I met Jesus... again

It shouldn't come as a surprise, although it does... that I once again found myself sitting down for a conversation with Jesus.  

Now, before you think I've gone off my rocker... hear me out!

The Jesus with whom I was meeting looked little like any of the "blue-eyed, blonde-haired" images of Jesus we so often see... fair skin, white, European. This man, instead showed some darker features, beginning with his eyes and hair and then even his skin was a bit... Mediterranean. He looked to be about the same age as Jesus when he was at the height of his ministry. And something about his appearance gives the message that he's worked hard up until this point in his life... perhaps not carpentry, but some sort of physical labor for sure.

As we spoke, that hunch became truth. The Jesus before me is a seasonal worker, mostly landscaping, and with cooler temperatures upon us and the snow beginning to pile up, the employment he holds has dried up for the season and he's finding himself on hard times.

This young father came to me, in part, because we had met previously... when times had become difficult and the needs of his family were challenging to meet. He came to our church previously and again this time because something in our culture, for the churched and the unchurched, still says that the church is a place to seek refuge and resources. He came to us looking for help... and I'm glad he did.

I am glad to have had the opportunity to reconnect, to check in on how his family is doing. I am also glad that he felt comfortable enough to return. And I am pleased because as I said in the beginning, seeing this man was as if I was meeting Jesus... again. 

I say again because I have had many other times when someone has been seated across from me sharing their story, their desires, and their needs. And in many of those conversations, I thankfully have noticed how something within me opens up to the experience. Something draws me closer to the one with whom I'm speaking. Something fends off any doubt or cynicism I may feel as they unpack their story for me, and I am able to be fully present, fully trusting, fully in awe of what a holy experience it really is.

I say "holy" because to be invited into someone's story, to have them resting in a truly vulnerable state in hopes of making a connection is a moment that only God can orchestrate. 

And this time of year, with the Christmas holiday approaching, it can seem like more and more folks are coming forward to share their stories. 

Granted, sometimes the stories are recycled or fabricated. Sometimes the stories shift a bit in the details as they are told from one church to the next. Sometimes they are so far-fetched that my brain would hurt from just trying to piece the disconnected elements together. And yet... fabricated stories have a place too. Because, in many cases, they come as part of the survival skills the storyteller has gained in order to get by.

In this case, specifically, Jesus was telling the truth... as I would expect him to do.

He didn't fabricate a story of great illness or significant circumstances. 

He wasn't crafting a story that he thought I would want to hear in order to help him.

He looked me in the eye and told me the truth. And that truth is... his work has ended, and his family is hurting.

So, I did as any of us would do... I sought out a collection of resources that might help to ease a bit of his family's burden, fully knowing that these resources were not solutions to his circumstances and would also not last a family of five very long. Yet it was a start.

And, it was Jesus... embodied in what some would consider to be "one of the least of these." 

Jesus came to me that day as a reminder... that there are folks in our communities who are genuinely in need and they are having to put themselves in very vulnerable places in order to gain access to resources that have been out of their reach.

Jesus came to me that day to show me that sometimes it's the connection, not the resources shared, that makes the difference. Making someone feel welcome. Letting them know there is no judgment. Believing in them. Trusting them. All of these things and more are what create the bedrock of significant relationship that goes far beyond a transactional moment.

Jesus came to me that day, I believe, so that I could be reminded and so that I could remind others that we are all in this together. 

This young father with three children (ages 7, 6 and 1) has the same needs as I do, the same needs as you and your family. He and his family need food. They need to keep paying the rent. They need to provide the basic necessities for the family... and, I would suggest, find ways to enjoy this season and create good memories for their children.

It is my hope that as we stay in contact (only possible because Jesus gave me his cell phone number), this young father and I will be able to assess those needs and pair them with resources available in our community. 

It is also my hope that this encounter will remain with me as I navigate Advent and arrive at Christmas once again so that I may not forget what it was like for Mary and Joseph in those days leading up to the birth of their child. A young family in need of basic necessities... food and lodging... and under extraordinary circumstances, a place where their child would be born. 

Jesus' birth was surrounded by stories of community support, vulnerability and holy moments. 

I pray we can be part of reliving that experience in our community this day.

Blessed Advent to All! May Jesus find a way to enter into your life in these busy, busy days. May you look into his eyes and give thanks for the opportunity to be in his presence once again.

And may it change you... and change the world through you.

Blessings,

Pastor Timoth

If you'd like to hear more about this young family and the experiences I've had in getting to know them, please let me know. I'm always happy to talk with others about my experiences with Jesus.

I Pledge My Allegiance...

I’ve appreciated this image for some time.

Painted on the pages of a Christian bible, the stars and stripes almost blot out one of the vital moments in Jesus’ story. If you look close enough, you can still make it out...

“Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged.”

The image speaks to me of the unhealthy connection drawn by so many between the Christian faith and patriotism. And how some people’s patriotism takes precedence over, and at times blots out, the absolute truth given us in Christ’s Gospel...that when the Empire is corrupt, to speak against it will be at least unpopular, at most deadly.

Many of the modern-day institutions we’ve created represent the Empire against which Jesus spoke and organized.

The movement of Jesus-followers then and now is given clear directives as to what institutions/systems warrant respect and support...as well as which ones do not.

We are asked to consider:

Does that which we support embody unconditional love of neighbor?
Does it seek to do no harm?
Does the institution we celebrate provide and promote freedom for all?
   Freedom from oppression?
   Freedom from discrimination?
   Freedom from injustice?

If we answer “no” to even one of these questions we must reconsider our alliance, our allegiance and speak out for change.

And yes, it’s risky.
It’s unpopular.
It’s dangerous.

And, it’s necessary.

On this day, the day when those in our nation are invited to celebrate freedom... I recognize our right to express freely that which we believe and to support freely that to which we pledge allegiance.

And I exercise that right to say that as long as the US Empire continues to deny justice to our neighbors...
as long as it seeks to cause more harm than good...
as long as racism, xenophobia, sexism, Islamophobia, homophobia, classism exists...
as long as the loudest voices continue to spread fear and hatred instead of love and justice...

I will work for change.
I will speak out against the Empire.
I will engage in difficult (respectful) dialogues to ensure that the truth is not blotted out.

And I’m sure I’ll pay the price for it.

Yet I’d rather be mocked for doing what is right than standing silent and letting evil prevail.

I’m pretty clear as to where I pledge my allegiance. How about you?

I was a United Methodist

Around the time I was in Middle School, a group of my friends were participating in a local church's youth group and had invited me to join them. Now, I wasn't much for church at that time so the acceptance of their invitation was purely based on the opportunity to spend more time outside of my home.

Involvement in the youth group led to registering for something called "Confirmation Camp," a week-long experience that somehow brought me into membership with my local United Methodist Church. I say "somehow" because that week couldn't have been more unique. Yes, I'm sure there were plenty of songs that were sung and stories that were told that resonated with those who found God to be an anchor in their lives. However, for young Timoth, the week was less about a connection with God and more about just having fun.

It was at that camp that I learned how to have wet toilet paper fights. I learned how to wear a toga. And the highlight of the week was learning that when you spray Right Guard deodorant onto a chalkboard and light it on fire, it creates a tear-shaped flame. (Why my parents ever allowed me out of the house is a question I still ask myself... LOL).

Following my week at camp, my time in the United Methodist Church was fairly short-lived...not because of the Right Guard incident, however, that seems like a good excuse as any. No, my time there was short because I wasn't ready. I had known something about myself for a few years leading up to that time... something that appeared to be incompatible with the teachings of the church. I knew that I was gay and I wasn't sure that I could tell anyone... especially in the church.

So I left. I wandered a spiritual wilderness for nearly the next decade until I met a young couple...the pastor of a local United Methodist Church and his wife. They were charismatic, friendly and deeply faithful... and my being drawn to them led me back into the church as well as into an opportunity to serve as a counselor at a United Methodist Camp.

No togas or flames this time. However, I was still unsure as to my level of acceptance. So I asked for a meeting with the pastor.

Standing in his office, I asked Paul, the pastor; "What does the church say about homosexuality?" It was the first time I had said that word out loud... not to myself, not to any family members... I said it to a pastor of a church in which I had found myself unsure as to what would happen when I heard the answer.

Over the years, I have often remarked on how powerful that moment was for me in living into my true identity as a gay man... and as someone who gave church another try.

In response to my inquiry, Paul said to me; "Do you want to know what the church says... or what I say?"

In an instant I knew that I was loved and valued as the person God had created me to be... and that I found myself within an institution that wasn't quite there yet. I felt relief. I felt love. I felt promise.

Fast forward many years. I'm now an ordained Christian pastor in the United Church of Christ... a denomination that has been ordaining members of the queer community for several decades. I am reminded continually that I am a beloved child of God, created in God's image, and that I have dignity and respect within a denomination that has been ahead of the curve on affirming folks like me for quite some time.

I am home!

This past week, as many of you may have witnessed, our Christian siblings in the United Methodist Church have found themselves in the midst of a deeply challenging conversation. Within the UMC, the topics of Same Sex Marriage and Ordination of LGBTQ+ individuals have come before the global church for consideration and ultimately, decisions are being made...decisions that question and deny the basic human dignity of those created to be LGBTQ+.

Though I love being part of the UCC, I know that there are many who love being United Methodist. And although my heart breaks at the church's recent process and the harm it continues to inflict upon my queer, Christian siblings... I pledge to honor and respect the decisions of those in the UMC if they choose to remain in their once-beloved church. I'm not going to suggest they flee to the UCC or other denominations that have been doing the difficult work of full inclusion for some time. In part, because none of us are doing it to the extent to which Jesus would have envisioned.

What I will say is that if or when those who can no longer remain within the UMC find their way to the doors of the church I now call home... for a period of rest and renewal or for the duration... we will open the doors wide and offer them welcome.

We will be a place of refuge along the way.
We will provide shoulders on which they can cry.
We will listen.
We will learn from them what it is to be deeply hurt by an institution that they just as deeply love.
And we will be a balm for them as they seek to heal.

I don't know what the future will hold for the United Methodist Church. However, I do know that for me, the command to love my neighbors as myself has not changed. I pray that I may do so in ways that restore trust and wholeness for those who are now seeing the church as the enemy.

I will continue to pray for our Methodist siblings... and tell the stories of how I have been shaped in and through my time with them. And I would ask you to do the same.

And I will pray that we find ways to navigate this time together, bringing about love and justice, peace and compassion that leads us, together, to one place... where we will be blessed with a stunning glimpse of God's kingdom.

Church Budgets ≠ Anxiety

anx·i·e·ty

/aNGˈzīədē/

noun

1. a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.  

Many years ago, I was given a great gift… I was taught how to recognize my own  situational anxiety. And my life has not been the same since.

The anxiety I have been able to recognize in myself is, as I stated above, situational… meaning that it is in some ways different than that of an anxiety disorder, disproportionate levels of anxiety lived with on a daily basis. My anxiety was most often provoked… a fear surfacing or a tense situation in my life that would leave me feeling angered or distraught. Neither of which rendered me very functional.

And, after a great amount of self-work, once I was able to identify my own anxiety and that which caused it to come to the surface, I’ve been able to work at “nipping it in the bud,” as is often said. I’ve been able to learn my own triggers and feelings that previously almost always led to a session of anxiety felt throughout my body and overflowed into many areas of my life.

Actually, on one occasion, my own situational anxiety landed me in the emergency room at a local hospital with chest pains. Believe me, I don’t want that experience again.

So why am I telling you all of this? Well, in part, to set the stage for what I see as the heart of this piece I’m writing. And I also share this in hopes of naming something that many of us have experienced…and perhaps still experience on an all-too-often basis…as a way of saying that we are never truly alone in our experiences.

I share it also to let you know that for the type of anxiety which I have experienced, with work, I’ve found it can be controlled in a way. And as I stated already, the anxiety I am going to speak of is different than the clinically diagnosed variety which can lead to needing much more attention and possibly medical assistance than that which I have experienced.

Becoming better at recognizing that which raises my own levels of anxiety has also allowed me to be more aware of the experience in others. And that being said… I want to name an experience that I’ve witnessed more times than I can count of unnecessary anxiety growing within the church…nearly any church.

Now of course there are many things that can cause anxiety. Yet the one that seems to be the most prevalent in my observations is that directly linked to money. And in churches, I come about almost always when the community comes together to talk about its budget for the coming year.

For many of us, 

Church Budgets = Anxiety

And they don't have to!

Here at Newman UCC, we’ve had our share of anxiety-producing budget meetings in the past… as many churches do.

Significant deficits

Fewer pledges

Increased expenses

Unsure markets

You name it. If it has anything to do with the actual church budget, it has the ability to create anxiety in at least one, maybe more of the community members.

And knowing that we will be gathering in just a short amount of time for our Annual Budget Meeting, some in the church have begun recognizing their own church budget anxiety and doing a bit of “self care.” They are looking for any excuse at all to not be available to sit in on the meeting. LOL

When in reality what we need is for those people who recognize their own anxiety around this topic to show up and be part of the conversation that, I hope, will lessen that anxiety and replace it with a much healthier emotional experience.

You see, not one of us knows what the future holds. We don’t know exactly what God has in store for us, what new ministries may emerge, what old ministries may be retired. We don’t know how much it will snow or how much energy the solar panels will generate. 

What we do know is that God is calling us to be a place of ministry, with and for our neighbors… locally and globally. And we do that, in part, with resources named in our annual budget process.

So this year when we gather for our Budget Meeting, we will go in to that meeting with a budget… and we leave with a Mission Plan. The work we will do in that meeting will provide direction for that in which we will share in the coming year. Work and ministry. Worship and fellowship. Fundraising and advocacy. 

And in the midst of that process, we will give thanks for the incredible ways God’s Spirit has been at work in and through the very generous members of our faith community. 

So come, set aside your church budget anxiety and be part of celebrating God’s ministry in this place! 

Because:

Church Budgets ≠ Anxiety