our society. The task is immense, I know, but I trust in this age of the Spirit, in these jaw-dropping, amazing, dramatic, and wildfire times, that God’s love will prevail.
Please join us this Sunday, November 21, in person or online, when we will be collecting and blessing our pledges (please call the church if you need a pledge packet). Together, we can make a real difference in addressing the challenges and needs of our world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
Note: This is my 200th letter to you since the beginning of the pandemic. Thank you for reading!
October 26, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who healed a blind man on the way to the cross.
What if I told you that, as followers of Christ, we are part of God’s healing in the world?
What if I added that what we do makes a huge difference in the world?
What if I countered all this turmoil and dissention in the world, and all the naysayers that are certain nothing good can come out of today, with the audacious suggestion that there is a way?
Well, I am doing that today. Yes, we can. Yes, we can because the blind beggar, when hearing that Jesus was close, threw off his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus.
If you recall the story from last Sunday, Bartimaeus, literally “Son of Honor,” is still blind when he does this. He only has the promise that Jesus called him. Even so, he cast off his only possession (if you are blind that is a foolhardy thing to do!), sprang up (when was the last time you acted in such a way?), and came to Jesus.
What if we, like Bartimaeus, expected good things to happen? Expected God to heal him? Expected that he would see, and that sight is possible even though we live in dark days?
God is healing still.
In the coming weeks we will have the opportunity to throw off our cloak, spring up, and follow Jesus during our Annual Pledge Drive, November 7-21. The theme is “Building the Beloved Community.” Notice it is not “we have built,” or “we are almost done building,” or “look how pretty it is now!” There is much work to be done. Indeed, such a lofty vision as the Beloved Community is ever and always before us, and always something we strive for.
I believe we need to work for and live into such a beloved community. I believe the world needs this as much or more than we do. What I don’t believe is, that since it seems so far away, and so hard to get to, that we shouldn’t try.
What if I told you that, as followers of Christ, we are part of God’s healing in the world?
Grace and peace,
Harry
October 21, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who saw all life as belonging to God.
“The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world” (John 1:9).
John Philip Newell, whose blessing we recite every Sunday, tells of a presentation he gave in Ottawa many years ago using this verse from John’s prologue. He talked of how Celtic Christianity invites us to see the light of God in everyone and in everything. A young Mohawk elder was invited to be there specifically to observe the connections between Celtic and Native wisdom and then stood and spoke with tears in his eyes.
“As I have been listening to these themes, I have been wondering where I would be tonight, I have been wondering where my people would be tonight, and I have been wondering where we would be as a Western world tonight, if the mission that had come to us from Europe centuries ago had come expecting to find light in us.”
I think of this as we wrestle with issues surrounding the history and treatment of our Pueblo neighbors in our Sunday morning Adult Education/Acts II class.
I think of this as we discern God’s calling in a time of a Pandemic.
I think of this as we struggle as a nation to understand how we treat each other.
There is so much fear and anxiety. So many beliefs clashing against each other. So much hatred spewed forth on social media and in public discourse.
Imagine where we would be if we saw the light of the sacred in the “other” and in our world?
I have not written to you for almost a month as my time and thoughts have been drawn back into the busyness of modern living and trying to figure out how we might regain being church. I realize now that I have been searching for ways to see light, that light in each of us that enlightens the world.
In the coming weeks, maybe months, I will be sharing ideas you have shared with me, and those I have witnessed and read about, that might help us a congregation chart our path forward, so that we might be people of light, and share that sacred light with the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
September 23, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who calls us to love one another and the world.
Building the Beloved Community.
You will be hearing a lot about this phrase in the coming weeks, and much longer. It is the theme of our Pledge Campaign this fall, but it is more than that. It encompasses a wide vision for the church, from our current Sunday morning Adult Ed/Acts series Matthew 25 Today to how we look at ourselves, the way we experience church, and how we live in the world.
The phrase Beloved Community was coined by philosopher-theologian Josiah Royce, founder of the Fellowship of Reconciliation, in the early 20th Century. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was a member of this organization and brought deeper meaning to it, first with the Montgomery bus boycott, and then to the Civil Rights struggle which he saw as the realization of the Beloved Community.
The Beloved Community encompasses ideals and goals such as caring, compassion, non-violence, reconciliation, elimination of poverty and hunger and all forms of racism and violence. In the words of Coretta Scott King, it is “a state of heart and mind, a spirit of hope and goodwill that transcends all boundaries and barriers and embraces all creation.”
I see it in the work we are already doing, in our mission and advocacy work, in our blessing of the children each week in worship and in our Child Development Center, in our music and education programs, in Andrew’s Installation service last Sunday. And so much more.
Yes, building this Beloved Community is a tall order. Building it in a world such as ours seems even more daunting. But let’s begin, and begin again, and build on what we are doing already, and see more ways to be faithful, and live in community, and care for one another and do so in the spirit of Jesus who indeed can make all things new. Let’s go deeper and farther than we’ve ventured before and see where it takes us.
Addressing the deep, systemic problems of the world requires a bold vision. There’s been too much tearing down of late. Let’s begin to build, build upon what’s already been done, and join others in building, the Beloved Community.
Grace and peace,
Harry
September 21, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who calls us to ministry.
If you missed it, here is what you missed.
A perfect day. The trees doing their best impression of a cathedral. The mountains watching from balcony seats. The grass, rare as ever in Santa Fe, beneath our feet while sitting on folding chairs. The wind stirring things up, blowing loose bulletins around, and settling down again.
A bagpiper leads a procession of northern New Mexico. Most are Presbyterian clergy, though many are not, and, together in black robes and red stoles, we make our way to the front row through chairs, now in disarray to avoid sun splashes through the cathedral branches. The pipes sing of amazing grace, of beautiful Scotland, of a beautiful faith.
People speak. Those in robes tell stories, lifting joy for all to see, and filling open spaces with hope and possibility. A few dogs sleep among the chairs, content. Tears well up in my eyes several times, brimming with the unmistakable feeling that something new and big and wonderful is happening here.
One tells of how he had once lifted up a child in baptism some forty years ago, and now he is charging this very same child, now grown, now a pastor, now newly installed, to love God and all the people here, and everywhere else.
Gifts are given, prayers presented, the sun is shining, and the wind is stirring something grand.
At the end, before we greet each other and paper bags of cookies and Texas sheet cake are dispersed, this same forty-years-ago-baptized pastor stands before us all, with his wife and baby daughter next to him, and gives a blessing.
For those moments, in that afternoon of blessing, there was no place else I would rather be.
Welcome Andrew Black! Welcome, Andrew, to this ministry as Associate Pastor. Welcome to our homes and into our lives, into these days of confusion and mayhem, and when things seem alright again. Walk beside us, and before us, and behind us, in the many joys and challenges of following Jesus.
Your Installation Service this past Sunday was an extraordinary experience. I, for one, can’t wait to see where we go from here. And I wouldn’t it miss it for the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
September 17, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was willing to change course.
Before his encounter with the Syro-Phoenician woman in Mark 7, Jesus’ ministry was only for the Jews; afterward, its scope would be the entire world.
Jesus changed his mind following this Gentile woman’s persistence in pleading for him to heal her daughter, but it wasn’t easy. Already in the most dangerous territory for a Jew, Jesus then crisscrossed Gentile lands from Tyre to Sidon to the Decapolis, then Magdala near Capernaum, reversed direction to go back north to Caesarea Philippi, then to a mountaintop and the Transfiguration, and back down again to Galilee.
Change takes us to all those places as well, as the pandemic persists that we look anew at the scope and practice of our own ministry. Try as we like, we are unable to do the things we did before and by no means is this easy. We can’t stay safely in Galilee anymore.
So, with Session’s approval Wednesday night, I will be gathering a small group of people to look at how we do ministry in a pandemic world, assessing the areas that call out for change, while gathering your ideas and those of colleagues and experts across the country on how to be most effective and faithful in these times. We will bring our recommendations to session by January.
Today’s ministry requires us to adapt, be flexible, and cultivate resilience.
One present example: Beginning September 26, Adult Education/Acts II will meet 8:30-9:30 and worship 9:45-10:30. In the name of health and safety, this temporary switch will take advantage of better sun and warmth later in the morning and allow us to stay outside to worship longer into the fall. We will continue Worshiping at 11 am in the Sanctuary.
As we see with Jesus, it is always a journey. May we seek to remain faithful as change swirls all around us and teaches us new ways we can be church.
Grace and peace,
Harry
September 10, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who continues to teach us how to live.
Jesus sighed.
That’s what it says in our Scripture on Sunday, in Mark 7:34, when Jesus is about to heal a man who is deaf and has an impediment in his speech.
Jesus talks, walks, tells stories, eats, rests, confronts, and heals, but he only sighs here and in chapter 8. That’s all. I wonder why, especially since I find myself sighing all the time with the state of our world. I realize I am a “sighing man” from way back, and my sighing is working overtime of late.
My latest sigh has stretched out since the day the country closed down in March of 2020, and how the pandemic has been altering our world, in significant ways, in tragic ways, in church ways, ever since. It even closed down the church last weekend.
To keep this sighing at bay I started writing to all of you. Since March 17, 2020, through posts called “For this Time” to my current “Letter to the Saints,” I have written to you 193 times, commenting on our times, how scripture can guide us, and how we might continue to believe that God is with us still, no matter how terrible and uncertain these times have proven to be.
Five words kept surfacing throughout: adaptable, flexible, creative, resilience, and kindness. I want to take these words with us into this uncertain future of ours. Indeed, I hope they have already hitched a ride, because they will help us see another, brighter day. We will be a better church and better people because of them.
We used them last Sunday when we had to make the hard decision to close church due to some pandemic precautions. Thank you for your understanding (wait, I think that’s another one!). We’ll use them again as we come back to church this Sunday for both services. If you cannot come, you are invited to join us by live-stream for the 11 am service.
Note: Because the weather looks good for Sunday, we will continue to hold our 8:30 Morningsong service on the Rooftop Garden, and will do so as long as the weather holds out.
So, let’s doing some sighing together, not just for what has happened to us and the world around us but for the good things that are still to come.
Grace and peace,
Harry
August 27, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who worshiped God, “as was his custom” (Luke 4:16).
Welcome back to worship, pandemic-style!
Since July 4 th , we have held both Sunday services, the Rooftop Garden service at 8:30 am and
the 11 am Worship in the Sanctuary, and it has been so good to be back in person!
Yet, there have been changes, as you may have noticed, and there will be more as we respond
responsibly to Covid and its variants and the current spike in cases. With the steady wisdom of
our Health Task Force comprised of church members who are in the medical and science fields,
and who keep on top of the latest Covid news, we have been safe thus far. It’s an admirable
record which we plan to continue!
- So, here is the latest for you to know should you wish to come to worship this Sunday (I can’t
say “and every other Sunday” because we don’t know yet what the advice will be then):
To insure safe-distancing chairs on the Rooftop Garden will be placed farther apart, and
blue tape will mark off every other row of pews in the sanctuary. - Masks shall be properly worn at all times in the church building. We have extras at the
entrances should you forget yours. Please make sure you wear it properly, snug over
the mouth and nose. The only ones not wearing masks are those who are singing
the anthem and the worship leaders when they are leading. In the Sanctuary there
is a safe distance between the chancel and the pews. We have fans blowing in fresh
air from the balcony. - We will sing only two verses of each hymn.
- We ask during candle lighting that you remain a safe distance apart as you stand in
line. - We have offering boxes by the doors of both worship spaces.
- Following the services, we ask that you greet each other outside in the fresh air.
- As we are a community which cares for the well-being and safety of all, session
continues to expect people who attend worship to be vaccinated. - Should you wish to stay home you can watch the service live on our You Tube channel
or view a tape of it later at your convenience.
I never dreamed that worship could be so complicated and difficult, just to do so safely. Then I
think of all the Christians throughout the centuries who suffered for their desire to worship
God, sometimes because it was illegal, and sometimes because Christianity was a threat to
those in power.
May we, then, be no threat to one another as we worship, do so safely and joyfully, and be
open to the winds of God’s spirit in our lives today.
Grace and peace,
Harry,
July 27, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who calls us to ministry by following him.
There is great cause for rejoicing!
On July 18, the congregation unanimously approved the Rev. Andrew Black as our new part-time Associate Pastor. This comes after the Associate Pastor Nominating Committee recommended Andrew following an extensive process guided by Presbytery; after the pandemic slowed down the process which started in late 2019 and approved at a congregational meeting in late January 2020; and long after I came to Santa Fe in late 2011 with the promise of an Associate Pastor to assist all of us in carrying out the church’s mission and ministry.
Yes, this is a time for great rejoicing!
Andrew will begin in mid-September. We will hold an Installation Service on Sunday, September 19, when he will be officially installed as Associate Pastor.
The Search Committee spent many hours developing a list of duties which includes work with youth and young families, support for the mission and social justice ministry and its outreach to the community, further develop initiatives to bring the church’s message to the community, worship and preaching, assist with pastoral care, and perform other pastoral duties and administrative responsibilities, as assigned.
Between now and September we will be working to fine-tune these responsibilities so that Andrew and I cover all areas of the church’s ministries in ways that best utilize our skills and experience. (Note: It’s part-time right now, planning that he will become full-time at a later date, so please adjust expectations that Andrew will be with us everywhere, all the time, from the start!)
I like what the Search committee wrote when considering this position: “It will address the challenges and needs of our society through a ministry that is authentic, adaptable, risk-taking, relevant and courageous.”
The pandemic has taught and reminded us that we must continue to be agile and open to new forms of ministry that will stretch us and challenge us. As Covid is ticking upwards, again, with the Delta variant and society struggling to come to terms with masks and vaccinations, we all will need to be fluid in living out our faith, as we have been these many months.
All the more reason to celebrate Andrew’s new call, one that will help us live into the vision before us. I am so very excited about the church and its ministry, now and in the years to come.
Grace and peace,
Harry
June 24, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who offers us insights into God’s spirit.
Sabbath Moments.
Today is the final day of these weekly videos hosted by Jeannie Bowman who, since April 23, 2020, has been faithfully offering these Sabbath Moments each Thursday in our E-News.
The title aptly describes what they have been about: moments each week to ponder and learn the profound beauty of Sabbath insights and practices. O, how they have been needed during this time, and how they have enriched and sustained our lives.
In a time when life was upended with the pandemic, Sabbath Moments calmed us down.
When change was happening all around us, and within us, Sabbath Moments offered enduring wisdom.
When the news was all too much to bear, Sabbath Moments made things bearable, at least for those moments we watched, and hopefully for far longer.
In the ordinary rhythm of our days, they have been a reminder that life has so many extraordinary things to see and experience.
So, thank you, Jeannie, (and to your husband, Darryl, who was most often behind the camera!) for your loving attention to God’s spirit in our lives, for sharing your insights and your passion with us, for taking the time to put these Sabbath Moments together, and for doing them so very well.
While new videos conclude today, the whole series is available to watch again on our Sabbath Moments webpage and in the Sabbath Moments playlist on our YouTube channel.
Grace and peace, and may the gift of sabbath moments be with you, and sustain you.
Harry
June 18, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who always found a time and a place to worship God.
Why worship?
The Babylonian exiles returned to Jerusalem and the first thing they did was worship. They rebuilt the altar and the Temple and couldn’t wait to do burnt offerings (Ezra mentions burnt offerings five times in the first six verses of chapter 3) morning and evening.
I might have talked to a real estate agent first, or opened a bank account, or searched for a good coffee shop for a chai tea latte. Worship may have come a bit later. Like when Sunday rolled around, or when I got around to seeing if there was a Presbyterian Church nearby.
But the exiles had worship on their minds. Was it because they felt God was responsible for bringing them home? Was it because worship had something to do with their feelings of worth and well-being? Was it to experience God’s presence through rituals and singing? Did they yearn to experience the sacred in their lives? Was it a way to offer thanks? Or was it to feel good again, be part of a community, together finally, at home in a physical space but also an emotional and spiritual one as well, giving them a place in the world?
I suspect any, or all, and other reasons, apply to us as well.
For two Sundays we have gathered on the terrace in front of the sanctuary doors at 11:00 am for around thirty minutes to Worship on the Triangle, standing or sitting (please bring a chair, if you wish) under a beautiful tree. We’ll do this for two more Sundays.
This Wednesday, June 23, 5:30-6:00 pm, we will be resuming our in-person Celtic EvenSong Service in the Sanctuary.
And yes, we will be returning to in-person worship Sunday, July 4, at 8:30 am on the Rooftop Garden and 11:00 am in the Sanctuary (Hallelujah to both!).
Why worship? Come and find out, again.
Grace and peace,
Harry
June 15, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose Church has produced many saints.
One was Dean Lewis. He passed away yesterday morning.
Dean was a force, no matter where he was or what he was doing. I first heard his name when my church in Ohio became a sister church to the Presbyterian Church in Caibarien, Cuba. Dean was one of the people who made that happen in our denomination. It was “Dean this,” “Dean said that,” “Dean said we should do this instead,” and it always worked. When Jenny and I first arrived in Santa Fe over nine years ago, we were thrilled to meet Dean and his wife Marianne, and enjoy a meal at their home located on the way to Ghost Ranch.
Over lunch we heard stories of Dean’s amazing career in the Church. He and my Dad were born in the same year, 1926, and were classmates at Yale Divinity School. While Dad served local congregations across the country his entire ministry, Dean worked in the various levels of the Presbyterian Church. Notably, he was founder and executive secretary of the Presbyterian Cuba Connection (1996-2018), long-time General Assembly director of the Council on Church and Society, and Program Director at Ghost Ranch for many years. He was always working to free people from racism and injustice, always organizing, always inspiring others.
So, I ponder Dean’s death as Father’s Day approaches. It will be the first Father’s Day without my own Dad, having passed away last July. Now, Dean. A generation is passing, those who lived through World War II, entered seminary at the dawn of a golden age when church was an integral part of society, responded to the challenges of the 1960s and 70s (Dean was on the Presbyterian response team following the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham), guided the church through controversies and downturns and remained faithful still. They served the Church, and did great things for it, skillfully and lovingly.
Thank you, Dean, for all the wondrous things you have done in your illustrious life. Thank you, Dad, and all those servants of the church in your generation. The baton is ours now. May we run as you did. May we take up where you left off. May we be faithful still.
Grace and peace, with great thanks,
Harry
June 8, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who saw, and spoke of, the unity of all people.
When the Babylonian exiles returned, they gathered as one person in Jerusalem, so says Ezra 3:1.
Wait! One person? The entirety of the previous chapter states there were 42,360 people who returned, some even mentioned by name and town. How in the world could this many people be looked upon as one person?
It must have puzzled the translators of the New Revised Standard Version, the version of the Bible we use at church, because “as one person” is omitted. Many other translations keep it in and, by doing so, it becomes a radical statement for our day and circumstance. We don’t do anything, say anything, or believe anything “as one person” in our society, whether it be January 6th, the last election, voting rights, gun violence prevention, the environment, infrastructure, immigration. Pick a topic and we are divided. And it is paralyzing us.
That’s why I am so intrigued by this “as one person” phrase, why it was put in and why translators chose to take it out. I liken it to the phrase “common good” which we seem to have taken out of our vocabulary in recent years. How do we know the “common good” when we hold so little in common?
So maybe we start here, then include Ezra chapter 2, and acknowledge all the different people, their names and towns and families, and try to see them “as one person.” One of Thomas Merton’s famous insights might help. On the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in downtown Louisville, he said “I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all these people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers.”
Might Fourth and Walnut be for us Grant and Griffin streets as we gather this Sunday morning at 11 am for worship on the triangle, under the tree, in front of the sanctuary doors, in-person, seeing one another again?
I don’t know if we’ll regard all of us gathered there “as one person,” or have Merton’s awareness, but merely coming together is a start, and how good that will be.
Grace and peace,
Harry
June 4, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ,
Welcome back!
On Tuesday it will be exactly fourteen months since we had out last worship service together. I’ve been counting the months, and the days (453 . . . I just counted).
It’s a long time, but not as long as the exiles in Babylon. In 605 BCE, King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon laid siege to Jerusalem resulting in three deportations—597, 587, and 582 BCE.
The leaders were the first to go but a majority of the Jewish population in Jerusalem was eventually taken away to a strange and foreign land, until King Cyrus of Persia freed them in 539 BCE and they were able to return home.
Just as the exiles did not return all at once (some came back as late as 520 BCE.) we won’t either. We are starting gradually and carefully, first with “Worship on the Triangle” this Sunday at 11:00 am. Then we’ll come back to the sanctuary and to the Rooftop Garden, including our Celtic Evensong Service. The rest of the church is and will be opening up.
No one is quite sure what our church experience will look like going forward. Perhaps the only things I am sure of is this: we are different people than we were 453 days ago, and this will have a profound and positive effect on our church community. I am very excited about who we have become and what that means for our own lives and for the world.
As we return home, I hope that the first word on our lips is yes, and not no. I hope we will be open to the changes before us. I hope we will listen to new ideas. I hope we will be open to the winds of God’s spirit.
And may our next word be thanks!
Thank you all, from staff to session to the CDC to all of you who have been on zoom calls, watched our worships services, stayed in touch with members, prayed for one another and the world, continued your giving and your service to others, and kept the faith.
Yes, thank you, welcome back!
Grace and peace,
Harry
June 3, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose God is creating something new.
They “made a beginning.” That’s what it says in the Book of Ezra, nestled in chapter 3, when the exiles from Babylon returned home to Jerusalem, to their homes, and to the Temple.
If I were in their shoes (sandals?) would I want to go back to the way things were before they were carted away some sixty or seventy years earlier? Most were probably born in Babylon, knew nothing else, while the few who remembered Jerusalem probably had grand visions of what it once was, not the ruins they saw before them.
Wasn’t it a better time back then (no matter when that better time was)? Memories often do that, not always, but often. Memories keep us in the past, keep us doing the same old things in the same old ways because it must have been better then, right? Remember the Hebrew slaves who, in their wilderness wanderings, thought it better to be back in Egypt, in slavery?
Surprisingly, the exiles didn’t think that way. Instead of reaching back to the past they “made a beginning.” How might we “make a beginning” as we return from our own pandemic exile?
The previous chapter recounts, painstakingly but lovingly, all the people who returned, many listed by name, attached to a town, followed by the number of their descendants, totaling thousands upon thousands. Do we remember the people in our community, and honor those who went before us?
Restoring the altar and Temple was a community project–no one person instigated it–as if worship was such a part of them that they simply did it. Is this how we look at worship, as essential, as a place for all of us, while making room for people not like us?
Making a beginning can be joyous. Ezra tells us all the people gave a great shout, singing and praising and giving thanks, when the foundation was laid, but others who had seen the original temple wept with a loud voice. Weeping and shouting blended together. There’s room for both. Can we be ourselves in the joyous times as well as the weeping times?
Come then, after fourteen months in exile, and return this Sunday at 11 am outside the doors of the sanctuary, on the triangle where Grant and Griffin streets meet. We’ll have a short 15-minute service, and be together again, to remember, and, yes, to “make a beginning.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 27, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who calls us to remember and imagine.
Memorial Day weekend, 2021. As many of us celebrate the beginning of summer this weekend it is good to remember why there is a Memorial Day in the first place.
It began shortly after the end of the Civil War, a war that took more lives than any in U.S. history. Held on May 30th until 1971 when it was changed to the last Monday in May, Memorial Day was originally known as Decoration Day, a time to decorate graves with flowers, hold family gatherings, and participate in parades.
So many people died in the Civil War–620,000 soldiers, along with an undetermined number of civilians– that it precipitated the need for the establishment of the first national cemeteries.
Now Memorial Day is a time to remember all who have died in U.S. wars. Counts vary but one source says the number of deaths is 1,354,664 for both soldiers and civilians. More than double this when you count the wounded. Then multiply it by the number of families and friends who have grieved and suffered over these losses, without end.
My Dad would still be teary-eyed when talking about Sam, his best friend growing up, who was killed in the Battle of the Bulge, and receiving word of his death on Christmas Eve, 1944.
Sam had been planning to become a doctor. Now imagine all the skills, talents, creativity, and ingenuity the world will never know, the cures never realized, the inventions never invented, the compassion and love never experienced and given.
And what about the millions of lives who never show up in our statistics, those who were killed who we deemed our enemies? How jarring it is to hear Jesus tell us to love our enemies. How hard it is to realize the destruction wars have brought upon all of creation.
So, yes, let us remember our fallen soldiers this weekend, but may we also imagine a world Jesus talked about, where we will one day put down our weapons and learn war no more.
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 26, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ,
This is the final week of our Great Heritage-Bold Future Campaign. Begun back in 2015 and, after two years of planning, it was launched in 2017, the year of our 150th anniversary. Pledges and gifts, including those for the National Fund for Sacred Places campaign, total close to $2 million!
It has been an amazing, faith-filled effort from all of you to raise these funds to maintain and enhance our beautiful building, address crucial infrastructure concerns, support scholarships for our Child Development Center, and help homeless youth through the fine work of the non-profit organization Adelante.
Yet, we are not quite finished. Anticipated work and ministry have been left undone because there is still $100,000 of outstanding pledges.
I recall an earlier building campaign, noted in the Book of Ezra, which chronicles the return of the exiles to Jerusalem after years of captivity in Babylon. Chapter 3, verse 6 indicates that, “according to their resources” people gave “to the building fund sixty-one thousand darics of gold, five thousand minas of silver, and one hundred priestly robes.”
I’m not sure what a daric or a mina is, and I’m fascinated that one hundred robes were given, but, apparently, it was enough to get the work done. Notice, though, “according to their resources.” It is completely understandable, then and now, if circumstances have changed and one is unable to fulfill a pledge.
But if you just forgot, or have waited until the last minute, please consider fulfilling your pledge. Even a daric or a mina, whatever they might be, would help as we put to use these gifts to enhance our ministry and its work in the world.
Regardless, the campaign closes this Monday, May 31, Memorial Day, and we end it with deep thanks to the leaders of the campaign, and much gratitude to all of you for making it such a fine success, and a part of our life and ministry these many years.
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 18, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who took walks around the neighborhood, all the time.
Everyone now and again, a commencement speech catches my attention. Like when Bob Hope addressed graduates years ago and simply said, “Don’t go.”
Then there’s the time three weeks ago when the Rev. Jimmie Hawkins, Director of the Office of Public Witness of the Presbyterian Church (USA), gave an online address to 25 graduates of Union Presbyterian Seminary in Richmond, Virginia, and said “Just as you have come out of the pandemic a different kind of disciple, so shall the Church.”
“The Church you go forth to serve will not be the same one you encountered when you began seminary,” Hawkins said. “The Church has demonstrated that it’s nimble, more so than anyone could have imagined. COVID did not destroy the church, but demonstrated the resiliency of people of faith, who are not as rigid as people might have imagined.”
It feels good to hear the Church is nimble and resilient! I hope we are. To avoid rigidity setting in it will no doubt take some stretching exercises. Neck exercises so we can look in all directions. Bending over to touch our toes instead of bending over backwards trying to do all that we did before. Reaching our arms up and being surprised the sky is not the limit.
Hawkins gives us additional instructions: “If our congregations expect our churches to grow, they are going to have to reflect the diversity of their neighborhoods. If our denomination hopes to remain relevant, it must diversify in both leadership and constituency.”
OK, so maybe we do our exercises out there, in our neighborhood, and other places. Stretch our legs a bit, and a lot. Walk like Jesus did. Meet people who are not like us. “Lift people up,” to quote Hawkins one last time, “who have been beaten down.”
Sounds like this might be our own commencement address in a post-pandemic world.
Apparently, “Don’t go” is not an option.
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 17, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who is always on the move.
Before we turn our attention this Sunday to Pentecost, let us look back at the Easter season. What did we learn?
The one idea that won’t let me alone is this: The new life, this transformed life, never lets us stay too long in one place.
Taking a cue from the fact that Jesus stayed in the tomb no more than two nights and a day, those who saw the empty tomb didn’t stay there but were on the move, running sometimes, telling people, witnessing, proclaiming, being blessed.
We read what happens when the disciples stay in their room, clinging to it, with the shades drawn and the door locked. Jesus enters, as a spirit might not bothering with a door or a wall, and tells them “peace with you.” In Greek, it means “to talk to each other again. If you choose to sit, at least talk to one another.
Jesus moved on and his followers claimed to see him in many places.
At the very close of these post-resurrection appearances Jesus doesn’t say to build a church. He doesn’t say to start forming committees. He doesn’t say to write policies and creeds.
Jesus says go. In Mark, Jesus tells scared women to go Galilee. In Matthew he tells the women to go tell the other disciples in Galilee and then says to go forth into all the nations. In Luke, they are to tell all the nations, beginning with Jerusalem, then Jesus takes them to the nearby village of Bethany and blesses them. In John he says go tell the disciples he is alive.
Go, tell, bless. As the pandemic loosens, where will we go, and what will we say when we get there?
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 10, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who would often go to the mountains to pray.
Ghost Ranch.
Place of my earliest memory (when I was 1 1/2 years old in 1961). Destination of many vacations growing up. Focus of a few trips with my church in Ohio (after months of planning). Site of great sorrow for it was here that my family and I heard that my brother Ray was killed in a car accident. And now I am privileged to serve on its Board.
Ghost Ranch.
As I have profound memories of this sacred place, I am sure many of you do as well. Our church has had close relationship with the Ranch through the years. I remember well the Sunday when the son of Arthur Pack (editor of Nature magazine who gave the Ranch to the Presbyterian Church back in 1955) showed up in worship. He was an old man by that time and when he introduced himself during our welcome time there were audible “oohs and aahs” echoing across the sanctuary. In these parts the name Pack is royalty.
Ghost Ranch.
This spiritual retreat and educational conference center of the Presbyterian Church (USA) has offered thousands and upon thousands of courses and programs through the years. It has been closed during the pandemic, except for online offerings, but is now opening for the summer.
And it has requested our help to get things ready for people to return. Would you help? We need one more person (or couple) for May 14-16 and four or five more for May 21-23. Free room and board. Come after dinner on Friday and leave after lunch on Sunday. Please refer to the announcement which has been in the E-News for several weeks.
Ghost Ranch.
This is your opportunity to spend a few days in one of the most beautiful places in the world. It’s free and it’s close to home. Able to go? Please contact Delicia in the church office, frontdesk@fpcsantafe.org. Oh, I hope you will. And take photos to share with the rest of us!
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 7, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who teaches us what love means.
One Valentine’s Day a little boy gave a card to his teacher, but he was embarrassed by what it said so he scratched out the “I love you” and scribbled “I don’t mind you” instead.
“I don’t mind you” is not a many-splendored thing, nor does it inspire poetry or art or music. Love does that.
But what is this love, the word used so many ways in our culture, and what does Jesus mean in John 15 when he says to “love one another as I have loved you”?
H. Richard Niebuhr, one of the great theologians of the last century, described this love in his book, The Purpose of the Church and its Ministry.
When we love one another, Niebuhr wrote, we rejoice just thinking about the other.
We accept the other for who he or she is.
We don’t try to refashion the person as a replica of ourselves.
We have a loyalty to the other’s cause.
We want what’s best for them.
Jesus did this for his friends. The word translated “friend” (philos) is from the verb “to love a friend” (phileo). When Jesus speaks of “friends,” he is really saying “those who are loved.”
Jesus announces this new understanding of their relationship as he is about to leave his disciples. They become those who are loved. Imagine if we regarded our friends this way? And imagine if our friendship circles widened to include our neighbors, our community, our world?
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 29, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who started a renewal campaign.
Who would think that vines could lead to a revolution?
I can’t believe it either, but there it is in John 15, the last of the “I am” statements in the gospel, where Jesus says, “I am the true vine.” What? Not quite making the connection? Keep with me. It took me some time to see it, too.
It starts with a vine. The best grapes are produced closest to the vine where the most nutrients are concentrated. Because the branches are apt to grow and wander all over the place, they are pruned so they stay close, allowing more and healthier fruit to grow.
It’s easy to wander. How often do we spend our time on unimportant matters? How often do we do “church things” that have nothing to do with the Reign of God, or with God’s love and justice and forgiveness? Life is complicated and takes us in all kinds of directions, swirling and gnarling our way through the day, like vine branches. Just look at your To-Do list or your checkbook (wait, do you still have one?) to see your priorities. How do they look to you?
John says when we are pruned, when we stay close to the vine, to Jesus, we begin to bear fruit. Then amazing things happen. Like Paul in the early church throwing off old ways and welcoming Gentiles. Or St. Francis shunning wealth in order to love God’s creation, in a simple way, one animal and one bird at a time. Then there’s the 16th century reformers like Calvin and Luther who forged new paths of faithfulness, and the Anabaptists who sought change without resorting to any type of violence. And what about the movements of the last two centuries, freeing slaves, women’s suffrage, child labor laws, nonviolence, and civil rights of all kinds?
The church has been involved in each one of these, and more. Not because it was easy–oh, how easy it is to look the other way, or look inward—but because it stayed close to the vine, to Jesus, and acted out the Gospel message.
How are we staying close to the vine today? How has the pandemic opened our eyes to new ways of spreading the Gospel’s clarion call to love more deeply and to care more profoundly?
Answering these questions can lead us to a renewal that brings not only vitality and hope but a new revolution that happens to be very old, of staying close to Jesus and his ways.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 27, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who walks with us in our fears.
I walked home alone.
It was the end of my junior year at Evanston Township High School, summer was almost here, baseball season had just ended, and I was told when I got home from school I would know if I really had Hodgkins Disease or not, an often fatal cancer with no cure at that time.
I frantically looked for friends as I hung around the outside doors. We would walk the mile or so to school each morning but now they were nowhere to be seen. So, I walked home alone, dreading that, and dreading, even more, what I would hear when I got there.
Would my life be over soon? Would it be painful? How do I say goodbye? These questions pounded at me as I walked. Wait, I am too young! I feel perfectly fine. I can’t be sick! Can I?
“Abide in me as I abide in you,” reads this Sunday’s scripture from John 15. Jesus gathers his disciples around him to prepare them for the hardships and death he is about to face. He consoles them by inviting them to a deeper relationship and urges them to abide in him. It’s a word of hope, not despair, and one of trust and reassurance, of finding one’s true home in Jesus, and the peace that this brings.
Looking back, would those words have made a difference as I approached my house? Would reciting John have calmed me down? Would I have known some peace? And know it now?
My mom greeted me at the door. I looked closely at her face for any sign of knowing. She looked calm. Maybe I will be Ok, I thought. Maybe the earlier diagnosis was wrong? Isn’t that right, Mom?! Then she told me the results had not come back yet. Maybe tomorrow.
Tomorrow came and, yes, I had cancer. My life would change and I’m still trying to figure out whether it was good or bad that it did. My journey has been filled with both, like all lives.
Still, I wonder sometimes what it would have been like if my friends had been there that day. To walk with me. To buffer the terror that I felt. To soothe my anxiety. Who’s to know? And who’s to know if I really was alone? Who’s to know whether Jesus walked home with me that day? Or that he’s been walking with me ever since?
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 22, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who walked by the sea, taught in fields and on mountainsides, and told us to notice the birds of the air.
I was eleven years old and living in Pasadena, California, when the first Earth Day was established. It opened our eyes to the degradation we had caused and the harm looming before future generations if we did nothing about it.
By that time that day was recognized in the spring of 1970, I had lived in Pasadena for three years, and still longed for my old hometown of Wooster, Ohio, with its clouds, snow, trees, lakes, all things green, and air that was always clean (or at least I thought it was).
Only later years did I realize one major reason why I longed for Ohio. It was the smog.
In Wooster, we had fog once in a while and it was fun and spooky. Before we moved, I was told Pasadena had smog instead. Fog and smog sounded very similar, but I soon experienced the difference.
Fog doesn’t make your lungs hurt when you walk five blocks home from school. Fog doesn’t sting your eyes. Fog doesn’t make it hard to catch your breath when you are playing. Fog doesn’t cause an alarm to go off at school preventing you from going outside for recess.
Smog does. The only thing smog had in common with fog was its ability to white out the 7,000-foot San Gabriel mountains two miles north of my home. The smog was so bad that we couldn’t see them for days at a time. Friends would visit from back east and comment after a week’s visit that they thought we lived by mountains. Where might they be?
I understand the air quality in Pasadena is much better these days, and I am grateful for all the work that has led to that, but I also know there are countless places across the world today where it is just as bad or even much worse, where it hurts to breathe.
One day once a year won’t repair and restore the earth, of course, but I hope this Earth Day reminds us again of our responsibility to care for all God’s creation, to work and sacrifice so that all the world might know the sacredness of the earth, of its lands and seas and skies, and the holiness of being able to breathe, and to breathe deeply.
Grace and peace
Harry
April 21, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who calls us to be a people of hope.
The jury just came back with a verdict on the killing of George Floyd.
My eyes are welling with tears.
For the family of George Floyd and all the other families of color who have endured the wrenching pain of losing a loved one and, until today, losing in the courts.
For all the people who woke up this morning, as Van Jones said on CCN, and dared to hope.
For all those who have marched in protest in the past year, and in all the years before, who dared to hope that their steps might lead to a renewed humanity, where all people are cherished, no matter our color or history.
For those who will continue to march, to organize, to challenge, to lift up, to hope, again, that justice will prevail and roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
For those who will be undaunted in keeping the dream alive, that we are born to live together in peace, to share our lives together, to lift people up and be lifted up by others, to join hands because when we do, we won’t hurt anyone, not on a corner in Minneapolis, not on a playground in Cleveland, not in an apartment in Atlanta, not in all the towns and cities and rural places of our nation.
For the determination of those who see this as a dawning of a new day, like the sun’s rising in a garden, and a tomb is empty.
For all of us living in the exile of injustice for too long, and who now see a path leading away from Babylon.
Oh, there is so much more work to be done but for now, for today, this moment, let’s hear the voice, again, that prepares the way of the Lord, where every valley will be lifted up, and all this uneven ground be made level, and the rough places a plain that leads to a better America.
My eyes are still welling with tears.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 19, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who opens our minds.
It is still the season of Easter and I am still offering thoughts on the marks of the resurrection.
We have looked at five thus far, all taken from John 20:1-19: Peace comes when we talk to each other again. We are to carry out Jesus’s message to the world and not keep it private. Despite his doubts Thomas persisted and stayed within the fellowship of the disciples. We come to realize Jesus acts the same way God does. We believe in Jesus even though we haven’t seen him.
Now the sixth mark of the resurrection, this time from Luke 36b-48: Our minds are opened to understand the Scriptures.
I hope we are doing this already. I hope we open the Bible and read the stories there. I hope we come to those stories not with our minds made up on what they mean, but are open to new interpretations, and the Spirit of God somehow getting between us and the words to help us see a different life offered there.
When I face a new sermon each week, sometimes I think I know what the scripture says so that my sermon will be easy. When this happens, I am always, and I mean always, shown a different path. The stories always take me in a different direction, despite my objections. Did I say it happens every time? Yes, every time.
I think this principle is also at work in how we approach the life and work of the church. Whenever we say “this is how the church should be” or ‘this is what the church should be doing” it is best to step back and look at it anew. Let Scripture inform us. Let the stories of God open us to new understandings not available to us before.
We should be doing a lot of this kind of work in the days ahead as we begin to come out of the pandemic and “back to church.” Many of our sacred ways of being and doing may not be where God is calling us now. We will look different because we are different.
A sixth mark of the resurrection then, is to approach this re-formation that we are in with an open spirit, an open mind, with open eyes. We never quite know where God is taking us and, boy oh boy, I don’t want to miss the ride.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 16, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who has one final benediction to give us.
I always liked benedictions growing up. It was the last words my Dad would say in the service, and I was often glad for that. I knew I was closer to getting home and getting out of my church clothes and closer to playing. I also knew that Mom had a pot roast in the oven, along with carrots and mashed potatoes, patiently waiting for our return,
As I got older, and began to listen more to the sermon, letting the music fill in all the spaces when my mind would wander, the benediction became a summary of the message. One more chance to hear it again, like Reader’s Digest back then, that pared things down.
What I liked, too, was that Dad would always say the same words before he got into that day’s specifics:
And now let us go forth into the world in peace,
cleansed of our sins and loving one another.
And do not render evil for evil
but support the weak and strengthen the faint-hearted.
I have said those words as my own benediction at the end of every service I have led for the past 37 years.
The same blessing passed down from father to son, from generation to generation, back to the blessings of Jesus. He gave many of them, and always different, from the Beatitudes to the one in the post-resurrection story of John 20:1-19:
Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.
Jesus was addressing Thomas but is addressing all of us, from that moment to our own.
Jesus’s last blessing. His last benediction.
We have not seen the Lord, as did Mary Magdalene, Peter, James, Thomas, and the others. But we have an even greater blessing than they did. They believed because they saw the resurrected Christ. We are faithful to him without ever having seen him, because we believe the testimony others have given to us and because we may have experienced in our own lives the power of the resurrected Christ.
The fifth mark of the resurrection.
Grace and peace, to you who have not seen and yet believe.
Harry
April 15, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who knew Thomas’ doubt, and our own.
Eight days after Easter the disciples were still in the house, still scared, and still behind locked doors. Apparently, even the sight of Jesus was not enough to shake them into new life.
Let John take it from here: Jesus came and stood among them, and he said, “Peace be with you all.” Then he spoke to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hand and place it in my side.”
Jesus was responding to Thomas’ earlier statement that he would not believe until he touched the wounds of Jesus. Jesus invited him to do just that, and we expect to see Thomas’ hands reach out to Jesus. But he doesn’t. There’s no need. Jesus is there and transcends any doubt he has.
Then comes the statement from Thomas that I promised you in my last letter, the greatest confession of faith recorded in the New Testament: My Lord, and my God!
Jesus is Lord, Thomas exclaims, Lord of the world, the community, his own life. But Thomas, in his statement, also sees Jesus as God, the one who speaks to us what God would speak, who acts in our lives as God would act, who guides as God would guide, who forgives us as God forgives.
My Lord, and my God. The fourth mark of the resurrection. That Jesus has a claim on us that reaches beyond our doubts, that goes so deep that we begin to see that Jesus is acting the way God does. He is not merely a prophet, as some would have him, or simply a nice, kind man, or a man with a revolutionary spirit who lost to the Romans, who failed to overcome their control and oppression.
No, Thomas says, after much wrestling and tussling, he is my Lord, and my God.
After much wrestling and tussling, what statement about Jesus might we make?
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 14, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who helped Thomas to see.
Let’s reclaim Thomas. He is perhaps the disciple most like us, and the one most aligned with our 21st century worldview.
Thomas was not with the other disciples when Jesus came into the room, according to the story in John 20:1-19. When they told Thomas they had seen Jesus he was not ready to accept their testimony. Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe.
“Will not” in Greek is a double negative and is the strongest statement of doubt a person can give. Thomas gave it. Welcome, Thomas, to our century! We know what you mean. We have so many words bombarding us all the time that they become cheap. Truth has been attacked and in retreat. We are forced to believe in only what we can see and touch.
It’s a hard place to be. It makes our world smaller. It makes us suspicious. It makes us doubt other people’s experiences and beliefs and ideas.
The great thing about Thomas is this: he persisted. He needed a vision of triumph as vivid as the former vision of defeat; a vision of resurrection that could blot out the vision of the cross. He didn’t leave. He didn’t give up. He didn’t disparage the others for their experience.
And most notably, Thomas did not break fellowship with them. Henri Nouwen wrote in his Genesee Diary: Although Thomas did not believe in the resurrection of Christ, he kept faithful to the community of believers. In that community the Lord appeared to him and strengthened his faith. I find this a very profound and controlling thought. In times of doubt or unbelief, the community can carry you along; it can be the context in which you recognize the Lord again.”
So, Thomas gives us the third mark of the Resurrection: despite his doubts, he persisted, and he stayed. Otherwise, he would have missed proclaiming one of the great statements of the Christian faith. Join me next time and we’ll find out what it is.
Until then, grace and peace,
Harry
April 7, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who breathed new life into creation.
The second mark of the resurrected life: Carry out Jesus’ mission in the world.
Now I know we are supposed to do this all the time, not just after Easter, but the story in John 20:1-19 makes it clear that we can’t stay in this Easter evening room. It’s all about getting out beyond the locked doors of our lives.
As the father sent me, so I send you. Notice who Jesus sends. Disciples who try their best but still cower in locked rooms. People like Peter who deny Jesus multiple times. People who fall asleep in the garden and fall away when things get tough.
In short, Jesus sends people who heard this story for the first time in the early church, and people like you and me who have heard it most of our lives.
While this commissioning may seem daunting, we don’t go out empty-handed. John tells us Christ’s spirit will be with us as we carry out his mission.
And then this: John says, Jesus breathed on them. The same word, you recall, means breath and spirit. Jesus’s act carries us back to Genesis and God breathing life into the first human.
Jesus, acting in God’s stead, calls into being the new creation, when he breathes upon his disciples and bestows upon them the spirit of the new life. Receive the Holy Spirit, he says.
With today’s pandemic mask-wearing we have reduced the number of people breathing on us. With this story we have opened the door to a new life where we breathe in God’s spirit.
So, may we all take a deep breath today. This second mark of Easter is all about a new creation that we proclaim to the world, with our voices, our actions, our ingenuity, our openness, and the very breath of our being.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 5, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, the one whom death could not contain.
Happy Easter! Though we could not be together for the second year in a row, and singing those majestic hymns of Easter, I hope you still found reasons to proclaim, “He has risen!”
Happy Easter, then. Which begs the question: what exactly are we to be happy about? I may not need to remind you, but I will: Easter has its own season lasting until Pentecost Sunday, May 23. It’s not over. We have many weeks to explore the “happy” behind Easter.
We begin with John 20:19-31 which takes place the evening of Easter when the disciples have locked themselves in a room, perhaps the same room in which they had shared the last supper with Jesus only a few nights earlier. They had come with Jesus to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover with him and instead found themselves immersed in the terrifying events of his arrest and crucifixion.
Even though they had heard from Mary Magdalene that Jesus was raised from the dead and that she had actually seen him, their only response was to lock the doors for fear that enemies of Jesus might come to arrest them and subject them to the same fate that he had suffered.
Then Jesus comes. “Peace be with you,” he said as he entered the room, his resurrected body bearing the marks of pain and suffering from the cross.
The “peace” of which Jesus speaks is the “shalom of God,” to use the Old Testament phrase. It is life at its best, the sense of well-being, when heaven touches earth. “Peace” in Greek meant “to talk with each other again,” usually after some break in the relationship. The relationship between Jesus and the disciples had been broken with their desertion and his death. Now it is restored. They are talking with each other again. This is peace. The first mark of Easter.
It must have been a joyful moment when the disciples saw Jesus and heard his offer of peace. In this instant the Kingdom of God was fully present.
Happy Easter, then, that we might enjoy restored relationships and the peace that comes from talking to each other again.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 2, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who hangs on a cross today and the day loses its light.
This is my 100th letter to you, dear saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places, and it falls on Good Friday, of all days.
It would have been tidier and more joyous if it arrived on Easter. I suppose I could have planned better, or skipped today, so that Easter becomes the focus–spring and light breezes, bunnies and chocolate, and all such things. Oh, yes, and new life.
We might imagine Jesus would have preferred to skip today as well, the darkest of days filled with humiliation and sheer pain. But he didn’t and we can’t either, though most of us do.
One can’t experience new life without some kind of death. It is the premise of Ignatian spiritual direction. Of its four movements, the third one is placed in the Garden of Gethsemane for these few short days. And it often takes the longest to get through.
Decide to follow Jesus to the cross and we, too, must go through some kind of death–a way of life, a belief, a habit, self-doubt, a goodbye.
Read the stories of the spiritual giants and moral leaders of our day and those past, and I would be very surprised if each of them did not go through some kind of death. Gandhi, King, Mandela, Chavez all had those “Good Friday” experiences, and came out all the stronger and wiser. It is one major reason why we remember them to this day.
So, we remember Jesus today. In the dark. Few of us would ever venture close enough to hear his seven last words or see the pain wracking his body. Maybe all we can do is admit to the darkness at 3 pm.
There’s no benediction here. No good words. We’ve all had days like that. This is one of those days.
Grace and peace, and the hope that Good Friday does not have the last word.
Harry
April 1, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who challenges his disciples to follow him in the darkest of times.
Wednesday and Thursday of Holy Week are the start of those darkest of days, and test our resolve to continue with Jesus.
So far this week we could blend in with the “whole crowd” that “are “spellbound by his teachings.” Now there are fewer people in the scenes with Jesus’ eye turning to us. Will we stay awake tonight in the Garden of Gethsemane and follow Jesus to the cross, or will we fall asleep and fall away?
This is the third and decisive movement of spiritual direction in the Ignatian tradition. If we follow Jesus it will lead to the cross but also, then, to new life. The male disciples fall asleep, of course, and keep their distance from Jesus from this day forward.
Not so for the woman who anointed Jesus with costly ointment last night. She has been regarded through the centuries as the first Christian, since she actually believed Jesus and his talk about his death and resurrection. What a contrast she is, not only with Judas, but with all the disciples and, I dare say, with many of us.
Oh, there’s more to Thursday evening with each passing minute and story, bringing Jesus, and us, closer to the cross. It’s all there in Mark 14. I encourage you to read the story for yourself. It’s meant to be experienced first-hand, and not through the filter of others.
I hope you will keep with it. It’s easy to drop off about now. These darkest of times can be hard to take. Then there’s Good Friday tomorrow.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 30, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who is now in his final week.
We often don’t get going on Holy Week until Thursday with the last Supper and the Garden of Gethsemane. But it is a full week for Jesus and the more we walk with him, the better we will understand the flow of the story leading to the cross and beyond.
Yesterday, the Monday of Holy Week, Jesus sees, then curses, a barren fig tree and proceeds into Jerusalem to cleanse the temple and overturn the tables of the money changers.
Today, Tuesday, is a busy day, taking up almost three chapters of Mark, 11:27-13:37, a total of 115 verses (the most of any day in Holy Week). Two-thirds of Tuesday takes place on the large open-air courts and porticoes of the temple where Jesus debates temple authorities and their associates. They hope to entrap Jesus and discredit him in the presence of the crowd. Jesus holds his own.
It is on this day we hear Jesus tell his questioners, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” Hitler and his Nazi party, as well as monarchs through the ages, used this phrase to legitimate their authority. American Christians used it during the civil rights era to criticize acts of civil disobedience.
It is on this day that a Scribe asks Jesus, “Which commandment is the first of all?” Here is one of the few times that Jesus directly answers a question posed to him; to love God, not Caesar, above all else. Then to love our neighbor as ourselves, refusing to accept as normative the divisions in our world, between the respectable and the outcast, rich and poor, friends and enemies, Jews and Gentiles.
It is on this day that Jesus watches a poor widow put her last two coins into the temple treasury. It is not so much a picture of the woman’s devotion as it is an indictment of the temple system that manipulates the poor to give all they have.
Imagine if we skipped Monday and Tuesday? We would miss Jesus standing up against the powerful systems that dominated and oppressed.
Stay with us. There’s still more to come tomorrow.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 26, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who remained quiet when we might have chosen to talk.
My father wrote hundreds and hundreds of sermons throughout his 40-year ministry but the one I remember most was entitled “The Quiet Christ.” I have looked for it since, even going through some boxes of his sermons, but I can’t find it. The quiet Christ. I was so moved by it when I was young. I wish I knew what it said now.
We know in the trial, that Jesus said only “You have said so.” With an array of trumped-up charges hanging over him he had nothing to say. He remained silent. The quiet Christ.
It is hard for us to imagine that an accused one would remain silent when given the opportunity to speak. Our culture speaks all the time. If the house is quiet, we turn on the TV just to hear someone talking. We can’t wait to get a word in edgewise when someone else is speaking. News programs are available 24/7. Zoom meetings depend upon people talking and need mute buttons to keep us quiet. We fill up our worship services with words, and more words.
Jesus, by contrast, does not speak again until he is on the cross.
Why not tell Pilate of his innocence? Why not look at the crowd and remind them that he never said he was King of the Jews (indeed, he never used the phrase)? Tell them again that he was preaching about, and living out, the Kingdom of God and its righteousness? Give names of those he healed? They would certainly vouch for him, right?
In reality, none of this would have made a difference. Jesus knew that. He had preached his sermons and did his healings and lived as he knew he should. What good would words do now? The system of domination and violence, in which he lived his entire life, would think little of his words in its constant pursuit to retain and increase power.
So, the quiet Christ. What do you make of it? Maybe Dad had an answer, but it’s lost to me now. Maybe you have an idea, and we can discuss it.
Or maybe we need to sit in silence, even while the world is chattering, and simply watch and listen to the quiet Christ.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 25, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was brought to a trial he could never win.
The system of violence has been on full display, most recently in Boulder and Atlanta, and on January 6 and practically every day throughout human history. So, also, at Jesus’ trial Good Friday morning.
Barabbas was an insurrectionist and, as such, would do anything necessary to get rid of the Romans. It is easy to see such people as strong and courageous, fighting for a cause. Barabbas represents all of us who think that violence is necessary to achieve a goal. It is our “go-to” response when situations get tough or confusing.
The chief priests incited the crowd and then the crowd does what crowds do. Seldom is there a peaceful ending.
Barabbas’ name further confuses people into thinking violence is working for a noble cause. Bar means “son of” and abbas, well, you guessed already. It is the name Jesus used for God, an intimate name like Daddy or Papa. Bar-abbas means “Son of God!” Perhaps Mark is trying to tell us it is easy to glorify violence. Perhaps Mark is trying to indicate the crowd was confused about who to pick: Barabbas the Son of God or Jesus the Son of God? Violence is very good at convincing us that it really isn’t violence.
The crowd? It was most likely carefully screened. Only those who favored the Empire would ever make it through the guards into the palace of Pilate where this trial was taking place. The violence system doesn’t do well with unbelievers.
Finally, Pilate. He was the Governor of Judea from 26 to 36 AD and was responsible for two things: collect taxes for Rome and quell unrest. The emperor was always watching and would remove him immediately if he failed in either. Judging by his long tenure, Pilate did his job well. Any sympathy we might have for Pilate, seemingly caught in an awkward position and leaving the decision up to the crowd, is off base. The trial was a sham. Jesus didn’t have a chance. The system was always going to win.
Except maybe not. In my next letter we will look at Jesus and what he does to confront the violence system.
Until then, grace and peace,
Harry
March 23, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who blessed those who mourn.
Another day, another shooting. So far this year there have been 9,436 shooting deaths in the United States. By the time you read this there will be more. That’s 115 deaths a day. Someone just asked if we are in a war zone. Yes. Just ask the residents of Boulder after 3 pm yesterday, and Atlanta last week.
Gun violence in America. Can we name a place in our country that is free from it? It is an epidemic seemingly without a resolution. It is a self-inflicted wound. It’s a myth that guns make us safer. It has entrenched itself into the soul of America.
So, I sit here today remembering the ten who lost their lives simply because they went to a grocery store: Denny Stong, 20; Neven Stanisic, 23; Rikki Olds, 25; Tralona Bartkowiak, 49; Suzanne Fountain, 59; Teri Leiker, 51; Kevin Mahoney, 61; Lynn Murray, 62; and Jody Waters, 65. I remember Officer Eric Talley, 51, father of seven, who went to protect them.
May we remember their names more than we remember the shooter. I hope we also remember their families, their friends, and their communities.
Then, how might we help? What can we do to stop this gun violence?
I think about Boulder which had its ban on assault weapons struck down by a Colorado judge ten days ago. I worry about New Mexico which finds it hard to pass any real gun violence prevention legislation. I mourn over our nation which is apparently fine with electing leaders who do not regard gun violence prevention as important, let alone a priority.
Then, I think about what it means to follow Jesus who taught and lived non-violence. At his trial before Pilate the crowd chose Barabbas, the one who used violence, over Jesus, the one who didn’t. Why?
I have to admit, I am having a hard time now imagining what a society free from gun violence looks like. And it’s getting harder every day.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 22, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was brought to a courtroom to be tried by Pilate.
In a few days it will be Palm Sunday, a high point in Jesus’ popularity, and one of the few times we can act out a Biblical story by waving palms and shouting “Hosanna,” which means “Save us!”
But this time, and for the second year in a row, we will not do so at the Plaza. But maybe that’s OK. Maybe this year we need to be elsewhere. Like the trial of Jesus. We usually get to skip this scene, along with all the other stories of the Passion which take the entirety of chapters 14 and 15 in Mark, but it is to our detriment.
For casual onlookers, the final days of Jesus go straight from palm waving to the empty tomb with barely a shrug. But the stories in between are some of the most consequential of our faith. Some traditions promote the reading of these two chapters in their entirety in worship at one sitting. The story is powerful and needs no elaboration. We will do this at our video Maundy Thursday Tenebrae service again this year.
For the remainder of this week, in my letters to you, I will focus on the main characters in this courtroom scene: Barabbas, Pilate, Jesus, and the crowd.
There is no indication the disciples were present at the trial. And if they were, their voices were not heard above the din of the crowd. Perhaps they were just ignored. No matter. We need to be there. We need to witness what happened that day.
We won’t be waving palms, surely, but perhaps we might still sing “Hosanna.” Staying with Jesus through his trials, in the courtroom and soon on the cross, may provide a key to experience what “save us” is all about.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 18, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who proclaimed that the Kingdom of God is near.
Six predictions for the post-pandemic church.
This title of a magazine article caught my eye as it touches on a topic I have been thinking a lot about over the past year. And writing about. And just beginning to read about.
And what we will soon Zoom about. We are privileged to have John Buchanan, who served as pastor of Chicago’s Fourth Presbyterian Church for 27 years, sharing his ideas on the post-pandemic Church beginning Sunday morning, April 18, 9-9:50 am on Zoom. If anyone can help us, John can! Among his leadership in so many areas of the Presbyterian Church, he served as Editor of The Christian Century, one of the flagship magazines of the Christian Church.
That’s where this article comes from. It was written by Peter W. Marty, son of noted church historian Martin Marty, senior pastor of St. Paul Lutheran Church in Davenport, Iowa, and the current editor/publisher of The Christian Century.
Peter was also a good friend and classmate at Yale Divinity School. I looked him up online just now and read paragraph after paragraph of his accomplishments since we graduated. A bit daunting to imagine someone doing so much in his life all while being senior pastor of a 3500-member church. Thank you, Peter, for sharing your many talents and gifts!
And, also, your predictions for the post-pandemic Church: 1. The social capital connected with congregational life will be increasingly valuable in a post-pandemic culture. 2. Worship during the pandemic has taught us that churches can be liberated from a fixation on counting. 3. Our extended experience with the virtual church may allow us to appreciate our buildings as hubs for mission without idolizing them. 4. There is some outsize work ahead for pastoring in an age of conspiracy and disinformation. 5. Intimacy, proximity, and personal presence will carry more genuine authority in a post-pandemic church than touting a large (virtual) platform. 6. The long pandemic gap should have congregations eager to address racial inequity, unconscious bias, and the everyday experiences of Black Americans.
There is much ponder and discuss, much to get our heads and hearts around, and much to prepare for, but also much to be excited about as we move, hopefully soon, out of the pandemic and into a world God has waiting for us.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 17, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who offers an alternative vision to a world of domination, violence, and death.
I think it would be better to hold up a placard with “John 12:31” on it.
If you remember last week, John 3:16 was the focus of my message. You may also remember back in the 1980s when a rainbow-wigged man would hold up a sign with John 3:16 on it. “For God so loved the world,” the famous verse begins.
But I think John 12:31 is better for our time: “Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out.” Here’s why:
Charles L. Campbell, Professor Emeritus of Homiletics at Duke Divinity School, suggests “the world” (kosmos in Greek) is not describing God’s creation but rather an “organized opposition to God’s purposes through structures and institutions that hold humans captive to its ways.” He suggests Kosmos be translated as “The System” which is driven by a spirit or force that John calls the “ruler of this world.”
To me this definition, like a spotlight, shines understanding on what Jesus was seeking to accomplish throughout his ministry. He was exposing “the System.” Consumerism, which promises the more we buy the happier we will be, also often relies on sweatshops. The domination system set up for winners and losers often perpetuate racism and sexism. The myth of redemptive violence may be the most powerful of all, that violence in any and all of its forms can bring about peace and reconciliation.
What other parts of “the System” can we identify? How might we expose them and bring them to the light of day so that they lose their power? Dr. King exposed the ugliness of racism and white supremacy through images of firehoses and dogs turned on black men, women, and children, splashed across the television for all the world to see. What might we do?
John 12:31 says that Jesus will drive out the ruler of this world, though we know “the System” won’t go away so easily nor without a fight. Unfortunately, a “John 12:31” sign at a sporting event won’t be enough. It still takes a cross, a death in some form, then new life, and followers of the Jesus’ Way who continue to lift up, and live out, God’s alternative vision for the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 15, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who encouraged people to see life in a new way.
The church, and about everything else, closed its doors a year ago this past week. What lessons have we learned since then in the midst of the pandemic?
Here’s one: In facing all the constraints put upon us we have found ways to adjust. Some is by sheer necessity. Others have arisen from creativity, imagination, patience, and forgiveness. Much of what we do now comes from Zoom. Who would have guessed?
Remember St. John’s Episcopal Church in Lafayette Park? The church where the former President stood in front of its sign, holding a Bible upside down, after the area was cleared of protesters with tear gas and rubber bullets?
Yes, that one. Known as the Church of the Presidents and in close proximity to the White House it has had to ask serious security questions since that day. How do we address the security of the building and still have our arms open to all people?
St. John’s, already a victim of an earlier fire in a basement bathroom, was concerned about their priceless stained-glass windows being harmed. So, here’s what they did: They put plywood over the windows and hired graffiti artists in the neighborhood to paint them one Saturday when they invited the surrounding community to come and enjoy a food, music and games outside and socially-distanced.
Not only was the neighborhood invited to be part of their community, but the Smithsonian plans to display the plywood “windows” once they are no longer being used so all can see the creativity of these moments.
What ways might we be creative in these times of the pandemic and beyond? How might we imagine our own constraints (indeed, the Greek word for sin means “all that constrains you”) and obstacles as opportunities for innovative ministries that reach out into the community?
While others only saw a tired and constrained life, Jesus saw new life in a new creation and left us footprints to follow him. While the Smithsonian probably won’t be calling us, it will still be great fun to put on some walking shoes and see where Jesus takes us.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 9, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “God so loved the world.”
The bullet was stopped by a two-inch metal strip right below the window on the driver’s door.
Otherwise, a year ago yesterday on our way to celebrate our birthdays with family in Tucson, my wife Jenny would have been injured or possibly killed, heaven forbid, by a random bullet aimed at our car as we exited I-25 to get gas at Santa Domingo Pueblo.
It left us stunned, then grateful we weren’t hurt, then angry that someone would do such a thing, then dismayed that shootings happen with such frequency that few are news-worthy anymore, then mad again that legislators are doing so little to keep guns away from those who should not have them.
While we escaped tragedy, the shooter escaped as well, yet to be found. And our state and national legislators continually escape taking a stand on gun violence prevention.
Just yesterday I was told the Senate decided not to advance a bill that would strengthen the ERPO (Extreme Risk Protection Order) law that temporarily removes firearms from a person who poses a significant danger to others. The current law is very weak, and was intended to be.
I have been involved in gun violence prevention for almost two decades, first in Ohio and now here, but never before has a gun and its lethal power touched us so closely. Never before has a gun almost killed my wife.
New Mexicans to Prevent Gun Violence, of which I am co-founder and co-president, is an all-volunteer group of wonderful people dedicated to preventing gun violence through a many-pronged approach, including education, gun buy-backs, legislation, and working with youth. We encounter victims of gun violence in our work, but never before could I imagine what it is like for the countless people who have lost loved ones or been injured and traumatized themselves. Now I can. All because a person who shouldn’t have a gun had one.
Oh, Jesus, what do we do? Will calling our elected officials do any good? Will conversations about peace make any difference? What do we do when God so loves the world, but we are still shooting each other? Oh, Prince of Peace, what do we do?
Grace and peace, with deep gratitude that Jenny is alive and well and we could celebrate our birthdays together again this year.
Harry
March 8, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who never attended a church committee meeting.
Idea #2: Transform meetings into opportunities for deepening faith and renewing the church.
Last Friday I began offering ideas (Idea #1: Child-honoring) for all of us to ponder and envision as we move through the pandemic in order to discern who we are, who we want to be, and what we should be doing as a faith community.
So, committee meetings. In the first decades of ministry, I was out an average of two or three nights a week at church meetings. That’s what a pastor does, right? Growing up in a clergy family, I hardly remember a night when my Dad was not out at some committee meeting. When my oldest brother was young, he insisted on attending a meeting to see where Dad was all the time, and he reportedly came back disgusted, saying it was “just a big talk-out.”
We can do better and be more faithful doing it. The theme of my doctoral thesis back in the early 1990’s was “How to Run Effective and Efficient Committee Meetings” (you can tell by the title that those I attended mostly were not) but the focus soon changed from being effective and efficient to being faithful and life-giving.
In my previous church in Ohio, we began meeting in coffee houses and homes. We always had food in front of us. We shared stories. Talked about scripture. Laughed a lot. Built friendships. We changed the name committee to ministry or some other word that best fit the group. We had fun together. Other people wanted to join. We looked forward to the next gathering. And amazingly, we still did the work of the church, better and more faithfully.
I tried to promote this when I came to Santa Fe but apparently it wasn’t the right time. Maybe Zoom has allowed us to see that meetings can be done in a different way. I hope so. I hope we might be open to new ways of being church that transforms the way we meet and live together.
As I reflect on the stories of Jesus, he didn’t spend his time in “big talk-outs” as much as he did at meals, telling stories, listening to people, addressing their needs, and sharing the good news that they are loved deeply, ever so deeply.
What if this was our experience of church?
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 3, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who caused quite a stir in the Temple.
This is the day of the new deliverance.
It may look like the old story of Jesus cleansing the Temple in John 2:13-22 with the Temple, moneychangers, and sacrificial animals (scholars say there were upwards of 100,000 sheep being slaughtered in Jerusalem during the Passover) providing the backdrop, but there is much more going on behind the scenes.
At Passover, hearts and minds are focused on the exodus event and expectations of deliverance. But Jesus reminds us that we are not going to find salvation in a building, especially one that was rebuilt by Herod the Great starting in 20 B.C. in a futile effort to win over his “ungrateful” subjects, and finally completed in 64 A.D., only six years before it was destroyed again by the Romans.
We are not going to find healing in restrictions and policies. Moneychangers had a job only because coins used to pay the Temple tax could not have an image on them, which was against the Biblical mandate against graven images, so money needed to be changed to fit the rule.
We are not going to find our future in slaughtering animals and desecrating God’s creation. The Temple would only allow “unblemished” animals to be slaughtered so they had to be bought there, because long trips to Jerusalem would undoubtedly “blemish” an animal.
The system was set up to support the Temple and its priests, and no doubt by this time those who benefitted thought they were doing a good thing. It’s all about worship and devotion, right?
According to John, however, Jesus is the new Temple. The same Greek word is used for both building and body which confused the religious authorities and became clear to the disciples only after Jesus’ death.
For John, it is the day of the new deliverance. Jesus is the one who offers salvation (the Greek word, salus, means health, wholeness, peace, and integrity). Jesus is the one who heals. Jesus is the one who presents a future, God’s future, God’s reign which is near, here already, and about to come. With God’s help, may it be our deliverance as well.
Grace and peace, as we continue our Lenten travels.
Harry
March 2, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who often went to a lonely place to pray.
Open to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
These words, coming directly from the Foundations of Presbyterian Polity in our Book of Order, preface our mission statement.
These words are essential to what lies ahead. No matter what we do, how well we plan, how prepared we think we are for the days ahead and those beyond the pandemic, without being open to the guidance of the Holy Spirit we will find ourselves, well, wandering in the wilderness.
To be open to the Holy Spirit means we have some discerning to do. Discernment, according to Charles M. Olsen in his book, Transforming Church Boards into communities of spiritual leaders, means to “see” or to “know” or to “acknowledge” what is. ‘Through questions, silence, reason, dreams, and images we begin to see what God is up to. We can’t completely describe it or control it. It is to see the movement of God, perhaps only in the dust kicked up by the wind. It is to see from God’s perspective. The discernment process is one of uncovering the decision—not of making it.”
There are many decisions before us. What we will keep, what we will add, what we will leave behind? Last week I wrote about child honoring. What else will we add to our list? What is God calling us to be and do? What will be transformed? How will we be transformed?
Who are we to presume the will of God? Discernment is mysterious, elusive, and perhaps the most difficult road we can take. It is also the most faithful.
With all the uncertainty of our days, and fears for the future, I can think of nothing better, or harder, than to be open to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. May we do this together in the days to come.
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 26, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who welcomed children into his arms.
We change the world by honoring our children, all the world’s children.
This is the premise of a book, suggested to me by a church member, entitled, Child Honoring: How to Turn this World Around. It is edited by Raffi Cavoukian, known the world over as Raffi, songwriter, singer, and children’s advocate. Included is a Forward written by the Dalai Lama, and writings by experts on societal transformation based on honoring our youngest and “most vulnerable players.”
Sad to say, we aren’t very good at doing this. One in six children live in poverty, the highest of any age group in the United States. Of 41 nations ranked on child poverty, the United States was fourth from the bottom. We seem to struggle with “all things children” from teacher pay and struggling public schools to the high levels of toxicity in our environment. The list is long and outlines how we have failed our children through our nation’s priorities and policies. As I write this, I can’t get out of my mind the images of children placed in cages in detainment centers on our border.
Thank you, then, to our Child Development Center (CDC), for your amazing and dedicated work in teaching children and supporting their families. Thank you, the congregation of the First Presbyterian Church of Santa Fe, for continuing to support the CDC when many church-based schools have closed. Thank you to our children’s and youth ministries, and the adults who lead, guide, and support them and their families.
In the coming weeks and months, as we hopefully come out of the pandemic and begin to use our building again, I will be offering ideas on what our church might look like. What will we take with us from our pre-pandemic days? What will we leave behind? What new things might take us deeper and further into our faith and farther into the community?
I can think of no better place to start than to do to some child honoring, which, if Raffi is right, might indeed transform the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 25, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who welcomed children into his arms.
We change the world by honoring our children, all the world’s children.
This is the premise of a book, suggested to me by a church member, entitled, Child Honoring: How to Turn this World Around. It is edited by Raffi Cavoukian, known the world over as Raffi, songwriter, singer, and children’s advocate. Included is a Forward written by the Dalai Lama, and writings by experts on societal transformation based on honoring our youngest and “most vulnerable players.”
Sad to say, we aren’t very good at doing this. One in six children live in poverty, the highest of any age group in the United States. Of 41 nations ranked on child poverty, the United States was fourth from the bottom. We seem to struggle with “all things children” from teacher pay and struggling public schools to the high levels of toxicity in our environment. The list is long and outlines how we have failed our children through our nation’s priorities and policies. As I write this, I can’t get out of my mind the images of children placed in cages in detainment centers on our border.
Thank you, then, to our Child Development Center (CDC), for your amazing and dedicated work in teaching children and supporting their families. Thank you, the congregation of the First Presbyterian Church of Santa Fe, for continuing to support the CDC when many church-based schools have closed. Thank you to our children’s and youth ministries, and the adults who lead, guide, and support them and their families.
In the coming weeks and months, as we hopefully come out of the pandemic and begin to use our building again, I will be offering ideas on what our church might look like. What will we take with us from our pre-pandemic days? What will we leave behind? What new things might take us deeper and further into our faith and farther into the community?
I can think of no better place to start than to do to some child honoring, which, if Raffi is right, might indeed transform the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 24, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who began to teach us that he must undergo great suffering.
“Get behind me, Satan.”
This well-known phrase, found in Mark 8:33, Sunday’s lectionary text, stands out from other Jesus quotes. Here he seems angry, equating Peter with Satan. It is a bit startling, as if Jesus had finally had enough of Peter’s talk, of his disciples, of the whole crazy idea of starting on the road with these erstwhile companions.
But hold on. Not quite. The phrase means getting behind Jesus. It means not getting out in front of him. That is one of the great temptations, is it not, to think that we have the answers, and they are better than Jesus’ take on life? Didn’t Jesus live 2,000 years ago in a simpler time? We know what’s best for us now in this challenging, whirlwind of a world we live in, right?
It’s the same attitude that brought people to the Capitol on January 6 with Jesus flags waving, believing they were storming those hallowed halls with his blessing. They had gotten out in front of Jesus, believing they could speak and act in his name.
Peter thought so, as well. It was all glory for Peter in the first seven-plus chapters of Mark, watching Jesus with pride and wonder as he healed and taught, with great crowds following him. It’s a pretty heady time for all of them, all glory and no suffering. Who wouldn’t want that?
Jesus, for one. Mark 8:31-38 is a pivotal point in the Gospel, a crossroad, a moment when we understand the Gospel is not all fellowship and community, healing and hope, but more like carrying a cross, a frightful symbol back then, a burden fraught with sorrow, fear, and death.
This is all part of the Lenten journey. Do we decide at this point to keep following Jesus or do we say we’ve had enough, that the ride’s been fun so far but now is the time to hop off?
Before you make up your mind, did you catch something else Jesus said? The disciples had no response to it, as if they didn’t or couldn’t hear it then, but nestled in all the words about rejection and death was “after three days he would rise again.” They missed it, even at the empty tomb. Will we as well?
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 22, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who showed us a God who will never, ever let us go.
The man who saved my life died last Tuesday.
John Detterick was a leader in the Presbyterian Church (USA), headed the General Assembly Council (now the Presbyterian Mission Agency) for eight years and before that the Board of Pensions for five years. Prior to these denominational church roles he was President of the Sears Financial Corporation and a member of the First Presbyterian Church in Lake Forest where I served as an Associate Pastor in my first call.
John was there in my darkest days when seemingly all options had run out in my struggle with Leukemia. After John left Lake Forest for Philadelphia to lead the Board of Pensions, a drug of last resort, Interferon, appeared to show some promise but its cost was astronomical, and insurance would not pay for it. Desperate, I called John for help and advice–I had nowhere else to turn—and after listening to my story he said he would see what he could do. The next day he called to say that the Board of Pensions would pay for the Interferon treatments, which turned out to be over nine years of nightly shots.
John literally saved my life, as did Interferon, the Board of Pensions, the doctors and nurses who cared for me at Rush-Presbyterian St. Luke’s Hospital in Chicago, the congregations I served in Lake Forest, then Cleveland, my family, friends, and even nuns in Germany who were praying for me. They, all of them, carried me on their shoulders when I didn’t feel I could go on anymore myself.
When I arrived in Santa Fe over nine years ago, lo and behold, John was moderator of the Presbytery. He had grown up in Las Vegas, NM, and had come back home after his retirement in 2006. Years later, when doctors gave him 3-6 months to live, he stretched it into six years, all the way to last Tuesday, proving that a diagnosis would not define him, in the same way those out-of-reach medical bills would not be the final words of my life.
Thank you, John, for your amazing, faith-filled life, how you made it possible for me to keep on living, how you kept going yourself, and the many ways you exemplified a loving, compassionate, life-giving Church along the way.
Grace and peace to you, John, and to your family that includes so many of us.
Harry
February 18, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was tended by angels in the wilderness.
Whatever you do, don’t hit it up the middle.
These words came back to me yesterday at the start of Lent as I often equate it with the start of spring training. Both are a time of preparation and both herald the coming of spring (Lent is the shortened form of the Old English word lencten, meaning
So, I walk to home plate with those words from my manager in my head. “Whatever you do . . .” It was the final game of the Cleveland Indians Fantasy Camp at their training facility in Florida when the old pros played the campers. My Ohio congregation had given me this week as recognition of my ten years of service with them.
On the mound was legendary pitcher, Bob Feller, “Rapid Robert,” regarded by many as one of the top five pitchers in baseball history, who once threw a pitch in 1946 clocked at 107.6 mph. Sixty years later, when I stood at the plate reciting over and over, “don’t hit it up the middle,” he was 87 and his once famous high leg kick was reduced to a few inches off the ground and his first two pitches to me bounced in front of the plate.
The third pitch was low and inside, but I swung anyway, taking what could be my only chance to avoid a walk, hitting a one-hopper to short that was hit so hard I barely made it half-way down the line before I was called out. Others might say I was simply slow.
No, I didn’t hit it up the middle, though I did visualize tomorrow’s headlines, “Fantasy Camper Knocks Out Legend Bob Feller.” Yet I did feel like I had hit a home run by talking with him throughout the week (he called me “The Rev,” a nickname that soon caught on), and the time I overheard him remark about “The Rev’s” ability on the field.
Bob Feller, who lived in a beautiful house a mile from my home east of Cleveland, died of leukemia four years later. One day, after leading a graveside service in a small cemetery in the woods south of his house, I wandered past a grave marker with a lone baseball on a small pedestal. No name. No dates. No words. I asked the funeral director about it. “That’s Bob Feller,” he told me. Yes, that’s Bob Feller.
Grace and peace to you on our Lenten journey, with thanks to Bob Feller and how my life intersected with his in this very small way, reminding me how lucky I am to have met him, and that I did not hit it up the middle.
Harry
February 16, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who went out into the wilderness for forty days.
February 16th throughout history has been a rather non-consequential day. There is nothing about it to celebrate. It is no 9/11 or January 6, November 22, or August 6. If anything, it is a “day before” kind of day as we look to Ash Wednesday tomorrow and the beginning of Lent. Even today’s Mardi Gras is shut down in New Orleans due to Covid. Places here in Santa Fe are shut down due to snow.
Yet today is important, nonetheless, as we decide whether or not to embark on our annual Lenten journey. The forty-day trip, not including Sundays, will take us to the early morning of Easter and the empty tomb. For the early church it was a time of preparation and penitence, not giving up chocolate or losing weight.
For us it just might be the day we decide to deal with our biggest temptation of all.
Mark 1:9-15, the lectionary reading for Sunday, holds within it the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness. It’s only two verses, 12 and 13, but is profoundly important for Jesus, and for us. The scene is the final one before Jesus embarks on his ministry. Forty days alone save for wild beasts, angels waiting on him, and Satan’s temptation.
The temptation? Unlike Matthew, Mark does not say, but the verb he used indicates the temptation before Jesus was to use one’s own powers for ministry and not God’s, to believe oneself so strong that he did not need God, or so weak that not even God could help him.
The next time Jesus would be tempted in this way would be in the Garden of Gethsemane. But the power of that temptation must have stayed with him each day of his ministry, for he advised his disciples to pray that God would not lead them into temptation. We pray the same prayer.
Is this our temptation as well, thinking we can go it alone, that we have the power to accomplish what we want, or that life is simply futile and the challenges too great?
I need some time to ponder this. Maybe forty days, maybe longer. Will you join me? We can start tomorrow.
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 12, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who changed before our eyes on the mountaintop.
The Transfiguration of Jesus is always the last story before Lent begins.
It’s a strange one at that, so let’s try to figure out what it says. The Greek word for transfiguration, metamorphosis, means a complete and total change of one’s being.
Ovid, a Roman poet who lived during the time of Caesar Augustus and died when Jesus was a young man, wrote a collection of mythological and legendary stories entitled Metamorphoses, where people turned into animals and gods turned into people. Ovid invented the phrase and Mark uses it decades later to describe this strange event.
Here’s what we know from the story. Peter, James, and John, Jesus’ inner circle, follow Jesus up the mountaintop (always a symbol of being closer to God) and see Jesus turned into his transcendent glory. Prior to this they had seen him as the man Jesus of Nazareth. Now they begin to see him as the son and beloved one of God.
When the Messiah arrives, Jewish lore had said, he will radiate like the sun. So here with Jesus as Mark describes his clothes becoming dazzling white. Then Jesus talks with the two greatest figures of the Hebrew people, Moses and Elijah, as if he were the equal of both.
Peter is so taken by this scene that he wants to stay here forever and begins to talk about building tents to live in. Then a cloud intervenes, overshadows them, a voice comes out of the cloud saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him,” and suddenly it is over. Moses and Elijah are gone and only Jesus remains. That’s the story.
I hope we take this story with us as we begin our Lenten journey. Mull over it. Hear the muffled voices, see the cloud and its shadow, behold Jesus standing there alone. Peter, James, and John were there. They saw Jesus change, metamorphosize, in their presence and they changed as well, and their world changed, seeing him in a completely new light.
Might we, as well?
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 9, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who reminds us in life and in death we belong to God.
My Mom died five years ago today.
She had suffered from Parkinson’s for the last twenty years of her life, enduring it valiantly, with grace, and without complaint, at least as far as I knew. We all watched with dismay and grief as she gradually lost her ability to function, to talk, to move, to communicate. One of the last things she told my Dad, when her speech was still intelligible, was “I am so thankful.”
It was Mom who first called me one night in Cleveland about the opening at this church. Reading from the ad in Christian Century magazine she concluded with “Doesn’t this sound like the right church for you?” A lot of conversations, synchronicities, trips, deliberations, excitement, and meeting wonderful people led us here, but it all began with Mom.
My family and I sat by Mom’s bedside as she slowly drifted to another place. Days went by and I delayed my return to Santa Fe until my family told me to go back home. Mom knows you love her. You need to get back. Among other things, I was scheduled to give the opening prayer for the New Mexico Senate. I finally relented. I saw her one last time alone, said my goodbye, and flew home from Kalamazoo.
Two days later I received a call from my brother. I looked at the clock from the front of the Senate Chamber and it said 11 am (the same time that I am writing this, it turns out) and I told Richard Murphy, then chaplain of the Senate who was sitting next to me, that my Mom had just died. He offered to do the prayer, but I said I could still do it and I did, after first telling the senators what had just happened.
To my surprise, a few moments later the Senate President led the entire Senate in a moment of prayer, for Mom.
Mom did amazing things in her life and now, at its end, a farm girl from central Ohio is being remembered by the New Mexico Senate. How cool and wonderful.
And how thankful I am today for my Mom.
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 4, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who saw “the whole city gathered around the door.” (Mark 1:33)
People who lived in the surrounding area of Simon’s house had just heard of Jesus’ healing powers, his exorcising a demon in the synagogue earlier that day and now curing Simon’s mother-in-law of fever, and that evening they came to him with their illnesses and distress.
The word Mark uses for “cure” is therapeuo from which we get the word therapy. It did not originally mean “to cure” or “to heal” the sick but “to treat” them.
Wait! Jesus didn’t heal everyone who came to him? You mean, some may have limped away the same way they came? Some still couldn’t hear? Or see? We’ll never know.
What I do know is this: we can be healed without cancer ever leaving our body, our heart repaired, or our eyes able to see again. Healing can come when someone spends time with you, truly listens without interruptions because you and your story are supremely important. Healing can come from touch, like what Jesus did earlier in the story when he took Simon’s mother-in-law by the hand and “lifted her up” (the same word Mark used for Jesus’ resurrection in 16:6). Healing comes when someone says your illness is not your fault, as was often believed in Jesus’ day and sometimes in our own.
I still see the counselor in front of me, years ago, when I told him (I didn’t mean to; it just came out of my mouth) I believed I was responsible for my cancer. I started to explain my misguided reasoning and he stopped me, looked straight into my eyes and said, “Harry, you are not responsible for getting cancer, nor do you have the power to cause it.” Immediately, tears poured out, I couldn’t control them, and with them the silent weight I had been carrying for years. (Even in this moment of remembering my eyes are welled with tears.)
What if we were to become “treaters,” listening deeply, responding with compassion, being present for others, remembering Jesus who did the same? We could leave other healing to God, to Jesus, to others.
In a world like ours, what if we knew that healing can really happen, in all kinds of ways?
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 2, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who healed Simon’s mother-in-law in her home.
“As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house . . .”
Thus, a new story begins in the fast-paced opening chapter of Mark’s Gospel and reflects the early Christian movement where many of Jesus’ followers came from the synagogues and began meeting in homes.
Here, Jesus goes to a home and heals Simon’s mother-in-law. Then, that evening after the Sabbath had passed, Mark says the “whole city” was gathered around the door bringing “all who were sick or possessed with demons.”
So much for our thinking that church is a single, separate building. So much for our thinking that we “do church” on Sunday mornings then go about the rest of our lives the rest of the time. So much for our thinking that the church has only one address.
We know all too well the pandemic has taken our faith community from a church building into our homes. Yet, how good to know it is scriptural and the natural meeting place of the church community!
How and where has church changed for you since the pandemic began? For me, my church work, aside from venturing into the sanctuary twice a week to video worship, centers around my kitchen table laden with laptop, cell phone, papers, files, Zoom meetings, and books.
In some ways our church has been ahead of this trend through ministries such as Second Family and the “We’re Neighbors” ministry of the Deacons. What other ways are we moving beyond traditional church boundaries?
Covid is changing the way we are the church. While we look forward to getting back to our beautiful church building, we are also experiencing church right now, much like the early Christians, when Jesus leaves a church structure and meets us at home.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 28, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose God can surprise us in unexpected ways.
What is God calling us to be and do, here and now?
Apparently, according to a recent Google search, First Presbyterian Church of Santa Fe is a Senior Poodle Rescue!
No, I’m not kidding. We put in a search for “Senior Poodle Rescue near me” a few days ago and our church showed up behind Feline and Friends New Mexico and Santa Fe Animal Shelter and Humane Society. We even received 12 hits!
I have no idea why we would show up on such a list (we ranked third!), unless our little dog Pippin, a Poodle mix, had something to do with it. Maybe he feels showing up in our worship videos has rescued him in some way. Or being showered with love when he enters the church building.
If you have any ideas let me know. Throughout scripture God is often rescuing people. Maybe you have been rescued as well? While the church does many things I don’t often (or often enough) think of it as a place of rescue. Maybe I should. Maybe Google and Pippin are on to something.
The pandemic is forcing us to look at who we are, again, and what we do, right now and in the post-pandemic world to come. We’ll talk about it this Sunday at our 9:00 am Acts II class called “Christ and Culture.” This question will stay close as we continue ministry in these challenging times.
I expect we will keep the many good things we do as a church, be led to others, and leave some things behind. I’m just not sure what to do with a senior poodle rescue.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 22, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who called disciples by the Sea of Galilee.
All the oaths, songs, poems, and speeches are now a few days old. Tough days lie ahead with crises on many fronts.
What do we do now?
Jesus tells us to follow him. If we did, we might gain our sense of direction.
Jesus takes his new followers to Capernaum, to a synagogue where he heals a man with an unclean spirit, and people are amazed. When was the last time you were amazed?
Then Jesus takes us to the house of Simon and Andrew and heals Simon’s mother-in-law. How might we bring healing to our families?
That evening, at sundown, the whole city is gathered around the door and Jesus cures many who are sick and casts out many demons. How might we bring healing to our community?
The next morning, while it is still dark, Jesus goes to a deserted place to pray. Have we prayed?
His disciples find him and tell him everyone is searching for him. Are we searching for him? Has he found us yet?
He then takes them to neighboring villages and proclaims the message to them. Do we know his message? Do we proclaim it?
And this is just the opening hours of his ministry!
Jesus calls us to follow him. What if we really do? And what healing might take place?
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 20, 2021
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, on a day when a new President is being inaugurated.
“Now after John was arrested.”
I think we all might imagine what follows these words from Mark 1:14. “Now after John was arrested Jesus goes into hiding afraid for his life. Hopes are dashed. All the ideals of John have been squelched, his voice silenced, despair covers the land, and God grows quiet.”
But that’s a 2021 mindset speaking. It’s the 21st century speaking, and every other century before it chiming in.
What Mark tells us is completely different. Surprising. Refreshing. In the darkest of times (make no mistake, the arrest of John, Jesus’ mentor and forerunner, was a profoundly dark moment) Jesus didn’t give in to despair but comes to Galilee proclaiming good news saying, “the time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe the good news.”
So for us. The time is now. It is not the best of times but it is our time. God’s time. And God’s time is the right time. When God’s love is shared, when walls of hatred are toppled, when cries are heard and soothed, when wounds are tended and healed, when we turn in a different direction, able to hear the winds of the Spirit, and give our hearts to good news, that God and God’s ways will overcome, and we will again glimpse our greatest hopes and honor the sacredness of all life.
May it be so on this day of the inauguration, after John was arrested, when Jesus came to Galilee.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 13, 2021
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus, in whom “Scripture teaches us of Christ’s will for the Church, which is to be obeyed.” *
Please stay away from the Roundhouse this weekend.
This request comes from the Mayor as all fifty capitals are bracing for the possibility of violence. In light of what we have witnessed this past week in Washington D.C. it is wise advice, one that was echoed at a recent Board meeting of New Mexicans to Prevent Gun Violence. Members of this group, of which I am Co-President, recalled times that we have been afraid in our work to reduce gun violence and we all agreed being present at such a proposed rally is both dangerous and counter-productive.
Instead, come and see.
In our scripture lesson for Sunday, John 1:43-51, Philip offers this invitation to Nathaniel to come and see Jesus. He didn’t recommend a book about Jesus. He didn’t hold a class on Jesus’ teachings. He didn’t pressure or coerce. Philip simply says come and find out for yourself.
Come and see Jesus by reading the gospels yourself. I won’t tell you what I have seen—see for yourself. Experience him. Ponder his teachings. Reflect upon his life and his death, and the new life people saw in him.
This is quite the antidote to what is swirling all around us, including a second impeachment just announced this afternoon.
Come and see, not what might happen at the capital—again, please stay away—but by experiencing the life and spirit of Jesus. It promises to be of great help as we live through these days, and beyond.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0203
January 12, 2021
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus, whose “Church is to be a community of hope, rejoicing in the sure and certain knowledge that, in Christ, God is making a new creation. This new creation is a new beginning for human life and for all things.” *
History. Hardship. Heroes. Hope.
I came across these four words recently in an article about the Cleveland Browns winning their first playoff road game last Sunday (the first since 1969!) and how their new Head Coach turned around the culture of the organization.
He did it with “the four H’s.” The head coach had players take turns sharing their personal stories in team meetings; their history, hardships, heroes, and hope. They came away a closer team, able to understand and identify in one another their common humanity. It was the foundation for a long-awaited winning season that has lifted the city of Cleveland.
Now I know there may be few football fans among you, let alone a Browns fan which requires great fortitude and blind loyalty (trust me), so why mention this story when we are reeling from the storming of the Capitol last week and fearful of violence in the days to come? Because we need a little break from the heaviness of these days, at least for a few minutes, and turn our attention to those things that connect us and bring us closer together.
The Greek word for peace, Irene, has at its root the idea of talking to one another. The Browns did it and it changed a culture. Maybe talking and sharing might change our culture as well. At least it would be a start.
History. Hardship. Heroes. Hope.
Grace. Peace.
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0301
January 8, 2021
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus, whose “Church participates in God’s mission for the transformation of creation and humanity.” *
So, what now? As workers clean up the aftermath of Wednesday’s assault on the Capitol, and upon our democracy, we have opportunities to discern our own response as followers of Christ
(All that is listed below are on Zoom with detailed explanations in this eNews.)
Attend the “Presented by Men’s Breakfast” tomorrow morning, 8:00-9:00 am to meet Kirt Rager, the new director of Lutheran Advocacy Ministries, which is our advocate at the Round House.
- Join us this Sunday, January 10, for the beginning of a four-week series on “Christ and Culture,” 9:00-9:50 am.I am largely scrapping the lesson I had planned this week to make way for a discussion of this week’s events and the path before us.
- Engage in the “Dismantling Racism” class that has been meeting faithfully since Juneteenth (June 19th ) of last year and is now forming Action Circles.After much discussion and discernment it’s now a call to action.
- Today the “Dismantling Racism” class began seven weeks of Listening Lessons. Read the information in this eNews and join us each Friday at 10 am.
While you are looking in the eNews see the many other gatherings that you can participate in—fellowship, education, music, spiritual exploration, Bible studies, prayer and service. This is the church in action.
We offer two virtual Worship services each week to sustain, inspire, and ground us in our efforts. We gather, live on Zoom, each Sunday morning at 10 am.
I am very honored to serve as pastor of this congregation. I am very excited about how we will respond to the many grave issues surrounding us. In such dark and challenging times I am very heartened and relieved to know that Christ is before us and beside us showing us the way.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
January 7, 2021
A Day of Epiphany
Yesterday we woke up with Georgia on our minds. We went to sleep with serious concerns for the future of democracy and our country.
Lost in the tumult of the day’s chaos and violence: It took place on Epiphany (from the Greek word reveal), a feast day celebrating God’s incarnation in Jesus Christ, the visit of the Magi to the Christ child, of Jesus being revealed to the Gentiles, an “aha” moment.
Revealed yesterday was not the peace, compassion, and integrity of Jesus but our nation’s deep struggles with violence, division, racism, injustice, inequality, and dangerous rhetoric and harmful untruths that have done unspeakable harm, even leading to death.
Sadly, all of this overshadowed a historic day for democracy where we should be celebrating diversity and the remarkable enfranchisement of historically marginalized voters as indicated by Georgia sending Rev. Raphael Warnock, a fellow pastor from Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Ebenezer Baptist Church and the first African American Senator from Georgia, and Jon Ossoff, the first Jewish U.S. Senator from Georgia.
What, then, will today reveal about us, for those who seek to follow Jesus in 2021? We begin by remembering.
We remember those who died and who were injured yesterday, and those impacted by violence, there and everywhere.
We remember Jesus who lived under Roman rule, an Empire of casual cruelty and oppression, and he saw its effect on people. He responded, not by shying away from struggles or siding with those with power and influence, but by being radical and countercultural; bold, courageous, creative, and faithful to a loving and transformative God who remained undeterred in the face of systems steeped in oppression.
We remember Jesus came into a world with stark similarities to our own, and was tried for insurrection because he countered the culture of power and violence that surrounded him and called for peace where others wanted war, love where others wanted hate, mercy where others wanted vengeance, inclusion over exclusion, and called his followers to put aside my will and seek Thy will. Jesus stood and still stands against everything we saw at the Capitol yesterday which is the empire’s way of dominion, power and exclusion.
We remember the claim in our Brief Statement of Faith that “in a broken and fearful world, the Holy Spirit gives us courage to work with others for justice, freedom and peace.” God’s love extends to all. God is at work in the world to make and keep human life human. Humbly and hopefully, in such a time as this we are called to freely join in God’s worldly work for justice, freedom and peace. This morning PCUSA’s office of public witness, located steps from the Capitol, reminded us “Our country is changing and there is resistance, much of it through violent acts and rhetoric. But we will prevail because whenever you stand with justice, love, and inclusion, you stand with God.”
Taking such a stand will not be easy. But this is our calling. It will not be without cost. Repair and restoration are never easy. It will take action as well as prayers that must never cease.
Grace and peace,
Rev. Harry Eberts
Rev. Andrew Black
Rev. Jim Brown
January 6, 2021
And the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
For darkness shall cover the earth,
and thick darkness the peoples;
but the Lord will arise upon you,
and his glory will appear over you.
Nations shall come to your light,
and kings to the brightness of your dawn.
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0204
January 4, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus, who, “by the power of the Spirit . . . came to live in the world, die for the world, and be raised again to new life.” *
New Year’s Eve in Cuba in 2003. Members of my Ohio church and I were visiting our sister church in Caibarrien, a city of 50,000 people which sits on the north coast of the island, not far from Sagua La Grande. As darkness (no streetlights made it really dark!) overtook the town we accompanied our Cuban sisters and brothers to the plaza for festivities and amazement.
The festivities came from the annual (and extravagant) float competition between the two parts of the city, those who lived in the flat land and those who lived in the hills. The amazement came from the fireworks that showered down upon us. Apparently there were absolutely no regulations for fireworks and we spent our time looking up to the sky, oohing and aahing, and then racing for cover as the fireworks sizzled to the ground. Back and forth, screaming and laughing.
On our way back we passed old row homes, most in disrepair because of lack of materials and money, where people were tossing buckets of water into the street. Others were burning effigies. It was quite a night.
How do we leave one year behind and welcome the new? One way is the Renewal of Baptism in worship this Sunday when we remember Jesus’ baptism in Mark 1:4-11 (note how early and important this ritual is for Mark) where Jesus comes out of the Jordan water, sees the heavens part, the Spirit as a dove descends on him, and a voice from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
I think of the fireworks now as the Spirit descending on us; the laughing and dashing as new life; the buckets of water as the Jordan cleansing our lives; the effigies burning away all that we want to leave behind as we see God’s new 2021 creation before us.
May you remember your baptism this Sunday, and the start of a new year, as amazing and welcome markings of the Christian life.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
December 30, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus, whose Gospel proclaims “the Lord’s favor upon all creation.” *
I’m tired of counting the losses that have piled up throughout 2020. I’m distraught over the harm that has been done to people and to the earth. I’m fearful we will not remember enough of 2020 to change our ways in 2021.
So today I will count my blessings. It seems wiser and healthier than clinging to that which we have lost, or giving in to fear. It also is a spiritual practice.
Number one: I have blessings to count. I am so happy to realize that. I am blessed to be in Santa Fe, married to Jenny, with wonderful children and family members, surrounded by great friends here and across the country, with enough health and ample food, a great job, a comfortable home, a vibrant church community, and causes to engage in.
Number two: I have blessings I cannot even recall at one sitting but they will come to me in unanticipated moments, like a gift.
Number three: I look forward to new blessings to come that are not of my own making. They seldom are.
I know I miss many blessings but pretty sure I’m not alone. The Gospel of John talks about Jesus when it says, “He was in the world . . . yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him.”
May we accept Jesus, and learn from him. May we realize what a blessing he is; his life and teachings. May we see him in one another and the blessings that bring “favor on all creation.” May it be so in 2021.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
December 29, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Our new little rescue dog Iona Jane (named for our beloved Scottish isle and Austen and Goodall) died on Christmas Eve eve. It wasn’t a complete shock. We had her for 68 days and for 62 of those days we knew she had acute kidney injury and it meant a shortened life.
But is was still a shock, as death most often is. In our grief and in our daily missing her, I think about all the losses in the past year, both personally and communally, yours and mine and the world’s.
My list is surprisingly long and poignant for a single year. Add Covid, racial injustice, our political system stretched to a breaking point, elections like no other, unemployment, hunger, fear, desperation . . . the lists goes on and I’m not sure where and when to stop.
What about you? What are your losses?
It’s too easy to stay there with our losses. Ruminating. Awake at night counting. Especially this time of year, and especially in a pandemic year when Christmas didn’t have the same feel as it has. Without being with everyone at church, in worship, at gatherings, with family, old friends, and singing carols together, it was harder to see the manger with the holy family gathered around, surrounded by shepherds and possibly some sheep or two.
That’s why I am glad for the first words of the Gospel of John this week as our lectionary reading. John has no Christmas story. It was there for the taking but John chose not to do it. Instead, in the darkness of 2020 John gives us the Word—a profound expression of Christ—along with it’s beauty and light.
“In him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:4-5).
Light will come back. The days are getting longer, believe it or not, and so will hope, peace, joy and love as well. John insists upon it. Hopefully we will as well.
Grace and peace, and with thanks to a lovely little dog named Iona Jane.
Harry
December 22, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “by the power of the Spirit, this one living God is incarnate in (him).” *
We continue with the Christmas story in Luke, looking to biblical scholarship to help us better understand its key parts.
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. For a period of time each year, usually in August and September when the lambs were being born, the shepherds lived in the fields with their sheep. Shepherds, not royalty or the privileged, heard from the angels, and it sets the foundation for Jesus’ ministry to be directed to sinners, outcasts, and outsiders.
Good news of great joy for all the people. These words echoed the portrayal of Augustus current in the day. In a town called Priene in the Roman Empire the emperor is called “the savior.” Now a greater one than Augustus is born.
To you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior. The angels’ song contains the only use of the title “Savior” for Jesus in the four gospels. I’m not sure about you, but this was a surprise to me, given that the use of “Savior” has been a central concept in Christianity.
Who is the Messiah, the Lord. The word “Lord” is used in the Old Testament, and of course in the New, to describe God. From this time forward all things said about God as Lord are now transferred to our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Maybe this enough. The story itself is our focus and each time we read it we will no doubt see something we had not seen before. May these words guide you and inspire you as we witness, again and for this year, the story of how God entered the world and into our lives.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
December 21, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “by the power of the Spirit, this one living God is incarnate in (him).” *
In a few days we will hear and sing about Christ being born in a manger in a stable in Bethlehem surrounded by his parents and some shepherds. Yet this story can be deceptive and doesn’t necessarily jive with our memory or mesh with our culture’s depictions of it.
So here’s some scholarship on this familiar and beloved story.
In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus. Augustus means “the Exalted One” and this title was given in 27 B.C. to Octavius, son of a senator, nephew of Julius Caesar, whose reign was heralded as one of peace and prosperity. In actuality it was anything but peaceful and only the privileged (estimated to be 5-10% of the population) prospered.
All the world should be registered. Scholars have shifted its thinking that Luke was inaccurate in associating the enrollment with the birth of Jesus and are siding now with the historical accuracy of what Luke said. A mistranslated papyrus from Egypt in the British Museum was finally properly translated and indicates that a census every 12-14 years was made based on kinship. All who lived elsewhere were required to return to their family home. The enrollment period Luke had in mind, between 6 BC and 6 AD, coincides with Jesus’s birth.
To the city of David called Bethlehem. Bethlehem means “House of Bread” and took its name from the fairly fertile area of Judea in which it is located. Wheat, figs, and olives grow there and that set it apart from the barren areas surrounding it.
He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. In the Mideast, “to be engaged” speaks of a formal service prior to marriage. To break the engagement would be equivalent of divorce. They are bound by sacred oath to continue the engagement into marriage.
The story continues and in my next letter I will as well, with the hope that this background might shed some light on its meaning for us and for the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
December 18, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “by the power of the Spirit, this one living God is incarnate in Jesus Christ, who came to live in the world.” *
It was Christmas Eve, the late service had just ended, I was shaking hands as people filed out into the twinkling, magical night of Santa Fe, and a woman appeared before me visibly shaking with anger. Those who were offering me their “thank you’s” and “Merry Christmas’s,” silently inched away when the yelling began, when this woman let me know how I ruined her Christmas. In my meditation I had one line about immigrant children who were spending this Christmas in cages separated from their parents. “Keep politics out of Christmas!” she screamed. She stayed longer to throw more anger at me and then stomped off into the darkness.
I had apparently ruined her Christmas and she, to some extent, ruined mine, not to mention what our country’s policies have done to immigrant families.
The Christmas story, though, resembles little of what our culture expects or made it to be. Surrounding Luke 2:1-14 is a story of dislocation, a journey leaving home, being away from family, feeling uncomfortable, living in poverty, under the control and exploitation of Rome, and it all takes place in darkness.
It’s hardly the theme of our favorite carols or our grand expectations that often fall short. But it’s the story we have been given.
We all know it will be a different Christmas this year. Families will not be together as before. Cherished traditions will be altered. Parties have been put on hold. But in a strange way it more nearly resembles that first Christmas. We live in fear, people’s lives have been disrupted, families are struggling, poverty is all around us, and the future is uncertain.
Yet we are promised God is still gently and quietly breaking into our world. I only hope and pray those poor children without their parents might know they are not alone, that the world will not always be dark, and that a promised future is being set in place. I hope we can, too.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
December 17, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church’s life and mission are a joyful participation in Christ’s ongoing life and work.” *
How can this be?
These are the words of Luke 1:27 of an astonished Mary responding to the news from the angel Gabriel that she has found favor with God, will bear a son who will be called the Son of the Most High who will reign over the house of David, and his reign will last forever.
It was quite the day for Mary.
In our day we are more apt to respond with “How can this be?” after reading the daily death toll from the pandemic, or the politicians who still will not accept the election, or any of the various headlines that point to the mess of a troubled world.
That’s why I like the words of Ashley Cook Cleese, chaplain at Piedmont College in Georgia, when she suggests “the exclamation of these four words may well signify the nearness of God.”
To do so requires a change of perspective for many of us, from lamenting a broken world to noticing the ways God is still at work in this very same world. There is something to admire about the person who can face great challenges, be presented with terrifying news, and still see the presence of God.
That was Mary. She was a young woman from a backwater town who was confined by her circumstances with few prospects of a broad and fulfilling life. Millions have identified with her through the centuries.
Then God breaks in, without notice and little fanfare, with a big promise that we are not left alone in this weary world, that the Advent promises of hope, peace, joy, and love are still valid, and still before us.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0201
December 16, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “is present with the Church in both Spirit and Word.” *
“The virgin’s name was Mary.”
Luke 1:26-38, our scripture for the fourth Sunday of Advent, slips this in with little fanfare. Mary is a surprisingly common name in the time of Jesus. It is traced back to Miriam, the name of Moses’ sister, and at least six women carry the name in the New Testament.
Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany are good friends of Jesus. Others are mothers of his disciples. Many are present at the tomb. The “other” Mary remains a mystery.
We might think that Mary the mother of Jesus would deserve a name all her own, like David which scholars say no Israelite before or after carried that name and could have been a title, not a name, which meant “leader, chief.”
Mary, though, is one of many, and a name with several meanings. It may have originated in Egypt with the root for “love” or “beloved, or Hebrew for “bitter” (perhaps because Moses’ sister Miriam and the Hebrews were treated bitterly by the Egyptians).
Here’s the definition I like the most: “rebellious.” (whose root is very similar to “bitter”).
Mary, the rebellious one, who defied her station in life. Mary, the rebellious one, who crossed boundaries and dreamed of a great God and a wondrous life. Mary, the rebellious one, who raised Jesus, taught him her values, and shared with him her wisdom, ideals, and rebelliousness.
How much of the Jesus we know has come from this young woman who dared to live up to her name?
How much are we willing to dare to live up to our name as a follower of Jesus?
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0202
December 11, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, in whom “the triune God tends the least among us, suffers the curse of human sinfulness, raises up a new humanity, and promises a new future for all creation.” *
Advent is a time of anticipation. While we try to anticipate the birth of Christ and God’s breaking into the world with the hope, peace, joy, and love of Christ, far too many people know Advent days as depression and loneliness, made worse by Covid’s cruel path of loss and anxiety.
Maybe that’s why it is so important we stay in Advent and not rush to Christmas prematurely. Remember, to get to Bethlehem Mary and Joseph traveled from Nazareth, the Magi from the East, the shepherds from the fields. The journey is part of the story.
What’s more, Advent doesn’t shout to get our attention. Advent doesn’t sing joy to us and hope we feel better. It doesn’t shower us with gifts to make us happy. It simply lets us be who we are and allows us to feel as we do, happy, sad, and everything in between.
In our scripture lesson this Sunday, John 1:6-8, 19-28, John the Baptist prepares the way for Christ’s birth, not as the star of the show, not by singing “Joy to the World” when a hurting world is not ready to hum along, but as one who waits for, tells of, points and witnesses to the one who is to come. John is not the light, but only testifies to it.
On Sunday we will light a pink candle for joy, which joins the light of hope and peace. We do so with no expectation that we must experience them now. They may seem far away in the gloom of sadness and the darkness of the world.
It may be enough to know that hope, peace, and joy accompany us, that they are worth lighting a candle for, that they lead us to a “promised new future” whether we see their light or not.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0404
December 9, 2020
I was always a shepherd in Christmas pageants. The angels got to sing and move around with wings. They were the flashy ones. As shepherds we, who wore hand-me-down costumes and carried wooden staffs, knew our place. No speaking parts. No choreography. No dramatic facial expressions. Just stand there. I must say, I was pretty much perfect for the part.
In a normal year we would be searching for boxes of shepherd and angel costumes. But it’s not a normal year.
So what about an Advent Pageant? I got the idea from noted Episcopalian priest, professor, and writer Barbara Brown Taylor, and it’s intriguing.
It would feature only one child, alone on stage, with a single line: “And the word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory of God’s only son, full of grace and truth.”
The child would not be an angel or even a shepherd, but a witness. The word witness shows up in the gospels fifty times and all but two are in the Gospel of John. Surely John has something to tell us.
Imagine, then, being the witness. What costume would you wear (John went vintage with clothing only an old prophet would wear)? What would you say? What would you say if you were the only one entrusted with pointing others to Jesus?
“Can I get a witness?” This question can be heard from many an African American pulpit. The proper response is “I’ll be a witness.” Will you? Will you “bear witness to the good news of reconciliation with God, with others, and with all creation”?
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0205
December 7, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, and “in gratitude for Christ’s work of redemption, we rely upon the work of God’s Spirit through Scripture and the means of grace to form every believer and every community for this holy living.” *
Advent is a time of waiting, anticipation, expectation, and to brush up on Scripture.
In my experience, most of us feel inadequate talking about the Bible. Or we might think we know more than we do, or perhaps think we know all there is to know.
Wherever you might fall on this scale, I have an offer for you: Five days a week in the eNews and on our website there is a new installment of “Gateway to God’s Word,” a study of the Bible written by my father in 1984. It was never published and remains in manuscript form. My only copy has notes and underlinings all over it so each day I am fixing up a segment from a scan or I am retyping it, and editing a few places for inclusive language.
Reading this manuscript again, and retyping many of the chapters, reminds me of the complexity of the Bible, as well as its beauty. This study is a broad overview of scripture that helps us see why the books were written and relate to one another (as much as it can for words written across 1100 years). It introduces us to the main personalities of these stories and the events that fashioned people’s lives, and their understanding of God’s presence throughout and through the centuries. It’s both scholarly and easy to read at the same time.
We are starting chapter 17 today (out of 25), “Preaching and Teaching in New Testament Times,” which looks at the composition of the Gospels and the accounts that make up the witness to Jesus’ resurrection. Please check it out. You can read the earlier chapters in old eNews, if you still have them, or go to our website.
It should only take up to five minutes a day to read. Hopefully the knowledge you receive might last a lifetime.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302b
December 4, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “calls the Church into being, giving it all that is necessary for its mission in the world, for its sanctification, and for its service to God.” *
A landslide six years ago outside of Bristol, England, closed a section of the road to Bath, and a commute of eight minutes turned into an hour. A local entrepreneur, Mike Watts, built his own toll road, a detour of 1,300 ft. and charged a nominal fee for his troubles. When the construction was over the road was reverted back to a field.
Now I know nothing about building roads but Mark places road-building in the first few verses of his Gospel. They are based, in turn, on Isaiah 40: “Make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and rough places a plain.”
It reminds me of what we have been seeing on the nightly news for months now, and it is only increasing: Cars stretching to the horizon, waiting hours in line for food. Similar lines wait patiently for Covid tests. I think of the valleys of food uncertainty, the mountains of anxiety, how uneven and rough life is for millions upon millions of people.
I was all ready to cry to God to make those highways straight and to smooth all of these uneven places. Remember Isaiah?! “Make straight in the desert a highway.” Clean up these lines for us, O God, and give us food and jobs, take away the pandemic, make it easy because it’s been so hard.
Until I read the next three words of Isaiah: “for our God.” Oh my. God is not building the highway, we are. It’s up to us. There’s no detour. No shortcut to Bethlehem. It will take much longer than eight minutes. It will take more than Mike Watts. It will take all of our resolve, creativity, money, time, energy, commitment, faith, and endurance. Did I leave anything out?
Yes, one more thing, at least, lest we think we don’t know enough to build a road or make a real difference: “We have been given all that is necessary for our mission in the world, for our sanctification, and for our service to God.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0202
December 2, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, in whom “the Church’s life and mission are a joyful participation in Christ’s ongoing life and work.”*
When my Grandma was a little girl she fell down a well and it has had profound consequences for her family ever since.
For one, her resulting fear of water somehow got into our DNA. Few of her descendants swim or spend time around water. We like to say we sink more than swim but no matter how we spin it we seem to avoid anything to do with water. To our detriment. I wish it was different.
The other result? I wonder what it was like in that deep dank well in the early 1900s in Wheeling, West Virginia; what terror Grandma felt, what pleas for help she screamed, what negotiations she held with God? It will never be verified (Grandma died in 1998 at the age of 97) but could Grandma’s deep well experience be the beginning of her deep faith? She became the matriarch of the family and the one who passed on the faith to her sons and ultimately to me.
It is a good Advent spiritual practice to remember our heritage; all those who passed the faith on to us.
My list includes grandma, Mom and Dad; my high school youth group adult advisor Hortie; family and friends who helped me through cancer; members of three churches I have served across 37 years; Jim, Sheila and David, pastors who paved the way for me here in Santa Fe; and my wife Jenny whose spiritual depth and wisdom continues to astound and sustain me.
In the opening words of the Gospel of Mark it is clear Jesus didn’t simply show up one day; he was the recipient of the life and faith of prophets like Isaiah, Malachi, Elijah, and John who prepared the way for him.
Who has prepared the way for you? Who has made a difference in your life and faith? And who might write your name on their list?
Grace and peace,
Harry
*Book of Order F-1.0201
December 1, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Gospel announces the nearness of God’s kingdom.” *
March 31, 1943. The opening night of the musical “Oklahoma!” at the St. James Theater on Broadway. Most of us know the 1955 movie version, and many of its songs by heart, but I wonder what it was like to sit there that night in a dark theater in the depths of World War II with despair and fear sitting next to you, joy nowhere to be seen, and hoping something could help us forget these days for a few hours.
Then the curtain rises, the darkness lifts, and the audience is transported to a cornfield-yellow morning with Curly on horseback riding through the fields underneath blue skies and clouds, and a song bursts forth: “There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow. . .”
I bet you’ve already started to sing the rest !
I think of this scene as I read the beginning verses of Mark’s Gospel, our lectionary passage for the second Sunday of Advent. It, too, was a terrible and dark time. People were suffering, great and deep. Rome’s brutish ways had taken their toll. Nero’s persecution in 63 AD and the Jewish Revolt in 67-70 AD left Jerusalem devastated, the Temple destroyed, and the hopes of the people shattered.
Then Mark steps in: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, Son of God.” These few words were the first of its kind, a new genre of writing, the Gospel, and shine light on the love of God that is still present and real even in the darkest of times.
How these words ushered in a much-needed hope and set the stage for new beginnings!
That’s what Advent does for us. These next twenty-four days are a time to prepare for hope’s return. To anticipate light to pierce our darkness. To sit and wait for a curtain to rise and see Emmanuel, “God-with-us,” a baby child, waiting patiently and quietly for our eyes to adjust to a new day.
I love the hymns of Advent preparation, in the minor key like “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” but these days I will probably catch myself humming quietly, “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
November 30, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Gospel announces the nearness of God’s kingdom.” *
March 31, 1943. The opening night of the musical “Oklahoma!” at the St. James Theater on Broadway. Most of us know the 1955 movie version, and many of its songs by heart, but I wonder what it was like to sit there that night in a dark theater in the depths of World War II with despair and fear sitting next to you, joy nowhere to be seen, and hoping something could help us forget these days for a few hours.
Then the curtain rises, the darkness lifts, and the audience is transported to a cornfield-yellow morning with Curly on horseback riding through the fields underneath blue skies and clouds, and a song bursts forth: “There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow. . .”
I bet you’ve already started to sing the rest !
I think of this scene as I read the beginning verses of Mark’s Gospel, our lectionary passage for the second Sunday of Advent. It, too, was a terrible and dark time. People were suffering, great and deep. Rome’s brutish ways had taken their toll. Nero’s persecution in 63 AD and the Jewish Revolt in 67-70 AD left Jerusalem devastated, the Temple destroyed, and the hopes of the people shattered.
Then Mark steps in: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, Son of God.” These few words were the first of its kind, a new genre of writing, the Gospel, and shine light on the love of God that is still present and real even in the darkest of times.
How these words ushered in a much-needed hope and set the stage for new beginnings!
That’s what Advent does for us. These next twenty-four days are a time to prepare for hope’s return. To anticipate light to pierce our darkness. To sit and wait for a curtain to rise and see Emmanuel, “God-with-us,” a baby child, waiting patiently and quietly for our eyes to adjust to a new day.
I love the hymns of Advent preparation, in the minor key like “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” but these days I will probably catch myself humming quietly, “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
November 25, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, through whom “the Christian year keeps us centered in Christ as we seek to proclaim the story of our faith, grow as Jesus’ disciples, and serve Christ’s mission.” *
We have holy days before us.
Advent begins this Sunday, November 29, and will accompany us day by day to Christmas Eve.
Unlike the Christmas season, these days are not flashy. They won’t lure us into buying anything, save perhaps an Advent calendar. It’s hymns are in the minor key. It’s days get shorter and darker. There are no Advent gifts (at least I never received any!), no traditional Advent meals, no Advent outfits, and no Advent video or board games.
But it does have a wreathe and some candles. The Advent Wreathe began with German Lutherans in the 16th century and became popular in the 19th century after a German pastor who, working with poor children in Hamburg, made a large wooden ring out of an old cartwheel and placed 24 candles on it, twenty red and four white. Each day a candle was lit while asking if Christmas had come yet. The Advent wreathe came to the United States in the 1930s. Today in our tradition, we have five candles representing Faith, Hope, Joy, Love and Christ.
We will still light them this year despite the pandemic, and because of it. How we need to remember faith in a time of uncertainty, see hope in the middle of despair, experience joy when sadness can easily take over, share love because we all need it, and welcome a little child to remind us of God’s Spirit finding room in our lives once again.
I do believe these holy days have come just in time.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order W-1.0202
November 24, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, through whom “Holiness is God’s gift to the Church.” *
I miss the holidays, their rituals and celebrations.
We still have them, of course, but they seem different this year. Before the pandemic they happened more effortlessly, with the familiar fanfare, and we could experience them without worry: Easter with its focus on spring and new life, chocolate and family; July 4th with its summer picnics and barbecues, pancakes on the plaza and fireworks; Labor Day as our annual reminder that summer is over, fall is here and so is school.
Now, Thanksgiving. I had plans of being with family back in Michigan but cancelled them to be safe and to keep others safe with the pandemic raging. As one who tried to be so very careful and still tested positive I know how easy it is to get it. I can only hope, though with little backing, that the estimated 40% of Americans who plan to travel to be with family this week will return safely and free of the virus.
Holidays by definition, are holy days, deeply important to our culture and to our psyches. Holy days. What a grand concept when these days seem anything but! How important it is to be reminded of God’s presence in our days, of God’s breath, of God’s deep love infused into the world.
I look forward to the day when we can observe holidays without first checking the number of Covid cases or worrying about whether our actions might jeopardize our health and that of others.
When that day comes I hope we have learned that holidays are truly holy days which serve to deepen our connections with others and heighten our reverence for all that is holy and sacred and a recipient of our thanks.
Happy thanksgiving to you this year. May it be safe and may it be holy.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302b
November 19, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Gospel announces the nearness of God’s kingdom, bringing good news to all who are impoverished, sight to all who are blind, freedom to all who are oppressed, and proclaiming the Lord’s favor upon all creation.” *
He got down on the floor and played with us. That’s what I remember most.
This well-known man, one of the greatest preachers of his or any generation, stayed at our home one night when I was very young. His name was George Buttrick. You may know the name. He was pastor of Madison Ave. Presbyterian Church in New York City and then became professor and preacher to Harvard University. For me, though, he was always the man that played with my brothers and me.
In preparing for the sermon this Sunday on Matthew 25:31-46, the famous passage separating the sheep from the goats and “What you do for these brothers and sisters of mine, you do for me,” I came across his words.
“We are asked not about our creed or our worship or our standing in the community, but what have you done for that welfare family on the other side of town? The hungry, the thirsty, the physically afflicted and the prisoner are here made the test.”
It’s not about judging others, you see, or seeking to verify their stories of need. Jesus didn’t ask us to do that. He only asks that when we look into the face of any human being we see his face as well.
I can hardly imagine a world that operates this way. But if it did, we might have a chance for “a radical new social structure,” as Elaine Pagels says, “based on the God-given dignity and value of every human being.”
A world modeled on Jesus, where we look each other in the eye, where we care for each other, where we learn from Jesus how to live and to love.
And I might add, where we get down on the floor and play with children. Thank you, Dr. Buttrick, for doing this for me. A simple gesture but what a difference it makes.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
November 17, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church participates in God’s mission for the transformation of creation and humanity by proclaiming to all people the good news of God’s love.” *
In this week leading up to Pledge Sunday all sorts of memories come flooding back about giving. Yesterday I wrote about giving my brother cardboard tubes one Christmas when I was small, my first act of giving. Now I recall a cardboard box in the shape of a church for One Great Hour of Sharing. Remember those?
I was in the second grade, we had just moved to Pasadena from Wooster, and I was in a church school classroom with lots of children. The teacher was talking about how we could help people with our coins. Photographs filled the wall of people and places that would receive our quarters, dimes, and nickels.
What I remember most is the face of a little blonde girl who had cancer. I didn’t really know what cancer was then (I since found out in more ways than I ever imagined) but I was determined to help her by dropping all the coins I could find through the little slit in the church’s roof. I still hear the coins rattle and jostle and feel the weight of the church in my hands as I give it to the teacher.
I guess I still feel the weight of the church. I still look to the church to help others. I still hope my coins can help little girls with cancer and other people in need.
So I plan to do that again this year, not by giving my coins in a cardboard box that looks like a church but online (or by mail to the church) as we join together in dedicating our gifts this Pledge Sunday, November 22.
I hope that little girl survived cancer. And I hope our pledges see the faces of people, one by one, as we “participate in God’s mission for the transformation of creation and humanity.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
November 16, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “calls the Church into being, giving it all that is necessary for its mission in the world, for its sanctification, and for its service to God.” *
I still remember the look of disappointment on my brother’s face.
It was Christmas Eve in Wooster, Ohio, and, keeping with the custom of German families, we were opening our gifts. I must have been only three or four and, for the first time, I decided I would not only receive gifts but give them. It was a big step.
I was so excited wrapping Ray’s gifts (I gave him more than one!) and couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. His excitement soon turned to disappointment. He didn’t say much, he never really did, but his look told me all I needed to know. A gift of cardboard rolls from paper towels and toilet paper was not what he hoped for or imagined.
I didn’t have any money then, and I had never given a gift before. I apparently played with cardboard rolls and wanted to share them with my brother.
Since those first Christmas Eve cardboard rolls, I hope I have given gifts that mean something, that do something for others, that lift people up and take them somewhere, to places of joy and gratitude, to filling a need and showing a bit of compassion.
We all have a chance this Sunday to give our own gifts. It is the day when we dedicate our pledges for 2021 to support the life, ministry, and mission of our church. It is an important year to do this. We can’t be together, do the things we normally do, reach out and grab someone’s hand, someone’s life, and say we’re glad you’re here, how might we help, good to see you, to make a difference in their lives and our world.
So please prayerfully consider what your gift this year might mean to others, to the church, to God, to you.
I gave a gift of cardboard once. It wasn’t my best gift. It wasn’t much at all. But it was a start.
How fortunate I am, then, to be part of a church, which keeps showing me and reminding me what it means to give.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0202
November 12, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who, as “members of the body of Christ” we are “ sent out to pursue the mission of God and to participate in God’s new creation.” *
This whole idea of fellowship and community got into me at an early age.
Ever since I was six years old I was always organizing a club with my friends. One year for Christmas my oldest brother and my Dad even built me a little clubhouse behind our garage. My friends and I would spend our days there, doing art projects, playing games and sports, dreaming up big schemes of who-knows-what, and having the greatest time together.
Funny how I was always president. But it was my clubhouse and my idea!
It is no wonder, then, that I have been a pastor of a church my entire career. A church is not a club, let’s be clear, but it is a place where community is created and enjoyed. Our new mission statement says we are “to create authentic Christian community” and I thank you for doing that, and being that.
Jenny and I are reminded once again of the power of community as we have been in quarantine with Covid. Your outpouring of love, support, and offers of food and assistance has been touching and gratefully received. Thank you, thank you!
We are on the mend, no doubt with the love we have received from you. We are indeed humbled by your caring and know, with great hope, the love you have shown us is also duplicated across the community. How important the church is in times like these!
Community is something I have tried to create all my life. Now I know, once again, it’s also something you receive.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302d
November 10, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “announces the nearness of God’s kingdom, bringing good news to all who are impoverished.” *
Meet Dorothy Day.
She’s another one of the “Dangerous Dozen” I write about from time to time. She was born in Brooklyn in 1897, grew up in a tenement in Chicago’s south side, arrested and imprisoned in 1917 for advocating for women’s suffrage in front of the White House, and spoke out against World War I. She embraced Christianity during the Great Depression after an adventurous and controversial life, drawn to the Church little by little with the beauty of its liturgy as well as its spiritual discipline.
Once that decision was made, spurred on by the birth of her daughter, she became a fierce advocate for the Gospel. Along with Peter Maurin, a former member of the religious order called the Christian Brothers, she began The Catholic Worker, an eight-page tabloid that combined her faith and her convictions, reminding people through her actions that “God is as close as the closest human being.”
Dorothy Day served the poor, creating three dozen houses of hospitality across the country where the poor could live in community and be treated with dignity.
She seemed always in the midst of controversy for whenever she saw injustice or inequality, she saw Jesus being crucified anew. Throughout her life she attracted Christians who were inspired to do more than sit in pews or serve on church councils. Her work was becoming so popular that the Church hierarchy began to object.
Radical, hands-on, living with the poor, a pacifist, a threat to secular and religious authorities alike, Dorothy Day embodied Christ in a broken world.
We can easily give in to the charge that Christianity is no longer relevant and has lost is ability to change and heal the world. Then I think of Dorothy Day.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
November 6, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church’s life and mission are a joyful participation in Christ’s ongoing life and work.” *
Are you ready to be the church?
If the pandemic and the elections have taught us anything, the church at its best is needed more than anytime in recent memory.
Jesus tells us what the church “at its best” looks like in Matthew 25:14-30 in the Parable of the Talents. A talent was a unit of money approximating fifteen years of earnings by a day laborer and the master of the household, departing on a journey, gave one servant five talents, another two, and the other one. The first two doubled their talents while the third buried his in a hole and gave back the same amount when the master returned.
The master was livid with the cautious third servant! He called him worthless and had him thrown into the outer darkness where there would be “weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
What gives? What’s wrong with being cautious? Why be upset with the one who made sure it was safe?
The Rev. John Buchanan, retired Senior Pastor of Fourth Presbyterian Church in Chicago and father of our own Diane Buchanan, explains: “The greatest risk of all, it turns out, is not to risk anything, not to care deeply and profoundly enough about anything to invest deeply, to give your heart away, and in the process risk everything. The greatest risk of all is to play it safe, to live cautiously and prudently.”
How long have we been taught that religion is a pretty timid, non-risky venture? Probably too long.
Church was never supposed to be this way. From its inception the church followed a bold, brave, wall-breaking, norm-busting, justice-seeking visionary leader who calls us to reach high and care deeply.
The church at its best.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0201
PS: Join Andrew Black and me this Sunday, 9-9:50 am for an Acts II discussion on how the church can be vital and faithful in these challenging times.
November 5, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church participates in God’s mission for the transformation of creation and humanity by proclaiming to all people the good news of God’s love.” *
As I write we still don’t know yet who will be president.
As I read, some of the headlines of newspaper columnists suggest no matter who wins, America has lost. I can’t bear to read anymore. I can’t bear to add more bad news to a nation where bad is already overworked.
As I listen I hear people talk of being fearful. About what lies ahead. The state of our nation. The rumblings within us. The awareness we are a divided people. We always have been but the division seems more acute, somehow more entrenched today.
As I sit here I remember the word loving. It’s the third and final word of our stewardship theme. We’ve talked about faithful and hopeful thus far and now it’s loving’s turn.
Can we hold loving in our arms a bit? Can loving lay the groundwork to repair and rebuild? Can loving be part of the transformation of creation and humanity?
As I wait I l see loving looking back at me, wondering what we’re going to do with it.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
November 3, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, in whom “God has put all things under the Lordship of Jesus Christ and has made Christ Head of the Church, which is his body.” *
The sanctuary was packed.
It was Berlin in the 1930s when Hitler was taking over every institution in Germany, including the Church. Not all churches gave in, however, and those who resisted were known as the Confessing Church with leaders such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Karl Barth, and Martin Niemöller.
I heard this story from a woman who was a member of my Dad’s church in Akron, Ohio. She was a little girl in the Sanctuary that morning when SS guards planned to arrest the pastor as he preached from the pulpit. Word had gone around of the arrest beforehand so a plan was made and people showed up at church that Sunday.
The sanctuary was packed. Not even room to move around. People filled the pews and the aisles so the SS could not get reach the pastor.
The congregation prayed. When they recited The Lord’s Prayer in unison the words filled the space.
The congregation sang. When they sang “A Mighty Fortress is our God,” the very walls seemed to reverberate and sway.
It was a service like no other, one that eventually protected the pastor and kept alive their resistance.
It was a day this little girl way back when would never forget.
Now I know we can’t sing together. I know we can’t sit close to each other. I know we should not be in crowds. Someday, but not these days.
Yet on this Election Day, when the outcome will determine the direction of our nation for years to come, I hope we might remember a faith that crowds out evil, a crowd that lifts up a vision of hope and compassion, and a song that is sung so loudly that even the strongest walls of division might reverberate and sway, and one day come tumbling down.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0201
November 2, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose gospel “announces the nearness of God’s kingdom, bringing good news to all who are impoverished, sight to all who are blind, freedom to all who are oppressed, and proclaiming the Lord’s favor upon all creation.” *
Anxiety: a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome. (Online Dictionary)
Pretty much sums it up for me. And I know I am not alone.
In scouring the news the day before the elections I have come across an abundance of articles on stress and anxiety, like these first lines of a New York Times article: “In a year of unprecedented stress, the nation collectively appears to be heading toward peak anxiety this week.”
Oops, too late. Already here.
So you may want to take the advice of anxiety experts who suggest practicing meditation, tackling a home project, or getting out in nature. Might I also suggest we sing a song in our hymnal to a tune by John Bell (the composer of so many of the Celtic songs we sing) with words by Archbishop Tutu during the height of apartheid:
Love is stronger than hate;
Light is stronger than darkness;
Life is stronger than death.
Victory is ours;
Victory is ours through God who loves us.
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
October 30, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose Church “affirms the Gospel of Jesus Christ as received from the prophets and apostles, and stands in continuity with God’s mission through the ages.” *
For all the Saints.
I can’t write these words without humming the great hymn we sing to honor them. We’ll sing it again this Sunday on All Saints Day, but this time from our own home. How I will miss hearing you sing beside me as we share the names and memories of those who have died in the past year.
All Saints Day. It’s been on November 1st since the 8th century. It was the solution of the early church who wanted to recognize all the saints with their own day of remembrance but there were not enough days of the year.
Since the early days of Christianity we are all recognized as saints, all you who read this letter, who follow Christ, from the “garden-variety” Christian to giants in the faith.
So we gather all the saints together to lift up their names accompanied by photos and candles and bells . . . along with memories, tears, and thanks. It will be a central theme of our video service that you can access through this eNews.
I will remember my Dad who died in July, and thank him for being my Dad, how influential he has been in my life, how I miss him.
Thank you, friends I miss and those I never knew. Thank you for sharing your journey with us.
For all the Saints.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302d
October 29, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, through whom we are “free to live in the lively, joyous reality of the grace of God.” *
Jesus must be exhausted.
If you are following our Sunday services on video you know we continue to watch Jesus tussle with the authorities in the Temple early in Holy Week. Pharisees, Sadducees, chief priests, elders, and Herodians all show up in Matthew 21-23 to question Jesus and his ways, verse after verse, chapter after chapter.
If Jesus isn’t exhausted by now, I am.
Day after day, month after month, we find ourselves in great conflict over the fractious issues of our own day. Like in Jesus’ day, it isn’t a petty sight, with all sides going at each other with increased acrimony and invective. Even Jesus, in 23:1-12, was getting fed up as Matthew immediately follows this story with Jesus pronouncing a litany of “woe to you’s . . .”
I must admit, my heart can’t take many more “woe to you’s.” Any more accusations and insults. Any more of people acting badly, saying hurtful things, inciting violence.
So I hope you might join me in a chorus of “blessings to you” instead. Blessings for those who work to eradicate racism and white privilege (thank you, Friday class, for confronting these issues!), who bring civility to heated conversations, who rise above injustice and go the distance in serving those who are hurting. Blessings to you!
And to those caught in cycles of fear, hate, hopelessness, distress, and apt to lash out at others and the world. Blessings to you as well!
Now I know that blessings can seem inadequate and sometimes out of place, but I will try, if only to bring some sense of blessing to the air I breathe, along with a great hope that in doing so these blessings might bring some small peace to a fractured world.
Grace and peace, and many blessings.
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0204
October 27, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, through whom the “Church receives its truth and appeal, its holiness ̧ and its unity.” *
Her name was Isabella and she was a slave. She was a leading advocate for equal rights for African Americans and women. She’s couldn’t read but she was admired by the luminaries of her day. Frederick Douglass described her as “a strange compound of wit and wisdom, of wild enthusiasm and flint-like common sense.” Harriett Beecher Stowe, author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin, called her a prophet.
We know her as Sojourner Truth.
I knew her name but learned so much more about this amazing woman in A Dangerous Dozen, 12 Christians who Threatened the Status Quo but Taught Us to Live Like Jesus.
When she changed her name she understood her mission to be one of “testifying to the hope that was in her.”
Her faith made her an unstoppable force, at times a threat to the establishment. She had no trouble standing up to the powerful.
Illiterate, she had others read the Bible to her and believed that God was right here, right now, calling us to make a difference in the world and not simply wait for a new world to come.
Remember her name. Especially when we are told to question facts and science and medicine. Especially when hope is hard to find and faith is frail. Especially when God seems far away. Especially when an election looms before us.
Sojourner Truth. Thank you for living up to your name. Thank you for teaching us to live like Jesus.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0205
October 26, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church is to be a community of hope, rejoicing in the sure and certain knowledge that, in Christ, God is making a new creation.” *
Without it faithful and loving seem incomplete. Without it a crucial ingredient is missing, leaving a void that makes the future less inviting and more scary.
I am talking about being hopeful. It is the center of our stewardship campaign that has already begun and lasts through Sunday, November 22.
Being hopeful is also a spiritual practice.
Living through these pandemic days brings to mind other words like frustration, fear, depression, and loss. Being hopeful is an antidote that can stare down these and most any word and compels us to look to a future where compassion replaces rage (I’m hearing this sentiment more in recent days). Where welcoming arms stretch beyond barriers. Where reconciliation overcomes divisions.
As I look to the future of our church I keep hopeful close by, like a trusted advisor talking in my ear. God is making a new creation, hopeful tells us, out of the old. God is opening new ways, hopeful says, to be our ways. God is tapping into the prophets again, hopeful reminds us, lifting up ideals of peace and justice and reconciliation.
I hope you will continue to support our mission and ministry in the coming year. There is much to do, more people to lift up than ever before, and more ways to be a community of hope.
Oh yes, and hopeful will not let us down or let us go. God won’t either.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0301
October 24, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, where our “congregation is the church engaged in the mission of God in its particular context.” *
A box of water and a granola bar. With thanks.
This is our outreach and message starting Monday morning on our patio, facing the Convention Center across the street from the church, to thank people who are voting at this site.
Jesus talked about offering people a cup of cold water. Instead of a cup or a plastic bottle, we’ll be offering water in an environmentally-friendly cardboard box.
Jesus offered people food on a hillside, at a beach, around a table. We’ll be offering a granola bar on a patio.
This is the idea and the gift of member Janice Mayer, new Executive Director of the Cancer Foundation of New Mexico, who knows how important it is to engage with our neighborhood, despite the pandemic and, indeed, in response to it.
We are looking for volunteers to be on the patio and greet people as they come by, leading up to Election Day, as long as supplies last.
If you are interested in helping with this ministry of hospitality and gratitude, done in a safe and socially-distanced way, please contact Delicia at frontdesk@fpcsantafe.org.
How good it is to be engaged in ministry, in our context, and in our neighborhood!
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order G-1.01
October 23, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life.” *
Faithful. Hopeful. Loving.
These three words are central to our Christian faith and journey. They are also the theme for our Stewardship campaign this fall, which is starting now and concludes on Sunday, November 22.
Each day this week in our eNews, and in the weeks to come, will be scripture, a brief devotion, and a prayer centered on one of these three words.
Rev. Dr. Diane Moffett, Executive Director of the Presbyterian Mission Agency, ties these words to our denomination’s Matthew 25 initiative, of which we are a part, in a recent video. In lifting up this vision of building congregational vitality, dismantling structural racism, and eradicating systemic poverty she says we must have “feet for faith, hands for hope, and legs to love.”
I hope we will. I hope we will be part of this great effort to heal our world using our feet, hands, and legs, and our money and resources. It will take all of these.
Please remember our Service Sunday, November 1, and the following weekend when you will receive a stewardship packet and a loaf of bread on Saturday, and share communion together on November 8th at our Sunday gathering at 10 am. Information is in this and other eNews.
In this broken and fearful world, and in these days of anxiety and hardship, I am so thankful to be part of this community that is so faithful, hopeful, and loving.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0301
October 22, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life.” *
Faithful. Hopeful. Loving.
These three words are central to our Christian faith and journey. They are also the theme for our Stewardship campaign this fall, which is starting now and concludes on Sunday, November 22.
Each day this week in our eNews, and in the weeks to come, will be scripture, a brief devotion, and a prayer centered on one of these three words.
Rev. Dr. Diane Moffett, Executive Director of the Presbyterian Mission Agency, ties these words to our denomination’s Matthew 25 initiative, of which we are a part, in a recent video. In lifting up this vision of building congregational vitality, dismantling structural racism, and eradicating systemic poverty she says we must have “feet for faith, hands for hope, and legs to love.”
I hope we will. I hope we will be part of this great effort to heal our world using our feet, hands, and legs, and our money and resources. It will take all of these.
Please remember our Service Sunday, November 1, and the following weekend when you will receive a stewardship packet and a loaf of bread on Saturday, and share communion together on November 8th at our Sunday gathering at 10 am. Information is in this and other eNews.
In this broken and fearful world, and in these days of anxiety and hardship, I am so thankful to be part of this community that is so faithful, hopeful, and loving.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0301
October 21, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, in whom “the good news of the Gospel is that the triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit— creates, redeems, sustains, rules and transforms all things and all people.” *
I wouldn’t mess with Jesus. Others tried, as we see in the Gospel of Matthew following Palm Sunday, and Jesus left them speechless, fearful of the crowds whose palm branches waved him in, frustrated, put in their place, amazed, and astounded.
By Tuesday of Holy Week the Jewish and secular authorities tried one last question posed by a lawyer: “Which is the greatest commandment?” While my mind is flipping through all ten of them, Jesus promptly answers with “love God and love your neighbor.” Done.
In the second it took Jesus to answer he managed to sum up the goal and purpose of our lives.
Yet Matthew records no response from anyone. Not a peep nor a sigh. I understand. The challenge is so huge, the possibilities of this love so vast, that it leaves me speechless as well. Where do I start? How do we do it?
Before we can take another breath Jesus asks a question that seems far from the brilliance of his just-uttered response but actually answers our question and perhaps our yearning: “What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?”
“The Son of David,” they replied. Good, solid answer for that day and time but they missed it, totally, by reducing the Messiah to an offspring of David, a King who rose to great heights but also sunk to magnificent lows.
In short, their idea is too small, too limited, too pedestrian, too much tied to the confines of their culture.
Instead, the Messiah, the son of the Messiah, Jesus the Christ, God’s spirit, the reign of God, should bring us to the tips of our toes, with eyes lifted up, and our breathing a bit faster, so we might see hope, taste mystery, imagine peace, and hear the transformation of all things and all people.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
October 20, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church is to be a community of love, where sin is forgiven, reconciliation is accomplished, and the dividing walls of hostility are torn down.” *
They woke up people, knocking on doors, screaming and pleading for peace. Hours earlier a mother and her children were run over by a car driven by an 18 year-old IRA supporter fleeing the British army. He was shot, his car careened off the road in Belfast, and struck the family as they walked along the sidewalk. The mother survived, but the children were killed instantly. She later took her own life.
Mairead Corrigan Maguire, the woman’s sister, led the knocking, door after door, during this night of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. Other women joined her. One was Betty Williams.
Both Mairead and Betty soon organized a march down a busy Belfast street that long divided the Protestants and the Catholics. People came from both sides of the street and marched together. It was the beginning of the Peace People movement that led to Mairead and Betty receiving the 1976 Nobel Peace Prize for their many efforts to help bring about peace in Northern Ireland.
I heard this story from Mairead at a PeaceJam conference in Michigan. Peacejam is an amazing organization that brings Nobel Peace Laureates together with young people. Each year I would bring our youth group from Ohio to Kalamazoo to be with other youth from across the Midwest; black, brown, white, rich, poor, some from churches, some formerly in gangs, many from neither, to be inspired by Nobel Peace Prize winners who shared their stories and took the time to be with them.
What we learned that year, and every other? Peace does not come from violence. Peace does not happen by shooting people.
I write all of this in response to the horrendous news of the aborted plot to kidnap and kill Michigan governor Gretchen Whitmer, and the utter silence of many of our political leaders. I do not expect them to knock on doors and scream for peace (wouldn’t it be amazing if they did?!) but, at the very least, simply to hear their disgust over such plans and words of thanksgiving that Gov. Whitmer is safe.
I wonder if our youth expect to hear words of compassion or thanksgiving anymore? I wonder what they think about all the troubles in our country? I wonder if we are really teaching them that there is a better way to be a nation?
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0301
October 19, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, in whose name the “Church is sent out to bear witness to the good news of reconciliation with God, with others, and with all creation.” *
The signs on the barrier fence, properly social-distanced every six feet or so, sternly warns “Do No Enter.” So we dutifully stayed outside the area, some twenty yards from the wooden crate-like structure that once was the obelisk in the middle of the historic Plaza in Santa Fe.
A week ago the plaza was boiling over. Now today, early on a still and quiet morning with the October sun peeking through the buildings and the trees, four of us were armed only with prayers in our hands and hearts, all clergy leaders of the Interfaith Leadership Alliance—a Rabbi, a Methodist pastor, a Unitarian Universalist minister, and me. A person with a camera captured the scene for Facebook Live. A few people strolled by, no doubt wondering why we were there. No one stopped to listen.
We were there this morning because the Mayor asked us. He came at the end of our final blessing to thank us for holding this space with prayer, offering a song instead of shouts, providing hope for conversation and reconciliation, lifting up a vision of peace. We will be there next Monday as well, and the one after that, hoping that these prayers and our presence, and the presence of others, will open and hold a space for a hopeful future.
Even before the mayor’s invitation, we were already talking about doing something to respond to the obelisk coming down. Our nation is so fractured, as is our world; what can we do for our own community? So we came and we prayed.
There’s a long road before us, as there was leading up to this moment. There’s a painful history that has forced people to take sides. But I hope there is a future that will bring us together, no matter who we are or where we come from, and begin to mend the fractures.
May it also be a road strewn with welcome signs, bearing witness to our nation that here in Santa Fe we know the power of peace and love and reconciliation.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0205
October 16, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “by the power of the Spirit, this one living God is incarnate in Jesus Christ, who came to live in the world, die for the world, and be raised again to new life.” *
Back in the old days, when we actually worshiped together live and in-person, I would sometimes find myself choked up leading worship. It would happen without warning during a hymn, lifting up people in prayer, while giving a sermon, or simply being together with you all.
The only day I knew I would have to take a deep breath, wipe away a tear, or pause because I couldn’t speak was All Saints Day.
It is on this day in between the verses of our closing hymn, “For all the Saints,” that we say the names of all those who have died in the past year. I have said the names of people I love, church members, friends, relatives, my brother, my Mom. This year I will say my Dad’s name.
Please join me this year in celebrating the saints, a name we can all claim as followers of Christ. Please send the names and photographs of someone dear to you who has passed away since last All Saints Day to office@fpcsantafe.org by Tuesday, October 27 and we will include them in our virtual Sunday worship service on November 1.
“For all the saints, who from their labors rest . . . Alleluia, alleluia!
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
October 14, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church’s life and mission are a joyful participation in Christ’s ongoing life and work.” *
When Jesus asked for a coin from the Pharisees and Herodians, who were pressing him on the hot topic of taxes (Matthew 22:15-22), he was tapping into deep emotions and symbols of his day. On the coin was the inscription “Tiberius Caesar, august and divine son of Augustus, high priest.” Within Jesus’s community this coin, used specifically for a poll tax, represented oppression and blasphemy.
We could just as well hand him one of our own coins with “In God we Trust” that has been the official motto of the United States since 1956, put forth to declare our difference with the Soviet Union and communism.
We could hand him our coins that, since 1909, have all included images of dead white Presidents. Before that our coins bore images of women and native Americans.
What about our nation’s monuments, like the obelisk on the plaza that was pulled down yesterday? What have they represented in the past and what does it mean to see many of them taken down the past several months?
We have a lot of work in front of us as a nation as we come to terms with our past and begin to re-from our understanding of who we are today.
Here’s a start: Treat people and their needs as holy. In Jesus’ day people lived under a crushing debt system, the resulting injustices leading to widespread poverty and hardship. The practice continues today.
But what would our nation look like, along with its symbols, if we actually treated people and their needs as holy?
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0201
October 13, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, through whom “the good news of the Gospel is that the triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit— creates, redeems, sustains, rules, and transforms all things and all people.” *
Two weeks apparently is not enough. We need to keep praying. Pray anytime, of course, but we are setting Wednesdays as a reminder day.
We will continue to meet each Wednesday, 5:15-5:30 pm. We didn’t really have a name for this prayer time but now we do. We are calling it Dear God: A Time of Prayer for Our Community, State, Nation, and World.
And that’s what we will do. Tomorrow the Rev. Andrew Black will lead this prayer time. I hope you will join us. You may need it but I’m pretty sure the world needs it even more.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
October 12, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose church exhibits “a new openness in its own membership, becoming in fact as well as in faith a community of women and men of all ages, races, ethnicities, and worldly conditions, made one in Christ by the power of the Spirit, as a visible sign of the new humanity.” *
This “new humanity” was present in the life of Hildegard of Bingen, one of the dangerous dozen I wrote about in my last letter. With men dominating the history of Christianity, at least the history that comes down to us in official church channels, it feels so good and right to talk about a woman, and such an amazing and influential woman at that.
Hildegard was born in Germany in 1098, the tenth child of a noble family, and grew up in the turbulent 12th century with its crusades, political tumult, and conflicts between popes and emperors. She was a visionary in both uses of the term—as one who received divine visions and one who had a gift for visioning and strategic thinking.
The author of A Dangerous Dozen, C.K. Robertson, writes: “She was a counselor to emperors and popes, an inspiration to the famous and the common, and a threat to those with small minds and petty jealousies. Revered in her own lifetime as a living saint, she failed — to this day—to make it through the official process of canonization.”
Any one who is a “threat to those with small minds and petty jealousies” would get my vote as a saint.
She was a woman of courage, displayed a “non-anxious presence” in a time of great anxiety and unrest, and maneuvered her way through the politics of a patriarchal age.
And she gave us music. “I am, of course, the lyre and harp of God’s kindness,” she wrote. While I don’t know the songs she sang I would sure love to sing along, and sing loudly enough for our world to hear.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0404
October 9, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church seeks reform and fresh direction, (as) it looks to Jesus Christ who goes ahead of us and calls us to follow him.” *
In looking for something else on my bookshelves my eyes rested on a book I always planned to read: A Dangerous Dozen: 12 Christians who threatened the status quo but taught us to live like Jesus.
Anytime I see dangerous and Christians in the same sentence my mind takes me to current headlines and issues supported by those who share our faith but not always our values and scriptural interpretation.
But these twelve. Christian. Dangerous. Threatens the status quo. Teaches us to live like Jesus.
These look like my kind of people. Paul of Tarsus, the Catalyst. Mary Magdalene, the Witness. Origin of Alexandria, the Innovator. Francis of Assisi, the Radical. Hildegard of Bingen, the Visionary. Thomas Cranmer, the Reformer. Sojourner Truth, the Liberator. Dorothy Day, the Activist. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Resister. Janani Luwum, the Revivalist. Oscar Romero, the Advocate. K. H. Ting, the Reconstructionist.
“Change is never easy,” the inside cover reads, “and it is often most threatening to those in institutional power, whether in society or the Church. Yet there are times when transformation is sorely needed, and it usually takes “troublemakers” to help bring it about . . . . These twelve women and men showed the world a different way of living. Like Jesus himself, they were not afraid to get their hands dirty as they challenged structures that would divide and repress.”
I have forgotten what book I was originally looking for; this is the one I can’t wait to read and this is the time to read it, to learn about troublemakers, to get our hands dirty, and to envision a world of their molding.
I wish they were with us now. We need them. But, then again, since Jesus goes ahead of us we might just be called to follow in similar ways. After all, no one said the list has to stop at a dozen.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0401
October 2, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, for whom the Church, affirming with the earliest Christians that he is Lord, “confesses that he is its hope.” *
Everything changed in 313 AD. Before that year Christianity was on the margins, an underground movement far from the halls of power, connected not to the establishment but with the poor, the outcast, the persecuted, and the oppressed.
What a shock it must have been when Emperor Constantine declared Christianity as the official religion of Rome! This is the same Rome that ruled Palestine with casual cruelty and executed Jesus. I can’t begin to fathom the effect this had upon these early followers of Christ.
As Richard Rohr wrote in a recent daily post: “It might be the single most unfortunate thing that happened to Christianity.”
Our scripture this week (Matthew 21:33-46) continues Jesus’ confrontation with the Temple authorities, the day after Palm Sunday, who were colluding with the exploitative economic and social policies of the Roman Empire. Jesus told an earlier parable which is quickly followed by a second one that leaves these authorities miffed and silent.
As post-313 Christians, we tend to soften Jesus’ conflicts with power. We might even want to interrupt Jesus before he goes too far with this second parable.
Walk away, Jesus! You made your point with the first one. The crowd is with you. Remember yesterday with all the palms waving? The authorities can’t touch you now. Your popularity is soaring.
But Jesus keeps going and does what we need to do today; keep in conversation with those with whom we disagree. Keep lifting up issues of justice. Support those who are being exploited. Don’t give in.
Christianity is not about winning popularity contests. It is about following the Christ who remains our hope in the midst of these unsettling days.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0204
September 30, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, where “the catholicity of the Church summons the Church to a deeper faith, a larger hope, and a more complete love as it bears witness to God’s grace.” *
I watched the debate last night. We need to pray for our country.
Pray without ceasing. Pray when you can. Pray when you breathe. Pray today. Pray each Wednesday with me at 5:15 pm for fifteen minutes on Zoom. (The link can be found in the eNews.)
Pray for a deeper faith to center and guide our thoughts and actions as we gaze upon Jesus, his life and ministry.
Pray for a larger hope as we lift up our nation, in all its frailties and yearnings, that it might one day more closely resemble a city set on a hill and a beacon of light for all people.
Pray for a more complete love that breaks down walls and lifts up the discouraged, the given-up, the distressed and the broken.
Please pray today. The world needs it. We need it.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302c
September 28, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose Church is sent to be Christ’s faithful evangelist . . .sharing with others a deep life of worship, prayer, fellowship, and service. *
Does prayer really work? I mean, does it really make a difference in such a violent, unsettling, and confusing world like ours?
I remember reading about a study in Washington DC a decade ago. Violence was on the rise so a group of people committed to pray for these neighborhoods for several months. At the end of the study violence had decreased by 40%.
Was this the result of prayer or were there other factors? Was it just a coincidence?
I’m not a researcher but a pastor. I’m not a community organizer but a follower of Christ. I’m not a skeptic but one that believes in the mystery and the power of God’s spirit.
So let us pray for our nation. Let us pray in these days leading up to the election, days so fraught with fear and anxiety.
I hope you will pray any day, any time, but let’s pray together as a congregation each Wednesday for at least fifteen minutes, more if you have time. I will be hosting a Zoom meeting starting this Wednesday 5:15-5:30 pm (MDT) so we might share this time together. Please join me if and when you can. If not, pray when you can, on the go, around a meal, in a busy time or place of quiet.
Wherever you are, whenever you pray, also light a candle as a reminder of Christ’s presence.
It’s only fifteen minutes, but who knows, it may make a world of difference, or at least for our nation.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302d
September 25, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church seeks to include all people and is never content to enjoy the benefits of Christian community for itself alone.” *
I think we should expand the words from the Book of Order above to say “to include all animals.”
In a world that has been so recklessly divided, animals bring us together. Can you think of anything else that does this these days?
So, in the spirit of Francis of Assisi, let us bless our animals. St. Francis Day is Sunday, October 4th. Please send a photo of your pet, or a short video, now (immediately) to the church office at office@fpcsantafe.org. The sooner the better!
Here is a blessing for the animals in our new Book of Common Worship that I will use:
Creator of all things and giver of all life,
let your blessing be upon all these animals.
May our relationship with them mirror your love,
and our care for them be an example of your bountiful mercy.
Grant the animals health and peace.
Strengthen us to love and care for them
as we strive to imitate the love of Jesus Christ
our Lord and your servant Francis. Amen.
Grace and peace, and thanks to our animals who bless us.
* Book of Order F-1.0302a
September 23, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who offers us the good news of the Gospel which through the triune God “creates, redeems, sustains, rules, and transforms all things and all people.” *
To be honest, I am at a loss for words. The death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg and what this means for the Supreme Court and our nation, the constant drumming of polls, and the political maneuvering leading up to the election leaves me exhausted and dizzy with worry.
Richard Rohr wrote yesterday in his daily blog that we should limit our exposure to the news to one hour a day. For our well-being. Sounds like sound advice. I’m game. Even Jesus did that, right? Got away to a mountain retreat? Checked out for a bit?
Then I remembered Jesus cleansed the Temple.
The scholars who put together the lectionary (a three-year cycle of scriptures to be read in worship) leaves out this story in 2020 and goes directly to the following morning when Jesus is back in the Temple talking with the religious authorities who were obviously miffed at his antics. Jesus was messing with power and money and authority. They all knew it.
But we don’t. Without the context we would never know that it was courageous for Jesus even to show his face again in the Temple, let alone the next morning. I don’t know about you but my thoughts would have taken my feet as far away as they could until things cooled down.
Jesus came back. He didn’t flee. He came back. He didn’t hide. He came back. He didn’t only watch the news for one hour a day. He came back. He stood up. He faced the authorities. He didn’t back down. He came back.
I hope I come back. I hope I don’t give into fear. I hope I don’t despair too much. If I do I might miss the good news still at work in this world, of a God who “creates, redeems, sustains, rules, and transforms all things and all people.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
September 21, 2021
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose church participates “in God’s mission to care for the needs of the poor, and lonely; to free people from sin, suffering, and oppression; and to establish Christ’s just, loving, and peaceable rule in the world.” *
Charles Campbell, preaching professor at Duke Divinity School, tells of the time he was channel-surfing and came upon an interview with television psychologist Dr. Phil. At one point the interviewer asked Dr. Phil, “If you could interview anyone in the world, past or present, who would it be?” Without hesitation, Dr. Phil replied, “Jesus Christ. I would like to have a conversation with him about the meaning of life.”
If this interview with Jesus were to take place sometime in the last few days I wonder if Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s name would come up?
And Jesus, what would you do with our fractured society, with its parts and pieces all strewn about?
I think Dr. Phil would soon come to regret his choice of an interviewee. There would be some tough questions thrown back at him, and us. Why are we not paying more attention to the status of women, the poor, the marginalized and oppressed? Why are we letting politics, and those with power, overshadow the life and legacy of Ruth Bader Ginsburg? Why aren’t we more concerned? Well?
As we might imagine, well-behaved interviewees, and saviors, seldom make history.
Jesus would turn all our assumptions upside down and every which way, and might even get us thinking that a tiny old Jewish woman wracked with cancer is more powerful than all the King’s men, because she did the heavy lifting of caring for people without power.
“Fight for the things you care about,” Justice Ginsburg said once, “but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.”
She did. I want to. I hope we will continue to do so despite the odds. There’s much more work to be done, like caring for the needs of the sick, poor, and lonely; freeing people from oppression; and establishing a just, loving, and peaceable world.
Grace and peace, and a world of thanks for the life of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0303
September 18, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ who, as his followers, are to “become priests for one another, praying for the world and for one another.” *
A few years ago a foot race was making the rounds on YouTube. Runners are lined up at the starting line but before it begins the official instructs those who grew up with both parents to please move forward two steps. Never went hungry? Move forward. Finished high school? Completed college? Keep moving forward. Never suffered from discrimination? Keep moving. Now, ready, set, go!
Guess who won the race?
We are becoming more and more aware of racism and white privilege. Don’t let up. Don’t think we’ve figured it out. Let’s keep examining our own life experience. Attend, if you can, the Zoom class each Friday 12:30-1:30 pm that is examining these issues and providing amazing resources.
And look at Scripture. In Matthew 20:1-16 a landowner goes to the marketplace early in the morning to find workers for his vineyard. They determine a fair wage and off they go. But the landowner comes back at 9 am for more workers, then noon, then 3 pm, and finally 5 pm. At the end of the day each is paid the same. The ensuing complaints by the early workers obscures what I think is most important for our own day.
The landowner came back.
All of these workers are the poorest of the poor and live hard and short lives. The landowner could have left the later workers in the marketplace since they weren’t there on time. We don’t know why they weren’t, scripture doesn’t say, just as we don’t know the hardship of being poor. Perhaps a child was sick and there was no medicine. Or they were homeless and couldn’t find a safe place to sleep. Or maybe there was not adequate transportation or they couldn’t afford it.
Whatever the reason the story suggests the system is not working. Then and now. The starting line is not the same for everyone, some have access to daily bread more than others, and it is too easy to blame the poor, or anyone who is different in any way.
Jesus offers an alternative to empire ways. An alternative society where we make sure there is enough for everyone, where we go back to make sure no one is left behind, where we “become priests for one another, praying for the world and for one another.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302a
September 16, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, and in God who “reconciles brokenness, makes all things new, and is still at work in the world.” *
What if?
What if in August of 1969 my family and I did not take a trip back to Ohio and the East coast to visit family and friends after moving to Pasadena two years earlier? Hold that thought for a moment.
The book Helter-Skelter describes the chaotic days of Charles Manson and his “family” and in one chapter tells of a night in August of 1969 when Manson and his followers went to a church in Pasadena to kill the minister. They tried the doors but they were locked so they moved on. A few days later they killed Sharon Tate and the LaBianca family. The rest is for history to sort out.
That was our church. That was the church where Dad was the minister.
What if we decided to stay home that August? What if Dad forgot an illustration for his sermon for Sunday and walked the block from our house to the church to retrieve it? What if he had a meeting that night? Too many “what ifs” can drive a person crazy.
How arbitrary life is, where a well-timed vacation and an infamous killer could have had disastrous consequences for me and my family. As we marked what would have been Dad’s 94th birthday yesterday, having died two months shy of it, we could have been remembering when Dad was taken from us one terrible night fifty-one years earlier.
Sadly, far too many families are remembering real times like this. The deaths of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor have raised our consciousness but their names are only two of too many. Why were they there when they were? Why in the world did they lose their life? And do we still remember them? Or have the ever-relentless news cycles buried them in favor of today’s breaking news?
Though our minds easily wander to some other place, to some other story, I trust God remembers. Though we hope that those who suffer loss and tragedy get over it, so we can move on, I trust God stays with them, and us, in our hurt and bewilderment.
In a Helter Skelter world like ours, with great hope I trust that God “reconciles brokenness, makes all things new, and is still at work in the world.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302d
September 14, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Gospel announces the nearness of God’s kingdom, bringing good news to all who are impoverished, sight to all who are blind, freedom to all who are oppressed, and proclaiming the Lord’s favor upon all creation.” *
The early Christian Church suffered persecution from Rome and its pagan culture, so it used symbols—a ship, anchor, lamb, vine, cluster of grapes, dove, the cross, to name a some of them—to secretly identify themselves and promote their faith.
Today we are not persecuted by the authorities (apparently we are no longer a threat) and, try as we might, it’s hard to be seen.
But we will keep trying because the world needs to know we stand for compassion, inclusion, reconciliation, justice, peace, tearing down walls, and lifting up the beautiful idea that we are all loved by God. The world needs to see these words come alive.
You can be part of this effort through our denomination’s Matthew 25 initiative. We signed on earlier this summer as a congregation to build congregational vitality, dismantle structural racism, and eradicate systemic poverty. It’s a huge task, but I say bring it on!
Let’s put our society on notice that Presbyterians are on this. Instead of keeping who we are and what we do a secret we propose to do just the opposite: we are asking you to consider buying a Matthew 25 T-Shirt for $25. It’s a pretty blue with our logo on the front and a version of Matthew 25:40 on the back: “What you do for these brothers and sisters of mine, you do for me.” (Look for purchase details in this eNews.)
All proceeds will help support the Interfaith Community Shelter at Pete’s Place and St. Elizabeth’s shelter, organizations we helped start here in Santa Fe.
When you wear your new T-shirt I hope people will take notice. Presbyterians are in the game. We’re not going away. We support our sisters and brothers. The nearness of God’s kingdom has come.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
September 11, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church’s life and mission are a joyful participation in Christ’s ongoing life and work.” *
Our church building has been closed for six months now but our ministry is alive and well and serving our community.
One reason is member Bonnie Tsosie. She is a painter in oils and an artist of New Mexico landscapes. Bonnie calls me one day shortly after we shut down to tell me she has recently been painting non-stop, spurred by an intense desire to help those who are struggling in these pandemic times. Can we sell these paintings? All the money can go to help people. Any ideas?
So we did and came up with a plan, thanks to Judi Haines. Many of you bought Bonnie’s paintings (there are still several left) and we raised $3,450!
After much consideration, we decided to send all the money to the Synod of the Southwest to support Native Americans on the Navajo Nation and many other Native American Communities in New Mexico and Arizona.
Specifically, this gift joins a larger pool of money from the Synod and Presbyterian Disaster Assistance to support pastors and commissioned pastors as they serve native communities, provide needed basic infrastructure of these churches and chapels as centers of community life, and purchase food and supplies for distribution to Native American communities throughout the Synod.
So our ministry continues, not in a building, but in Native American communities, helping our sisters and brothers in great need, all because one of our members shared her talent and generosity. Thank you, Bonnie, and those who bought her paintings.
Now, what’s next as we joyfully participate in Christ’s ongoing life and work?
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0201
September 9, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who as members of his Church “are forgiven by Christ and called again and yet again to strive for the purity, righteousness, and truth revealed to us in Jesus Christ and promised to all people in God’s new creation. ”
Peter asks Jesus in Matthew 18 how many times we should forgive others. While once or twice, at most three times, seemed legitimate, Peter’s suggestion of seven times was way beyond the usual answer.
What’s your number? What would it be for your enemies? The other political party? Racists and white supremacists? Police officers who have killed black men and women? Protesters and rioters, and those who have brought violence to our cities?
To be clear, Peter confined his question to a member of the church but our society is lost when it comes to forgiveness. It needs this conversation. So, how many, if at all?
Jesus’s answer is as unexpected as much as it is startling. Forget such small change. Jesus says we must forgive seventy-seven times. Other translations of this passage read “seventy times seven,”or 490 times. Are you serious?
We have to believe Jesus is serious, very much so.
Biblical scholar Stanley Saunders gives some light to Jesus’s answer. “Jesus’ number is not drawn from the air. It mirrors the boast of Cain’s descendant, Lamech, in Genesis 4:23-24, who brags that the mortal vengeance he has extracted against a young man who hurt him far exceeds God’s promise of seven-fold punishment against anyone who might kill Cain. Jesus is calling his community of disciples to participate in undoing the curse of Cain and Lamech that has kept their offspring trapped in spasms of envy, hatred, violence, and retribution across the generations to this day.”
Envy, hatred, violence, and retribution. Pretty much sums up what we witness in our world today.
But what if we listened to Jesus, undo Lambech’s assertion, and move toward wholeness through forgiveness and not retribution?
I may be getting carried away again. But what if we did?
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302b
September 7, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose ordained officers in the Presbyterian Church answer the question: “Do you accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be, by the Holy Spirit, the unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ in the Church universal, and God’s Word to you?” *
Do you? Do you know some of the stories? Do you think other people know it better than you? Do you ever read the Bible?
According to a recent survey, about half of Americans (53 percent) have read relatively little of the Bible. One in 10 has read none of it, while 13 percent have read a few sentences. Thirty percent say they have read several passages or stories. While Americans are fond of the Bible, they don’t actually read it.
I am not surprised by these numbers nor am I admonishing anyone who doesn’t read the Bible. In my experience most people I meet in church don’t know Scripture as much as they wish they did, or think they should. We live in a diverse society with many faith traditions. We live in a time when religion has struggled. We live in a time of competing voices and philosophies trying to make sense of our society.
But if we belong to a church, or seek to follow the way of Christ then Scripture is essential. The less we know, the more we wander away from it. The more we know, the more resources are available to us as we navigate these strange and challenging times.
So, for only a few minutes a day (I think I sound too much like one of those commercials on TV!) you, too, can begin to experience its major themes, captivating personalities, historical movements, and struggles against Empire; and, in the process, read about people like you and me trying to respond to the presence of God in their lives.
Simply click here and you will be transported to Gateway to God’s Word, an overview written by my father. Day by day for twenty-six weeks we will be part of an exciting journey to help us discover what we need to know, to know the Bible.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order W-4.0404b
September 4, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose Church “proclaims and hears the Word of God, responding to the promise of God’s new creation in Christ, and inviting all people to participate in that new creation.” *
In our swirling, fractured, Covid, Jacob Blake shooting, Professional sports-boycotting world, it would be good to know the Bible.
It is even more important since, with a few good exceptions, those who speak for Christianity in the media sound very different than the faith I have known and seek to follow.
Starting next week I will offer you, through a link in our eNews, a manuscript written by my father called Gateway to God’s Word. Dad, who died in July at the age of 93, was a pastor, scholar, and teacher who served Presbyterian churches across the country from 1951-1991, then filled his 29 years of retirement traveling, teaching, and writing. Gateway to God’s Word was written in 1984 and was made into a video series but was never published.
It’s too valuable to leave in manuscript form, and who watches videos anymore? So I will be presenting it in readable segments (much like Sherlock Holmes stories in the old Strand magazine) day by day, week by week, all the way to Lent. I have updated it where appropriate but the scholarship is Dad’s.
It will take us 26 weeks to go through it but only a few minutes each day to read it. I promise you it won’t be drudgery. Instead you will be shown a gateway into understanding Scripture—what you should know to know the Bible—and will meet intriguing personalities, social movements, Biblical history, and various theologies along the way.
How we need to know Scripture today, a time when we are called to respond to the turmoil of our culture with “the promise of God’s new creation in Christ.”
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0303
September 2, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church is to be a community of witness, pointing beyond
itself through word and work to the good news of God’s transforming grace in Christ Jesus its Lord.”*
It was a vague feeling that something important was happening but, as a four year-old, I couldn’t grasp
its significance. Dad came home from church one night and talked in hushed tones with Mom. They
seemed subdued but determined, excited but cautious, and worried. Dad was always at night meetings
but this was different. It was only years later I was told what happened.
At the session meeting of the First Presbyterian Church of Wooster, Ohio, it was decided, after a long
and intense discussion, that the Associate Pastor would be sent to the South to be part of the Civil Rights
struggle. One woman elder swayed a close vote. “Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote that God in Christ is
present wherever people suffer. People are suffering in Mississippi. I think we should support him.”
This was huge. An all-white church in the north in 1963 officially siding with people of color. Christians
in a small town in Ohio willing to get involved in their struggle for equal rights, civil rights, human rights.
In truth, this is our struggle. The moment we think we are not part of the issues of our day, that’s it’s
somebody else’s problem, is the moment we are not following Christ. Jesus was intimately involved in
the issues of his day. He didn’t stand off in the distance. He didn’t stay safe behind fences. He wasn’t
content to separate spirituality from life’s realities and indignities and injustices.
I never heard the stories from the Associate Pastor when he came back. What did he see and
experience? Did it look similar to what we are experiencing this summer? Did the south look a lot like
Kenosha does today?
Something very important is happening. People are suffering across the nation. How will we support
them?
Grace and peace,
Harry
*Book of Order F-1.0301
August 28, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church participates in God’s mission for the transformation of creation and humanity by proclaiming to all people the good news of God’s love.” *
When I heard Doc Rivers, Head Coach of the Los Angeles Clippers, speak on Tuesday about the Kenosha shooting, my mind took me back to February of 1974 to a Saturday morning in the gym at Proviso East High School. That day I was captain of the Freshman basketball team at Evanston High School and we were playing this legendary basketball powerhouse in Maywood, an all-back near-west suburb of Chicago, whose teams had produced many NBA players.
One was Doc Rivers. He was two years younger than me but was already being talked about as a 7th grader. Known as Glenn back then, he came from a well-known sports family. His uncle was former NBA player Jim Brewer, a cousin was NBA guard Bryon Irvin and another was baseball outfielder Ken Singleton. Yet another cousin was the star of the team we were playing that day.
I had my best day. Every shot was going in. We were winning. Then in the second half a teammate stole the ball and threw it to me as I ran for a layup. I caught the pass while jumping and turning at the same time and came down on the side of my ankle, missing the layup as I fell to the floor. Fans were screaming at me for trying to fake a foul. I got up and couldn’t. I was helped off the floor with people still screaming. I had torn ligaments in my ankle and it was the last competitive basketball game I ever played.
I don’t remember who won the game. I had already gone to the hospital. But later I realized I was the only winner that day because I was the only white player on the floor for either team. Because I am white I have enjoyed great privileges in my life. Doors opened for me. I never had to worry about getting pulled over by police with guns pointed at me. I never had to talk to my children about racial profiling and discrimination that would be directed at them.
And I have never had to say, as Doc Rivers did on Tuesday, “We’re the ones getting killed, we’re the ones getting shot, we’re the ones who are denied to live in certain communities. We’ve been hung, we’ve been shot. It’s amazing to me why we keep loving this country and this country does not love us back.”
Jesus commands us to love one another. Why have we tried so hard to ignore it?
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01
August 27, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who is “present with the Church in both Spirit and Word.” *
Yesterday I wrote to you about the nearness of God’s Reign, as we ended up on the high mountain of the Transfiguration with Jesus telling Peter, James and John, “Get up and do not be afraid.” Even God, in a cloud a few minutes earlier, said listen to Jesus.
I assume when both Jesus and God tell us something we should probably listen.
Then I participated in a Zoom call with my Presbytery colleagues for a check-in. “Where are you and your congregation exercising creativity?” was the lead question. I cheerily chimed in on how our congregation has been creative in all the ways we are, the list long and good and faithful.
The next pastor responded. I’m tired. Don’t feel creative. Not sure what to do. One admitted the pressure of validating her work and how “doing” can be overwhelming. One denomination, we were told, is offering free PTSD counseling for pastors. Another admitted to being exhausted. By this time I was wishing I never said anything.
Do we consider this time merely as an inconvenience, biding time until we can get back to normal? Or do we take this opportunity to embrace the stillness, the slowness, noticing exhaustion, experiencing days of un-creativity, while keeping an eye open to where the Spirit is leading us?
I know we are action people and revel in stories of the Action Jesus but when we read closely we see Jesus often retreating to lonely places, to mountains, to be alone to replenish his soul. He couldn’t do one without the other.
The Church knows Action. Maybe, for today at least (also tomorrow?), we can practice Stillness, and not feel guilty about it.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0202
August 26, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose Gospel “announces the nearness of God’s kingdom.” *
I’m straining to hear the announcement and yearning to see its nearness today.
What I hear is another black man was shot by police. What I hear is racism is not going away.
What I hear are the cries and pleas of mothers and fathers who have lost children.
What I see, I fear, is a nation of Kenoshas.
In Matthew 16 Jesus is having a frank conversation with his disciples. If we follow Jesus we will have to take up our cross, not the little crosses of irritation in our everyday lives, but the cross that leaves us trembling. A cross reserved for the revolutionaries and the vulnerable, three thousand of them lined up on a busy thoroughfare for all the world to see, the consequence of standing up to the Roman Empire. The disciples knew the scene.
I want to skip to the next chapter hoping that Jesus reconsiders. Quite frankly, I never remember signing up for this when I joined the church when I was 14.
Well, I looked at the next chapter. It is the story of the Transfiguration with Jesus on a high mountain with Peter, James, and John. God is there in a cloud. So are Moses and Elijah. Light shines on Jesus, God’s beloved, and God says we are to listen to him.
What did Jesus tell them? “Get up and do not be afraid.”
It’s worth a try. Besides, we might just see the nearness of God’s Kingdom when we do.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.01, Matthew 4:17
August 25, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose Church is summoned “to a deeper faith, a larger hope, and a more complete love as it bears witness to God’s grace.” *
While the Trinity of faith, hope, and love abide, my eyes keeps straying back to larger.
Go larger. When was the Church seen as larger, let alone a larger hope? Make a list if you can. It’s a good exercise. When did the church express a larger hope for you, for our community, for the world?
From what I have read about the early church, with stories that pop up all over the Gospels, the fledgling Church was that larger hope. It made people’s lives larger, transforming a life of drudgery, fear, want, and despair into one as large as the life of Jesus.
Larger gave them something to grow into. Jesus was beside himself, seen in Matthew 16, rebuking Peter for living small, “for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
It’s way past time for the church to get over living small. It takes us nowhere. It keeps us looking inward to our own problems, small hopes, and survival.
We are called to be larger than that. Be seen. Get out there. Live so people see the hope that goes with you wherever you are. In facing even the direst of circumstances, Christianity still has hope at the end of every sentence.
In a world that is starved for hope, that’s a pretty large calling.
Grace and peace,
Harry
* Book of Order F-1.0302c
August 21, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, as we are reminded again in these pandemic times “the Church’s life and mission are a joyful participation in Christ’s ongoing life and work.”*
I hope participating in the church’s life and mission is joyful for you. Even when we can’t be together as we once were in worship, fellowship, education, and service.
To be part of Christ’s ongoing life and work is always a challenge. Talk to any of his disciples and you will hear, as we read in the Gospels, that their lives did not become more comfortable but were filled with hardship, confrontations, doubts, and controversies.
The struggles continue to this day. An article recently sent to me shares the story of a young pastor on a zoom call with ten clergy. Four admitted suicidal thoughts. One shared a heartbreaking story of reopening too soon and a beloved congregant died from Covid-19. Another gets daily emails from members threatening to leave the church if they don’t reopen immediately. One was fired because she had to work from home to take care of her two young children since her husband had recently died. One pastor preached on race one week and an angry congregant kicked his office door off it’s hinges and tried to incite the pastor to a fist fight.
I am so very sad to read this. This has not been my experience.
I thank God for you and for this congregation. For your patience, understanding, flexibility, and faithfulness as we navigate this pandemic, our hyper-partisan culture with an upcoming election, and a society coming to terms with race and white privilege.
It’s not easy these days, no doubt. It’s not church the way we’ve known it. But it’s a life of faith as it’s always been, filled with valleys and mountaintops, struggles and triumphs, dying and living, tears and smiles, and the joy of participating in Christ’s ongoing life and work.
Grace and peace,
Harry
*Book of Order F-1.0201
August 24,2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life.”*
What would it mean if we entrusted the life of our church, and our own life, to God alone?
Jesus talks about this. Later in Matthew 16 Jesus tells his disciples “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Jesus says this right after rebuking Peter for keeping his mind on only human things. I suppose we can’t help it, but yes, we are prone as well to set our minds on human things, and not on God things.
But what are God things? What if we were to try, at least, to steer our lives in God’s direction? Here’s a start, and it’s only a start.
Music. Get lost in it. Sing. Play. Listen. Silence. Stop talking. Start hearing. Be still. We don’t need to cross off everything on our to-do lists. Art. Be creative just because. Nature. Yes! How else do we witness God’s masterpieces? Consider clouds and sunsets to start. Love. This many-splendored thing. This need for another. This gift from another. This applause that brings up the curtain. This joy that mystifies. This open-our-arms-wide to include God’s world and all that is in it. This smile on a child’s face looking up at you and realizing you can’t be whole or right or at peace until all God’s children have a reason to smile.
Ah, I lost myself there for a bit. The words just poured out. Maybe that’s what Jesus was talking about.
When we entrust God with our lives we can be who we are, fully alive, and not worry that somebody saw us dancing or hear us trying to reach the high notes.
Grace and peace,
Harry
*Book of Order F-1.0301
August 20, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who “calls the Church into being, giving it all that is necessary for its mission in the world, for its sanctification, and for its service to God.”*
I am greatly comforted by these words. We don’t lack anything. We have everything we need. I can take a deep breath and so can you. I say let’s get on with it, despite Covid, despite living virtually, despite the turmoil around us.
Look at what Jesus does in Matthew 16: Jesus gives Peter the keys of the kingdom. What else does one need? What’s more, Jesus tells him the church will be built on this rock, presumably Peter. Now Jesus has my attention and my imagination.
What if we’ve been handed the keys? What if our church is built upon such a rock?
On this rock we build a community that grieves over every child that is hurting and mistreated, and then stands up to change policies that allow this to happen. On this rock we demonstrate hospitality and compassion whose arms are big enough for all people. On this rock we shall not let down, or give up, because the world needs to hear from us the words of Jesus, and see in us his actions.
There is still room to add to the list. Lots of room. On this rock . . . . In this church . . . .
Correct me if I’m wrong, correct Christ if you want, but it appears we have everything we need to make a huge difference in the world.
Now, where did I put those keys?
Grace and peace,
Harry
*Book of Order F-1.0202
August 18, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose Gospel “announces the nearness of God’s kingdom, bringing good news to all who are impoverished, sight to all who are blind, freedom to all who are oppressed, and proclaiming the Lord’s favor upon all creation.”*
The propaganda of the Roman Empire in Jesus’ day promoted Pax Romana, the Peace of Rome, even though the people suffered under Rome’s brutality and casual cruelty. Caesar, regarded as divine, was the bringer of “Good News” even though over 90% of the population was impoverished.
Rome proclaimed one thing while the people experienced something totally different.
Times haven’t changed much. With elections approaching and political conventions upon us we are asked to decipher what is really true and good and what isn’t, all while deeply entrenched on opposite sides. A cascade of words which denigrate, insult, mislead, and misinform certainly don’t help, and only add to the confusion.
It is no wonder, then, that Jesus asks the question to his disciples in Matthew 16: “Who do people say that I am?” Are they getting it? Do they understand why I am here? Is my message breaking through all the noice and suffering? Do they see that I am countering the Empire through my healing and teachings, and in all that I do? Do they see in me true peace and good news?
Do you see it? Yes? No? Either way I suggest we go straight to Jesus’ second question: “Who do you say that I am?” This is what Jesus really wants to know.
Do you believe Jesus is caught up in, and drowned out by, all of the rhetoric and partisan tussles? Has he checked out? Or is he continuing to be the bringer of good news to a world that so desperately needs to hear and see it?
The question is designed to go deep, beyond the opinions of others who are more than glad to give us theirs.
Our answer, though, will say a lot about who we are, what we believe, and how we might get through these next few months.
Grace and peace,
Harry
*Book of Order F-1.01
August 14, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings, as we continue on the road to a “new openness in (our) own membership, becoming in fact as well as in faith a community of women and men of all ages, races, ethnicities, and worldly conditions, made one in Christ by the power of the Spirit, as a visible sign of the new humanity.”*
“Send her away.” These words were not uttered by racists or white supremacists but by Jesus’ disciples. I can’t get this out of my head as I read and reread the story of the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15 pleading with Jesus to heal her daughter. Wait, disciples said that? We are the good guys, right?
Our history hasn’t shown it. The Church has often been on the wrong side. Often. It has said “send her away” in words and deeds and stances through the centuries.
The class on Racism and White Privilege met today as it does every Friday, 12:30-1:30 on Zoom (please join us!) and is wrestling with the enormous issues of our day, and our past, while trying to carve out a future where, in the words above taken directly from the Foundations of Presbyterian Polity in our Book of Order, we become “a visible sign of the new humanity.”
How? The class members had some ideas. Vote. Support the Census efforts. Reach out into the community. Listen. Walk beside. Take a stand. Become politically active and not worry about the criticisms that will inevitably come. Take risks. Write letters to the editor.
Let’s add to the list and include the ministries in which we are already engaged.
The challenge is huge. It’s before us. Do you see the opening? We can do it. The old humanity has left us with too many “send her away” messages. I yearn for the new humanity that says instead, “Welcome! I am so glad you are here. Imagine the world we can build together!”
Grace and peace,
Harry
*Book of Order F-1.0404
August 13, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, and the Church which “strives everywhere to testify to Christ’s embrace of men, women, and children of all times, places, races, nations, ages, conditions, and stations in life.”*
The continued call for a reckoning with race in our country reminds me of the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15. While Jesus was in the region of Tyre and Sidon, Gentile country, this woman pleads for him to heal her daughter tormented by a demon. Jesus says his mission is only for the House of Israel. The disciples yell for her to go away. She kneels and again asks for help. Jesus again states the focus of his mission. It is a stand-off.
I am not sure I have ever said this before but I am disappointed in Jesus. The only excuse that makes sense is Jesus has fallen prey to old prejudices. Historically there was animosity between Jews and Canaanites but it is interesting to note that there were no Canaanites in the First Century when this was written. Do old prejudices, against people and situations not even around anymore, still cause us to act badly?
The woman wouldn’t let Jesus get away with it. She persisted in advocating for her daughter no matter the cost.
How often have we persisted? Sure, for our family and friends, perhaps, but what about for all children? For those on the margins of our society? To work to change power structures so that all people have the same rights and the same voice? To not give up when the answer is no?
The woman’s persistence pays off. Her daughter is instantly healed. Jesus commends her for her great faith. God breaks through barriers and enters new territory (something God does all the time). Jesus changes his thinking and shakes off the rusty shackles of prejudice.
And he no longer calls her a Canaanite woman, but simply addresses her as “woman,” a mother who pleads for her daughter, like millions of mothers across the world doing the same thing.
I hope we hear their cries. I hope we don’t say no. I hope we don’t give up.
Grace and peace,
Harry
*Book of Order (F-1.03c)
August 12, 2020
To the Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings to you, sisters and brothers, who are part of a Church which “seeks a new openness to God’s mission in the world, raises up a new humanity, and promises a new future for all creation.”
The phrase in quotes above are from the Book of Order of the Presbyterian Church (USA)—something I will do in the first paragraph of my letters to you—which calls us to be open to the winds of God’s Spirit in these challenging times and find a new way to be church.
In our Monday eNews we put a link to an open letter to all Presbyterians by Rick Ufford-Chase, long-time activist, lay leader, presently co-director of Stoney Point Conference Center, and former moderator of the General Assembly. I hope you have read it. If not, here is a paragraph to motivate you to read about an amazing opportunity we have before us:
“Let’s not go back to “business as usual” in our worship if and when the pandemic begins to loosen its hold on our congregations. Let’s talk with one another in deeper ways and push one another to greater faithfulness. Let’s agree that our prime directive is to be Good News in the face of climate disaster and racism and enforced poverty in our communities and around the world. Let’s embrace far more culturally diverse worship styles that sustain our faith communities and actually make our churches the center of our lives. Let’s abandon the Christian exceptionalism that is so ingrained in us that we ourselves are blind to it, and instead reach out to be family both with those of other religious traditions and with those whose spirituality long ago left behind the confines of narrowly constructed denominational identity.”
Yes. Yes. And one more time. Yes. Thank you, Rick.
Grace and peace,
Harry
August 11, 2020
GOOD TROUBLE
“…Ordinary people with extraordinary vision can redeem the soul of America by getting in what I call good trouble, necessary trouble.” – John Lewis