September 22, 2020

Trust in Disillusionment

 


Hey, wasn’t it just last Sunday when we had a happily ever after ending for the people of Israel?  Moses had got them through the Sea of Reeds, escaping the dreaded army of Pharaoh, even though the people had complained about Moses bringing them to the brink of the water.  God stepped in and rescued the complainers, helped them cross the sea, and Moses told them that they would never see the lands of Egypt, the place of great sorrow and slavery, ever again.  So what’s with all the belly-aching?  Wouldn’t they know that they were God’s people, that if the army of Pharaoh could be defeated, surely the growling of empty stomachs would be a minor thing for God to deal with? 

But no, they were whining and complaining like nothing had happened before, like they still weren’t sure of God, like they didn’t trust God to help them in a tight place where food was scarce.  They may have been in what mental health experts call the ‘Disillusionment’ phase of disaster reactions. 

People who study disasters, such as traumatologists, yes, that’s a real word, talk about different phases people go through.  When the lockdown first happened, many people put in heroic efforts to help out.  Doctors and nurses rolled up their sleeves; some came out of retirement, volunteers sewed masks and so on.  Then there’s the honeymoon, and the stage of disillusionment before we get to the reconstruction.  It’s complicated by people’s resilience before the event.  There are folks who have been so traumatized by events in their lives that they were already in disillusionment.  They rage about everything from masks to vaccines to government conspiracy theories.  They rant in fabric stores, they grumble in grocery stores, they attack online, spreading rumors and false news.  They quote manifestos that are scarily similar to propaganda first spread by National Socialists in the 1930’s, and are determined to ignore any facts they don’t like.  Scary people, hurting people, distrusting people who have been hurt before by people they trusted.

People like the ones Moses was leading in the desert.  They too had been living in disillusionment for generations, experiencing exploitation and poverty.  They had lost their community knowledge of who they were and how they had been free people, living as farmers and herders.  The cleverness of Abraham, the faith of Jacob, the honesty of Joseph had been forgotten.  Surrounded by massive statues of Osiris, Isis and Anubis among others, they had no patterns of worship, of holy days, of rituals that reminded them of who they had been.  They had lost their heritage, their culture, their pride and their faith.

Not unlike many in our society today.  Folks working two or more jobs to pay the rent in a slum neighborhood.  Others living in mansions.  The gap between the haves and the have nots growing wider every year.  The level of addictions and people caught in violence.  There has been a surge in overdose deaths in Alberta and BC since March.  In July, The First Nations Health Authority in BC reported a 93% increase in overdose deaths amongst first nations, and 728 British Columbians died from drug overdoses. COVID-19 had killed 190 people in the same time period.  Addicts are finding it harder to access help because of Covid and we see this here in Athabasca.  Offices are closed and finding ways to reach to the homeless has been tricky.  We had someone in church on Sunday who was homeless and hungry.  He also was delusional and incoherent, and an innocent soul who was harmless but he has little ability to survive an Athabascan winter on the streets.  We gave him a little snack and a coffee then called for help for him.

We contacted Primary Care Network who have a plan to get him the care he needs.  A good ending that was facilitated by this congregation being a beacon of hope in his time of wilderness wandering.

The people wandering with Moses had to learn to trust God and to trust their leaders.  Their story testified to God who provided not an excessive amount, an extravagant supply, but enough for each day.  Enough to sustain the community while they healed from their abuse in Egypt.  The day’s wages for the workers in the vineyard no matter when they came to work, enough to feed their families. The amount that Jesus taught his disciples to pray for, their daily bread. 

We in the west also don’t trust leadership, especially anything coming out of Toronto.  Which can be wise.  But I have been very inspired by our leaders who are boldly asking the government for manna for all Canadians.  Just as the depression in the 1930’s led to the Conservative Government establishing a national employment insurance program, and returning vets with a host of medical issues helped motivate people to push for Universal Health Care, now our leaders are campaigning for a universal basic income which has all kinds of surprising outcomes, families able to afford healthy foods which leads to less stressful and healthier lives which can reduce hospital stays, addiction and crime rates as people feel more hopeful.  Like the daily wages in Jesus’ parable, and the gift of manna in the wilderness, we can work with our leaders to encourage politicians to provide daily bread.  Our Moderator the Right Reverend Richard Bott wrote,

“Since 1972, The United Church of Canada has advocated for Guaranteed Annual Income as a method of insuring economic security for all in Canada that is more equitable and less expensive and complicated … than the numerous government support programs presently available. Since then, national and international studies and programs have shown that Universal Basic Income is both affordable and has beneficial effects in the areas of health, justice, education, and social welfare...”

You and I have an opportunity to make a difference that will be just as profound as our grandparents and great grandparents who called for universal health care and employment insurance.  We can make a lasting change that will bring Jesus’ call for economic fair play closer to reality, on earth as it is in heaven.  This is our chance to revolutionize Canada in a profound way!  Let us join together to bring manna to all who are in the wilderness of disillusionment.

September 18, 2020

Looking Back, Moving Forward

“Though you see Egypt today, You will never see it again!”  Moses claimed to the heart-stricken Israelites who looked at him like he had rocks in his head.  They looked at the Sea of reeds in front of them, back to the army that was rapidly approaching, with the latest technology for efficient warfare, the chariots, then back at the children, the grandmothers, the pregnant moms, the sullen teenagers, and back again to Moses.  And all that water.

No wonder they complained to Moses.  They had no experience with wilderness living, and plenty of experience with city dwelling.  They had no experience with freedom, and precious little trust in either Moses or God.  Their previous life had been harsh and demanding, and they had become used to following orders.  It was tough and unfair, but it had its familiar pattern.  Following Moses out into the wilderness on a whim lost its appeal when the sparkle of metal swords glinting in the sun and the great noise of a mighty army was growing closer by the minute.

They knew what to expect back home.  Pharaoh’s soldiers might be bossy and bullying, but they also fed everyone, and there was a roof over their heads every night.  Not to mention beautiful sculptures and art, and full employment for all the able-bodied men on the Pharaoh’s pyramid.  No unions or holidays, but hey, it was stable and predictable.  What would happen next was also predictable, certain genocide.  By any logical standard, they were doomed and they knew it.

What wasn’t predictable was God.  What wasn’t predictable was Moses ordering them into the swamp.  What wasn’t predictable was a dry passage to safety.  What wasn’t predictable was a complete rout of the army.

It would be easy to dismiss this as myth or fairy tale without any sound archeological evidence to back it up, but the story is a profound reminder to trust that even when our senses tell us otherwise, even when we are feeling overwhelmed, even when the odds are against us, we are not to discount that God may be in action in ways we just can’t picture or understand. 

Stories we don’t’ understand like the one I read in Scientific American.  Michael Sherman wrote the story of his wedding day. His bride Jennifer was missing her grandfather who had been like a dad to her because he died when she was 16.  She moved to the United States and shipped boxes of possessions to her new home.  Some arrived broken, like her grandfather’s 1978 transistor radio, which refused to turn on.  Sherman did everything he could to fix that radio, but it refused to work.  The day of the wedding, after they said their vows, they heard music coming from his bedroom.  The grandfather’s radio turned on and played a romantic song.  It played all the rest of the day and stopped working that night.  It hasn’t worked since.  What makes this story odd is not what happened, I’ve heard similar stories in my job, it’s who tells the story.  Michael Sherman is the publisher of Skeptic Magazine, which is devoted to debunking and disproving such stories!

But the real point of today’s scripture is not whether or not the parting of the Red Sea or Reed Sea really happened, but that in the midst of the crisis the Israeli people faced, they did what humans still do today.  They mythologized the past.

They told themselves the lie that the ‘good old days’ were really good, and certainly better than their current moment.  They forgot the depression, the hopelessness, the lack of freedom, the oppression, the brutality and the slavery they had lived in. Their previous life was glamorized and exaggerated.

Maybe Moses hadn’t communicated the possibilities clearly enough.  Maybe he didn’t have a clear enough vision to excite the people.  Maybe he glossed over the challenges that would face them.  Maybe he hadn’t realized that Pharaoh would change his mind again. 

Nevertheless, God didn’t look back.  God knew that these people deserved a better future.  God knew that a contingency plan existed.  And like Jesus reminded his followers centuries later, God was willing again and again, 7 times 70 to forgive the people their lack of faith, and their lack of hope in God.

We are in a similar bind.  The past is now seen as the ‘normal’ we can’t wait to get back to.  Normal times when we have a vaccine, when the pandemic is over.  And yet those ‘good old days’ were ones where our economic system was based on the exploitation of immigrant women working multiple low-paid jobs, where people got shot by police for being non-white, where global warming was still not being seriously considered, where our waters and air were being polluted, and where seniors were being warehoused in conditions that were sometimes as bad as slave quarters in Egypt.  Maybe looking back to those ‘good old days’ are not what we should be doing, but looking to the unpredictable future God is bringing us into.  God may have to terrify us into moving into the swampy lands to get to a world we can’t imagine, where there is housing for all, a guaranteed income, lives that are not lived in a blur of non-stop activity, where global warming is addressed and sustainable energy is a reality.  A future where Hong Kong, Beijing and New Delhi citizens can see the stars every night.  A future where families do not have to live in fear of domestic violence. A future where water is cherished as a gift that everyone protects, and a future where we all work together to ensure that no one feels oppressed.  Maybe it’s time to ask God to help us in a situation that is just as scary as an army of chariots.  To stand back and catch the vision God has for us, so we can move forward in hope to a new and better world.  Our unpredictable God is with us in this time of change and transition!  Halleluiah!

September 10, 2020

Taking Temperatures


 When I was little and feeling sick, my mom would get out a glass rod, wash it, flick it and stick that glass in my mouth under my tongue and remind me not to bite it.  Of course I did!  Not too much mind you, but I do remember a time someone, my younger brother perhaps, bit down on the glass enough to break it!  That caused a flurry of excitement and a worry about mercury poisoning, but the child was okay.  When I was a mom, I was quite relieved to find out that there were now digital thermometers.  What a relief!  It’s actually one thing that in retrospect I am surprised we even thought was appropriate for kids.  Glass, mercury and wiggly little bodies just do not mix!  And last week I went in to get some routine lab work done and there was a thermometer that quickly took my temperature with one quick pass across the forehead.  How the world has changed since Galileo and others of his day first used water to measure temperature, and how much better an electronic measuring device is from Fahrenheit’s glass rod with mercury invention three hundred years ago.

One thing that hasn’t changed is the reason the thermometer was invented in the first place.  Measuring temperature is a useful skill to have, especially measuring children’s fevers to find out how sick they are.  Or now doing a temperature check for everyone who comes into the hospital or health unit, the doctor’s office and more as a way of containing pandemics.

But how do we measure the health of a congregation?  There are no thermometers for that.  Matthew and Moses both were concerned with the health of their faith communities.  Moses recognized that the Israelites were groaning with the oppressive conditions they were under, Matthew recognized that conflict was causing anxiety and tension in his congregation.  Both went back to their sources – Moses went back to wrestle with what kind of God was in relationship with him.  Matthew looked to ways Jesus had encouraged his disciples to work out their many conflicts.

Someone quipped that there was an alternative version of our Matthew passage that reads:

“If a member of the church sins against you, talk about them behind their back, hold a grudge against them forever, post it on social media, and make sure everyone knows what a complete jerk they are, then go talk about them again, then report them to Human Resources, and if anyone disagrees with you, they are evil”, which is the version from the Gospel of Holy Resentments, not Matthew!   It is very human and not at all biblical; while we know that the actual scripture is not a perfect recipe for conflict resolution, it was a huge step in the right direction in that day. 

Just as thermometers have evolved over the centuries to be more reliable, so too the church has evolved ways of thinking about congregational health, especially over the last few months.  Taking our temperature doesn’t just include physical, how many people come and their demographics, but now includes social, emotional, spiritual, financial and psychological health.  We have thermometers like questionnaires, focus groups, coffee time and church consultants, visioning workshops, annual reports, oversight visits, regional staff and other congregations.  We also have a wealth of knowledge and experience through our own connections – how many of us have friends who are nurses or teachers or social workers or mechanics or accountants?  We all are connected with someone who has some area of expertise that can help us.

One such person is Rev. Diane Strickland, a United Church minister from Alberta who is a Certified Compassion Fatigue Specialist and a Community and Workplace Traumatologist.  She worked with the United Churches of High River and Fort MacMurray after their disasters.  She talks about taking our personal temperatures first, checking how we are doing before we look to our community.  We all respond differently.  She recommends a thermometer called SUDS, subjective units of distress, that helps us recognize that it helps us be more aware of our stress.  Others too are feeling more stress than normal.

The good news is that as people of faith, we have many tools to calm our distress.  Our scriptures remind us of them.

Moses challenged God directly, “why have you added to the oppression of your people?”  We don’t tend to think about getting angry at God as a way of calming our distress, but if you read through the psalms, that was a part of the spiritual practices that the ancient people recorded.  When people felt oppressed, they let God know.  They said that things were unfair, that they felt overwhelmed, that they needed God’s help.  God said, “remember who I am, the God of your ancestors, the God who helped your family get through the Spanish Flu, the First World War, the Great Depression, the Second World War, the Polio epidemic and more.  I am, and I am your God, and I am here with you, ready to act.”  Wow!

Matthew reminds us of the power of community, where two or more are gathered with God front and center, we can trust that God is with us.  We gather to solve our problems and challenges, using the scriptures to test our intentions. 

Rev. Diane reminds us that we as Christians have got this!  When we gather, when we use spiritual practices, when we calm our minds remembering we are beloved of God, we will see God working in us and through us through the Spirit.  Now more than ever, we are needed.  Our provincial parks need our loving action, indigenous neighbors and people of color need our love, our teachers and health care professionals need our love, communities targeted for bullying like Edmonton’s Bible Pentecostal church because they caught Covid, our LGTBQ2S+ community, and yes even and maybe especially our police and politicians need our love.  Our loving action with God’s loving action make a real difference in this world, and we are all called to be a Moses and a Matthew, connecting with God then acting in the world.  Together we have got this! Thanks be to God!

September 03, 2020

What's in Your Basket?

 


Imagine...

A mom, holding her baby tight, rocking it gently:

“Hush little Baby, don’t you cry,
It’s not safe when there’s soldiers nearby”

She stops and lays him down in a basket in front of her.

“I wish I could sing to you but the tears in my throat won’t let me, you poor dear.  I wish I could find another way but my neighbor reported you to the soldiers and they may be coming at any minute.  I wish I knew a safe place I could put you.  I wish I knew what your future holds in store for you.  I wish I could be there for you and I wish I could make you understand that I don’t know what else to do. I’m running out of options and running out of time. I don’t know if this plan will work, I don’t know if the river currents will carry you to the palace where all the women live, I don’t know if the crocodiles will find you before an Egyptian might, I don’t know if anyone will find you or even if they will care if they do find you.  So much uncertainty.  So much danger.  I wish I could do more.”

We don’t know her name, this nameless Levite mother.  We know the names of the brave midwives who lied their way out of a confrontation with the angry pharaoh, but this woman, making a desperate sacrifice of all she holds dear, is a heart-wrenching story.  She is not that different than modern moms in North America who have to tell their children how to act around the police in case they get stopped because of their skin tone.  She’s not that different from the mom in Athabasca deciding whether to send her children to school, the first nations mom wondering what kind of life her baby will have, the mom who has lost her husband in the explosion in Beirut.  Refugee moms having to sacrifice all that is near and dear to them in hopes that the future will somehow be better than the present.  Abused moms faced with the harsh reality that their current situation is desperate and ugly.  Moms who will be nameless in the history books for the choices they make.

You and I don’t have a baby that we are going to put into a basket and float down the Nile river.  You and I don’t face clear life-threatening choices.  You and I don’t live in constant danger of our worlds turning upside down because of violence that justifies itself with racist assumptions.

But we do have a call to make sacrifices.  We have been asked and begged to give up, to sacrifice, our vacations to other provinces and countries, to sacrifice our freedom to shop whenever and wherever we want.  We have been asked to sacrifice our habits around hygiene and masks, visiting our families, seeing new babies, celebrating weddings, attending funerals, hugging our neighbors.  We’ve been asked to sacrifice going to church and even singing.

Some people have responded to that request for sacrifice with dismissal and disregard.  Others have responded with resistance, anger, resentment and even rage.  Some have sacrificed their common sense, floating it in their baskets down the longest river in the world, the denial river.  Old joke, I know, but it is still a pertinent joke.

As Christians, we are to respond to the request for sacrifice with, well, sacrifice.  Peter got into Jesus’ face when he told Jesus to stop talking about sacrifice.  Couldn’t following Jesus be fun?  A joy?  You know, the don’t worry bit of the birds of the field and the lilies of the valley?  But no, ‘take up your cross and follow me,’ Jesus replies.  That’s what Christians are called to do.  Make sacrifices of their personal preferences in order to serve the greater good.

I’m not talking the sacrificing of a jar of peanut butter or putting off buying those new shoes.  I’m talking about sacrificing our sense of outrage when we’re asked to wear masks, or our feelings of entitlement when we’re told we need to self-isolate for two weeks in our homes.  Our urge to react angrily when we discover that the store has run out of something we can’t live without.  Our envy and jealousy when we think that someone has gotten more than their fair share of what we deserve. Our need to control others who don’t want to be controlled.

Jesus calls us to sacrifice in a Christian way, with wisdom, kindness and faith.  Now more than ever, we need to sacrifice our assumptions about who we are and learn to practice greater self-understanding.  As Paul wrote,

 Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect. Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought to, but with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has given.

What does that look like right here, right now in the midst of our upside down world?  I think it means keeping calm, keeping thoughtful, and keeping kind.  These are the traits that we get when we sacrifice our fear, our anxiety, our anger and our entitlement.

We Christians know that the world can be tough.  There are Pharoahs that we will never meet passing laws that we don’t understand or making commercials that push us to buy things we don’t need.  There are soldiers following orders that we disagree with but that have little choice, like the grocery clerks who get yelled at because they have to tell folks to wear a mask.  But there will be midwives that undermine the bad decisions of others like the nurses who patiently test even the grumpiest conspiracy theorist.  There will be nameless princesses who disobey their fathers to rescue helpless innocents, like the many teachers preparing for the first day of school.  And there will be God, like the mighty Nile river, holding and supporting our baskets of sacrifice until they are transformed into beautiful gifts of hope to the world.  May it be so for us all.