An Open Letter (across the miles) to Gov. Jan Brewer

Dear Governor Jan Brewer,

I will have to admit right up front…I have only been to Arizona one time in my life.  However, the state has in several ways touched my life time and time again over these past few years.  

My trip to Arizona was for an interview with a church in Tucson seeking to call a new Pastor.  As I made the drive into the city from the airport, I saw the landscape of Arizona spill out around me…miles and miles of desert, dry and gray with the random green cacti dotting the landscape.  I immediately thought of the stories I have heard of our South and Central American sisters and brothers risking their lives to cross over into your state…escaping hardship I hope to never experience, in hopes of a new life…in America.  I thought of the rough terrain they must navigate and the unforgiving “dry heat” that complicates their mission even further.

So my first impression of Arizona was rough…dry and gray.  And I could only hope that the people I would encounter would be the warm, bright presence necessary to balance that of the surrounding landscape.

As I was given a tour of the city, I very quickly realized that the people were exactly what I had hoped for…generous, caring, friendly… completely contradictory to the desert that they occupy.

My perception of Arizona began to change very quickly.  I began to see the beauty that the desert presents.  I began to see the life that it enables.  And, in those few moments, I was able to see the promise for ministry with a new church and a new life for me and my partner or 10 years.

Fast forward a bit and the church decided that I was not the one God was calling to lead them.  So my search continued and included another congregation in Arizona.  More open to the prospect of living in this desert state, I engaged in various conversations with the congregation with a glimpse of what life could be for our family.

As it would happen, I instead took a call to minister with a congregation in Rhode Island…far from the desert sands.

But I often wonder what life would have been like had things been different…had I taken a call to pastor a congregation in a state that is inundated with conversations about immigration reform and border-crossings, injustice and death.  And now…seeing that Arizona is on the precipice of injustice once again with SB1062…I am conflicted in my heart as to my physical location.  Had I been called to Arizona, I could be presenting this letter to you in person…standing alongside my LGBT sisters and brothers, asking you to do the right thing and turn this bill and its inner-hatred away.  Had I been called to minister in Arizona, I would have been able to be a constant presence - calling for the justice rightly owed to one and all who identify in ways different than perhaps you do.

Instead, I write this letter from my office in Rhode Island, realizing that although I am not physically able to sit with you and have conversation, I am able to let you know where I stand.

I stand, first and foremost, as a child of a loving God, made manifest in the life and teachings of Jesus - calling us time and time again to speak the truth to power and to rally for change when we or others suffer injustice.

I stand as an ordained pastor in the United Church of Christ, a community that has taught me time and time again that when my voice is silent I remove myself from the conversation.  I am called to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ - teachings that center often on the poor and marginalized.  I minister with a group of people passionate about this calling and I stand before them as an example of living our faith out loud.

I stand as an openly gay man, once marginalized and yet now loved and affirmed in the church, in my community and day after day, further in the world…

Until something like SB1062 arises and threatens to change it all.  

With the stroke of your pen, you have the unfortunate ability to light a stronger fire under the injustice that is already widespread.  But also with that same pen, you have the ability to stand with me…with others who are just as passionate, just as deserving, just as concerned about being treated fairly.  You have the ability to shut it all down.  

Across the miles I call to you to make the right decision..veto this bill…and do it quickly, without blinking, because you know in your heart that is what needs to be done.

And know that across the miles I will be watching, as will others, eager to celebrate the work you will do in not turning back the clock to a time when the very being of an individual designated the services and resources available to them.  

And although I am physically so far away…know that I am open to having further conversation with you on this movement.  My voice will continue to be shared.

Blessings,

Rev. Timoth Sylvia

My Shower Routine

WARNING – This post may begin a bit weird.

So...the other day, as I was taking a shower (see, I said it would be weird), I had this amazing epiphany.  Well, let me go back a little further to make sense of it all.

During our recent vacation in Maine, Peter and I were staying with his sister and her family.  While taking a shower at her house, I was encouraged to try some of the conditioner that she had.  Now, I haven’t used conditioner on my hair in years but I thought what the heck?  So, I gave it a shot.  I conditioned my hair and my beard.  The results were awesome! 

Once I returned home, I went to the store and purchased the same shampoo and conditioner that I tested in Maine.  And when I went to use them for the first time, I realized that I needed to do something different.  You see, when I take a shower, I have a certain routine...I start with one part of my body and continue in the same order until I conclude by washing my hair.  But now, I am in need of washing my hair first so that I can apply the conditioner and leave it in for the duration of my shower. 

Not a big deal, right?

Wrong!

There I was, taking my shower, I washed my hair, put in the conditioner and started into my “routine” when all of the sudden I stopped.  I couldn’t remember where I was in that routine.  I was completely thrown off.  Had I washed my feet already?  How about my back?  My arms?  Did I wash my face before I washed my hair? 

I was utterly lost in my shower routine and the only solution was to start all over again.

Ok, if you’ve read this far then I’m confident that I haven’t given too much information. 

But haven’t we all experienced something like this before?  If not in our shower routines, in other aspects of our lives?  We go about doing the same thing, day in and day out.  And then all of the sudden, something enters in and causes us to pause.  Some proverbial wrench gets thrown in our works and stops us dead in our tracks. 

If it isn’t happening in our shower routine, how about in our faith journey?  Ever have someone share something with you, a bit of their own theology, that simply rocks your world?  And in that moment we find it very difficult to go forward.  It’s as if our theological feet are stuck and we don’t know what to do.

This happened to me not too long ago.  I was attending a lecture presented by one of my seminary professors, the AMAZING Dr. David Trobisch.  In that lecture, David shared new findings in regard to what we consider our New Testament today and the realities that what we may think we know about it could be very, very wrong.  He spoke of the insertion of the particular books, the suspected authors and the reality that the collection that we use today is not what was originally intended. 

I recall speaking with David in that lecture asking him what I was to do with the information that he taught me while in seminary because it seems I have a new set of knowledge to work with. 

And it is this new information that rocked my world...stopped me dead in my tracks...caused me to pause and consider what I had been about up until that very moment and try to figure out how it is that I am going to proceed.  David’s teaching presented the wrench in my own theological works.

Because of that...I have been digging further into those scriptures, trying to discover for myself how they are to be used in my own faith journey...and then, in my role as Pastor, I’m looking for ways to share that which I am learning (without rocking the worlds of others – although that can’t be all that bad, actually).

I think of those who may have encountered Jesus for the first time and heard some of the things he was saying. 

“Take all that we have and give it to the poor” 

“Blessed are those who mourn”
“This child is not dead, but asleep.”

Really? 

So how has your world been rocked lately?  If it hasn’t, what is keeping that from happening?  Are you not allowing yourself to be in those situations that may make you uncomfortable?  Are you not inviting the opportunities where your own faith, your own theology may be challenged?  Let me be the first to say... that must change.

Seek out those opportunities to be challenged.  Step out of your comfortable theology zone.  Live in such a way that you find yourself growing more and more because of those experiences. 

I can tell you it will be a wonderful thing...

Let me know when it happens.  I want to hear all about it.

Taking a Personal Interest...

What makes you walk through the doors?

I have recently been in conversation in regard to the desire many of us have to be part of a church.  What makes us desire such an experience?  I believe the answer is just as fascinating as the conversation itself.

On one hand, we could say any of the following are drawing us through the church doors:

• We want to raise our children in the faith that we claim. 
• We want to have an opportunity to worship and grow in our own faith journeys. 
• We seek spiritual guidance.
• We want to do good.
• We feel obligated to be there...

We all have our reasons...many of which aren’t represented by this list.  But I would propose that there is one answer that is more basic and that speaks to our collective experiences.

There is something that we are seeking...something that will give us the get-up-and-go on that Sunday morning (or Wednesday evening, or Saturday evening, or whenever worship is scheduled in the community we visit...), something that propels us from our homes and fuels us to walk through the doors.  That propellant is the desire to be part of a community.

It’s that simple.  We desire to be part of something larger than ourselves...and a faith community provides that opportunity.

We walk in the doors seeking acceptance...

It sounds a bit selfish, really.  But the reality (I believe) is that at our core there is a strong desire within each of us to be connected with others.  It doesn’t matter if we identify as introverts or extroverts.  It doesn’t matter if we typically monopolize a conversation or if we are happy to simply listen.  It doesn’t matter if we have a lot of friends or just a few.  We are drawn to be connected with others at the very core.

So what does that look like in the local faith community?  What do we (or would we, if we haven’t gone through the doors yet) experience when we take that step? 

Hopefully (and I know this is not always the case, unfortunately) we are welcomed, genuinely...welcomed for who we are regardless of how we dress, how our hair looks, if we have tattoos, piercings, unmanageable children, if we show up late, or if we are there an hour early because we forget to change our clocks at the time change.  Hopefully someone is there to greet us with a smile, ask our name and invite us to join in with the others.

And from there...?  The possibilities are endless.  Relationships can spring up.  Work can be accomplished.  We find ourselves with a growing personal interest in others and we see that others have the same interest in us. 

The worship service, the Bible study, the fellowship group, the potluck...they are all secondary to the connections that we desire as part of the community. 

But the first step is walking through the door. 

If we have already taken that step, then our work is on the side of acceptance and welcome.  It’s a two-way street.  We give and we get.  And from that, with authentic interest in one another...amazing things will happen.

So when was the last time you found yourself having increased personal interest in someone else?  Isn’t it about time for it to happen again?

It's Not Well...

I can't sing the words anymore...

It's not well with my soul...

Not if by saying it is well I am saying that my soul is well due to the brutal death that Jesus suffered. 

Jesus didn't pay for my sin with his body and blood. 

Yet the song goes on. It goes on. Voices strong singing the words written for a generation gone by. 

Do people not think of the words they are singing?

Do they believe those words to be true?

And maybe for them the words are true. Maybe God speaks to them through those words. 

But the reality for me... I'm not there. 

The good news...? I know it's ok. 

There you go...it's ok with my soul. It's ok...it's ok with my soul. 

The God I worship doesn't mind that I don't sing those words. The God I worship doesn't mind that I struggle. Actually, the God I worship encourages the struggle...embraces it...encourages it. 

It's ok. It's ok with my soul. 

God Loves Oklahoma

Here's an article I wrote for our church's newsletter last week following the devastating tornadoes in Oklahoma...

Why am I not shocked that the Westboro Baptist Church would tweet “God Hates Oklahoma” in the wake of Monday’s massive tornado?  Perhaps it is because I’m so attune to the vile hatred spewed by the representatives of WBC due to my current involvement in HOPE UCC’s production of The Laramie Project.  But there is no excuse for such ignorant behavior in the name of God. 

As I have been watching the news and reading about the people of Moore, Oklahoma affected by this recent tornado, I can’t help but feel compassion and sadness.  I continue to pray for those who are missing, those who have lost everything, those whose lives have changed forever in an instant.

I offer prayers of thanksgiving for the search and rescue crews, official and un-official.  I am thankful for those brave enough to rush in and do what they can for others, showing that selflessness and neighborly love continue to be powerful things.  I pray a prayer of thanksgiving for those who presented the warning, those who care for the wounded, and those that will bury the dead...

“God Hates Oklahoma” is not a response to tragedy such as this.  “God Hates Oklahoma” says, in some way, that God was responsible for the devastation, that God was in the tornado, navigating its course through the neighborhoods and schools. 

In 1 Kings 19, Elijah encounters God on the mountainside...but he didn’t encounter God in the earthquake, the fire or the mighty wind...God was present to Elijah in the silence that followed.  So for those who think that God somehow decided to destroy a community in Oklahoma... “the Lord was not in the wind.” (1 Kings 19:11)

The silence that followed...once the winds had died down...is the place that encompassed God.  Neighbor helping neighbor.  A nation tuned in from a distance.  Faith communities on bended knee.  That is where we continue to meet God in times such as this...not in the cause of the devastation but in the time of rebuilding that follows.

“What can I do?” you ask.  Plenty.  Begin with prayer...prayer for all of those who have seen and are seeing first-hand just how powerful these storms can be.  Pray for the rebuilding of a community...in time.  Pray for peace and comfort for the many who will find it difficult to believe that it exists.

And then act...do something to help those affected by the tornado.  Educate yourself on Climate Change and the increase in storm activity our planet is seeing.  Contribute to a relief organization that will assist the families in Oklahoma in rebuilding.  Prepare Church World Services Disaster Kits to help keep the inventory steady as supplies are shared with families in need.  Go...link up with a reputable service organization and go to Oklahoma to help with the clean up. 

Do something...so that the people of Oklahoma...and the people of the world see through your actions that indeed, GOD LOVES OKLAHOMA!

How Do You Describe God?

Recently I was asked "how do you describe God?" 

Well...

(blank space to represent a long period of time passing while I contemplated an answer...)

How do you describe something that you have never physically seen, heard, touched, smelled or tasted?  Do you rely primarily on the experiences of others?  Do you make something up?  

How do you reveal one of the greatest mysteries of humankind in simple words?  Is it even possible?

Do I describe God in the things that I see where I feel God is present...? The newly budding trees?  The loving eyes of our Chihuahua-Dachshund mix?  The gentle hum of a parent rocking their child to sleep? The feeling of your stomach being filled after a period of great hunger?

The words of Lillian Daniel enter into my mind as my list begins to seem as if it is something shared by someone who is "Spiritual but not Religious." Someone who speaks of seeing God in the sunsets...Daniel says; "any idiot can see God in the sunset."  Who doesn't?

And in reality...yes, sometimes I can see God in a sunset...and in all of those other things that I've listed.  But even now it seems that my list is far from complete.

So this morning, this question was rolling around in my head and here’s where it landed...

I would describe God as:

• the voice of reason that enters into our thoughts when we allow it enough time to speak
• the chill up our spine when a song that we sing (aloud or within) roots deep within our being
• the guide in our decision-making that just seems to ‘make sense’ – more than listening to our gut
• the tightening of our stomach when we are witness to injustice
• the sense of gratitude when we pay attention to our breath...or the breathing of others
• the brilliance seen in birth
• the joy seen in growth
• the sorrow seen in death

And ultimately (and this seems like a throw-away, but it’s not), I would describe God as MYSTERY.  But how do we explain that to others?

How do you explain what it’s like to give birth to a child

–when the one listening will never have that opportunity?

How do you paint a picture of what it is to be loved

–when the one viewing your painting knows only a life of pain and abuse?

How do you let someone know that there is a presence within us that when we are opened to it, will burst forth in light and wisdom and will cast away all doubt

– when the one whom we encounter is blind to that interpretation?

God is...an understanding...an experience...a mystery, open for one and all to take in yet presenting in so many different ways...sunsets included.  And it is up to us as individuals to put words to that understanding.  Only then can we speak the experience of God to others...hoping they too will have the mystery revealed to them.

Final Meals...

For many years, I was known to have said that for me, Maundy Thursday was one of the most powerful days in our Christian calendar.  I looked at this day...actually, this night as a time when true faith comes into question...time and time again, for me and quite possibly for many others. 

At least, that's what I think of when I consider what it must have been like to be one of those gathered for that final meal with Jesus.  Of course, not knowing the exact details of that night my mind takes a journey of inserting ideas and experiences that mirror my own life.

I think of the many "final meals" I have had with others in my life. 

the final meal I ate with my grandparents...all of whom have left this world
the final meal I shared in a time of fellowship, cookies and coffee with my home congregation in Iowa
the final meal I enjoyed in Maine, as my seminary career (finally) came to an end

I think of those with whom I feasted...friends, family, strangers, acquaintances...all having had touched my life in some way...and now?  Now we are apart...not knowing if our paths will cross again. 

It must have been similar for those whom Jesus kept near...the Disciples and friends that shared with him in ministry and now found themselves once again sharing in a meal. 

What thoughts go through the mind when we encounter one of those "last meals?" "last moments?"

As a Christian...a follower of Jesus and his teachings...one thought that goes through my mind is that even if a meal I share with someone is to be the last, I am comforted in knowing that we will connect again...if not here on earth than certainly in the experience that follows.  And as cliche as it may sound, I truly do understand that each encounter I have is someone shaping me and therefore those with whom I feast, those who touch my life, will continue within me.

But I cannot imagine those thoughts going through the minds of Jesus' friends.  For sure, they must have had concern for Jesus...traveling with him from town to town...witnessing him speaking the truth to power...ultimately pissing off those who saw their way as "THE way." 

So imagine for a moment, this friend and teacher - Jesus, reclined at table with you one last time.  What is to come?  How will you go on?  What will your life, your ministry look like if this charismatic, truth-teller is no longer in the lead? 

For the faithful Jesus-follower, these questions are moot...we continue to follow Jesus to this day, living a life where his teachings are just as fresh as the day he allegedly spoke them 2000 years ago. 

But consider what life would be like if the man in whom we have invested so much of ourselves is about to disappear...forever... How will we go on?

Several years ago I spent this night in the seminary chapel with a dear friend who not only drew beautiful music from the piano but also offered an ear to which I voiced my frustration.  If you had walked into the chapel that night you would have found me on the floor...on my back...tears in my eyes and anger in my heart... for in that moment I had a very clear understanding of what it meant to have someone so vital to my existence simply disappear.  In this case, it wasn't that Jesus would not longer be with me... it was God who was absent.  I had been thrust over a faith precipice, finding that I had nothing to hold on to that would keep me from plunging into the darkest deep.  I had lost faith in God's presence.  I was now on my own.

How was I to go on?

It is a question that comes and goes from time to time in this journey of faith I continue to try and navigate.  Perhaps (hopefully) in this I am not alone.

Yes, there's a great story to be told of what brought me up off that chapel floor and gave strength to my legs once again walking a path of faith with God walking alongside me.  But I will save that for another time.

Because tonight is a night of unanswered questions.  It is a night of loss, darkness, desertion and great suffering.  It will begin in celebration and end in pain.

So I leave it there...hanging off the precipice...not knowing what will jut out to offer us an alternate ending to our story.  I leave it there for a few hours...a few days... perhaps even a few months... A time to reconsider how it is that we are living...how it is that we are prepared for this life because of the teachings we have absorbed.

May this night be a night of great tension for you as I know it will be for me.  May it be a time of deep, faithful questioning that ultimately could land us in a relationship with this man Jesus that encourages us to risk it all as we too, speak the truth to power, follow the truth-teller and become change-agents in a world desperately in need of what we have to share.  May we find our way through the darkness and eventually experience the rest of the story...