Years ago, decoupage was the favorite pastime of many of us. Favorite sayings or cutouts were glued to small boxes or plaques and then painted over with a special glue solution. My college roommate took a printed copy of one of my favorite sayings and made a small plaque for me, which I’ve kept to this day. That favorite saying was this: “You never understand another person until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes.” I remember reading To Kill a Mockingbird in Junior High School, and tucking these words into my heart: “You never really know someone until you understand things from their point of view, until you climb into their skin and walk around in it.” These thoughts have served me well in teaching, in ministry and in life.
In last month’s issue of The Presbyterian Outlook, I came across an article: “How to Love People,” by Charlene Jin Lee, a practical theologian and activist based in Los Angeles. In the thick of an unrelenting pandemic and in the bewildering aftermath of a contentious national election, a community organizer and Lee were charged with a project: “Create a community of belonging: among leaders in our multi-ethnic, multi-lingual, multi-theological, multi-political presbytery.”
“You have to be with someone long enough.
You have to see someone closely enough
You have to listen – not speak – enough.
Oddly then, you will begin to see you. You in them.”
Lee goes on to say: “Buoyed by an unburdened thought that we are walking the same land beneath one expanse, your clenched grip on things that you were so afraid to lose loosens, and you bravely fall back and lean forward into the galaxy of grace … a galaxy not so beyond comprehension that you are made indifferent by its vastness, but a kind of a slow, communal highway where you needn’t worry about losing things or fear getting lost because there are others beside you.”
As the group continued to meet and work toward becoming the “community of belonging” they were charged to create, they made three commitments – tell the truth, trust ambiguity and keep confidentiality. An honest practice of these commitments proved to be enough for this diverse group of people to find their way toward one another. Their greatest discovery as they worked this process: “Belonging takes away our need to be right.”
“You have to be with someone long enough.
You have to see someone closely enough.
You have to listen enough.
Beloved, let us love.
We are all here.
We shall be glad indeed.”
May each of us take this lesson on “how to love people” to heart, and create a sense of belonging with our sisters and brothers – a sense of belonging that will take away our individual need to right, freeing us to be with and for each other.
Elizabeth
For months now, I’ve seen the same piece in Presbyterians Today.
The piece is two columns in yellow letters black background.
I CAN’T
JOG - Ahmaud Arbery (Georgia)
BIKE - Bryon Williams (Nevada)
PLAY - Tamir Rice (Ohio)
WALK - Elijah McClain (Colorado)
SLEEP - Breonna Taylor (Kentucky)
BREATHE - Eric Garner (New York) , George Floyd (Minnesota)
DRIVE - Philando Castile (Minnesota)
KNOCK - Renisha McBride (Michigan)
Beneath the columns is this paragraph:
“Just being Black in America can cost you your life – even when you’re doing
very ordinary things that most people take for granted.
‘Enough!’ we say. It’s time for us all to wake up to the reality of racism
and call it what it is: a sin and an outrage.
It’s time also to ask, ‘What can we do to help fix this once and for all?’”
(Jan-Feb 2021, Presbyterians Today)
One morning last week in the “Inspiring America” portion of NBC news, I
saw a little girl holding a sign with these words: “We can’t build a different
world with indifferent people.” So very true.
Let us pray asking God to move us from being “indifferent” people to being
“different” people, so that together we might build a different world.
Elizabeth
This morning I shared the story of a Children’s Message I gave on Transfiguration Sunday in my first church - now 30 years ago. I had every light I could find: candles, flashlights, lanterns, spotlights, glow sticks, etc. Then we talked about the Transfiguration story and Jesus being transfigured. At this point I produced a sparkler, lit it and point was made, and the children loved it! Today I quickly moved past that memory to share that through the years, I’ve learned that we see Jesus most clearly in each other, and the love we show for one another. “Love one another as I have loved you,” Jesus told us. (John 13:34) That’s the challenge that’s ever before us.
After sharing these thoughts we sang a song. We brought our hands together and with our fingers made the shape of a heart and sang this song: “Lord, lay some friend upon my heart and love that friend through me. And may I always do my best to love that friend for thee.” No sparklers in hand this Transfiguration Sunday, only these words from a chorus I learned years ago in my heart, and I pray, visible in my life: “I love you with the love of the Lord, I love you with the love of the Lord. I see in you, the glory of my King, and I love you with the love of the Lord.”
It’s our tradition at Jackson Springs Presbyterian to have a symbol to carry with us through Lent each year. We pick up that symbol after we’ve received the mark of ashes on our foreheads. In thinking about a symbol for this year, I’ve decided to put all the leftovers from years past in the basket and let folks choose what they want. While filling the basket a stone with the word “Friend” caught my eye. That’s the one I hope to take from the basket. I want to be a friend to others on life’s journey. In John 15:15, Jesus says, “…I have called you friends…” That’s the thought I want to have in my heart as I make this year’s Lenten journey.
May this beautiful prayer by Rebecca Gresgam-Kesner, mark the beginning of our journey:
“Prayer for Ash Wednesday”
Holy One, as we come before you on this day with our traditional repentance, we remember those sacred words, ash to ash and dust to dust. Yet, this year is different. We have lived in the wilderness-like atmosphere of Lent for nearly a year. Our world is broken, our hearts are hurting and we need healing and hope. In those broken places, O God, let your healing love seep in. In places where we hurt, even amid this pandemic wilderness, allow healing grace to slowly enter our hearts and our lives. In this morose season, may we live into the healing that is so desperately needed. We trust in your holy hope as we remember our mortality. As we venture deeper into the wilderness, help us know that your transforming presence will guide us through to the joy of the resurrection with new found wholeness. Amen.
May God bless this Lenten journey we are making together in spirit, while unable to gather together. Traveling mercies!
Elizabeth