Beyond the Wilderness

(Note: Since I rarely write a post on the weeks I’ve been asked to preach in an area church, Joel suggested I put it on my blog. What do you think? This is a message I gave in Bar Harbor, Maine, this past Sunday. The readings were Exodus 3:1-15; Romans 12:9-21; Matthew 16:21-26.)

            Rarely, almost never, do I put a title on a Sunday message prior to writing it.  I believe it is a Spirit-led endeavor and I never know where she is going to take me.  Today’s is the rare exception.  After writing out the lengthy readings weeks ago, three words tucked into them started to haunt me.  It may have been the Spirit totally upending my process.  As soon as I read: “He [Moses] led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God,” I wanted to know where that was, beyond the wilderness.  And I wanted to be there! 

Scripture works in mysterious ways.  The most inconspicuous words might take hold in your subconscious and show up behind your eyelids before you go to sleep or in morning meditation.  God can be tricky that way!  Then you can’t ignore them, and weeks later when you begin to write, they show right up as a title on the first page.  Well, I decided to go with it.

            “Moses led his flocks beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God.”  How do you get there, beyond the wilderness?  I would like to know.  I feel that we have all been wandering in a kind of wilderness together these days.  For me, the wilderness has always connoted an unsettling place of the unknown.  I have four siblings and all five of us live in different states.  Lately I start my day checking the weather in their respective home states.  How hot will it be for my sister KC, her kids and grandkids, in Georgia; are there tornadoes headed for my brother John in Missouri; are floods forecast for Susan as they recently inundated the Albany, New York, area; are there any sharks off the beach where Maureen swims and rescues seals in Rhode Island?  We’re usually okay here in Maine unless the smoke from the Canadian fires threaten anyone’s health.  And possible sharks!  I had none of these fears before.  This is a stressful and unfamiliar territory.  A wilderness of sorts.

            But that is not the only disconcerting region we wander through in our times. No matter what place we hold on the political spectrum, we cannot escape the discomfort of living in a time and place of deep antipathy.  Hostility reigns in many of our once tranquil communities as rage and fear of violence grows.  We live in a wilderness of animosity in our towns, our school districts, our families, and even within marriages and long-term friendships.  We are living in a tinder box with the constant potential of a match thrown in.  Clearly torches have already been hurled into places like the Middle East, central Africa, Eastern Europe, with the west and others setting the fuses.

            But you know all of this.  Must I rehash the woes of our time in a place we often come to for peace?  I’m afraid I do, if only to ask what is the purpose of the church in this wilderness?  Is there a way for the church to lead beyond and away from all the chaos?  Beyond the wilderness?  It is clear that the church needs to respond to our time as it is, not as it used to be, or even as we wish it to be.  This is what Jesus was getting at when Peter tried to soften the teacher’s message, denying the great danger he is in.  Jesus tells him to “Get behind me, Satan.”  Basically, what is happening today and what is soon to happen is what we have to deal with.  We must face it, all the way to the cross.  We cannot deny the times we are in and where we are headed and still serve God.  Jesus said, “If you want to follow me, you must pick up your own cross.”  We cannot get beyond the wilderness in any other way.

            But first, let’s take a look at the biblical concept of wilderness.  Times in the wilderness, the Israelites for forty years after being freed from Egypt and before entering the Promised Land, and Jesus for forty days and nights immediately after his baptism, were about more than uncertainty, unfamiliarity, and fear.  There was purpose in the wilderness.  It cannot be rushed right on through.

            When I was wrestling with those three words, beyond the wilderness, I googled them to see if anything would pop up.  Lo and behold, I found a little book by Rev. Thom Gardner with that very title.  The subtitle is “Rediscovering Opportunity in Crisis.”.  It presents wilderness as an essential period of self-discovery and preparation, a time spent with a God Gardner describes as a “repurposing God who turns trauma into triumph, failure into freedom, and pain into power.” (p.15) Perhaps we are not just lost in a wilderness, we are being “repurposed”. 

            Gardner claims that “wilderness may mean separation from what is familiar, but also separation to God and not from God.” (p 22)   He notes that solitude, which Henri Nouwen describes as a “furnace of transformation” is an element of the wilderness experience.  Without solitude, Nouwen wrote, “we remain victims of our society and continue to be entangled in the illusions of false self.”  I think our current wilderness experience is already beginning to disabuse us of our illusions.  Think about it…what have you learned about these United State of America in this extended wilderness time?  About yourself? 

            Another essential question:  Has the church been living in an extended wilderness time?  I suspect it has as people still long for “the good old days” when Sunday School was bursting at the seams, every church could call a full-time pastor, and the church was a center of social and familial life, a role now held by schools and civic organizations.  It is worth noting that those were the times when mainline Protestant churches seemed to walk hand-in-hand with American culture and norms.  Not so anymore.  And I say “Thank God!”  For would we truly be an authentic church if we celebrated the values that our current culture celebrates?  It does feel like God is repurposing us!  And we are deep in the process. 

            Let’s go back to Moses for a minute.  What happens just as he finds himself “beyond the wilderness?”  He has a powerful spiritual experience.  He sees a bush on fire, but not being consumed.  When he turns to look at it, God calls out to him.  The time Moses has spent in the wilderness has prepared him to hear and recognize the voice of God when he is called and to answer despite his fears and sense of inadequacy.  His time has readied him to be repurposed.  It is the same for us. 

            We have been readied to be a faithful church of Jesus Christ for our particular time and place.  We will not try to become the premier church lording it over a broken culture, which may define the White Christian Nationalist movement.  There is nothing “Christian” about it.  If we are to be authentic followers of Jesus, we must serve and protect the lives of all people.  Every creed, every color, and persuasion.  Particularly the poor and the marginal.  The oppressed and the refugee.  The homeless and imprisoned.  The indigenous and immigrant.  The church is being repurposed in this American culture which has left many of its ideals behind. 

            I add a little P.S. at the end here:  More than ever before it is clear that neither can we be a true church of Jesus without each other.  Without the support of a kind and hospitable community in which love is genuine and all have a strong sense of belonging.  I included the Pauline reading today because Paul’s advice is excellent!  “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

            Secondly, it is clear we cannot do what we need to do without, like Peter, letting go or our denial and sharing our individual fears about what is happening.  Don’t rush the wilderness, take time in solitude and prayer to deepen your connection with the Spirit who not only calls to you, but is in you.  Keep your eyes wide open to perceive your burning sign and receive your particular mission.  Be reassured that your feet are standing on holy ground.  For God will always be our sure foundation.  Amen   

“WANING” (?)

Rev. Dr. Kate Winters, “Dwelling in Presence,” January 6, 2024

A pretty quarter moon hovers over me as I write this morning. It is a waning moon, raising the question: What things are waning in my life these days? When I write this blog, I tend to focus on growth and addition, not contraction and diminishment. Perhaps that word, diminishment, is part of the problem. It hints at a lessening, a negative event, when maybe there are many ways that our lives enhanced by becoming somehow less, smaller, more circumscribed.

I am finding that growing older is an experience of waning, at least for me. The most obvious evidence of this is in comparing my appointment calendar of 2022 to the one of 2023. Now the first year of retirement is bound to have fewer engagements than the one before, having little to do with the reality of aging. Also, having major surgery in a year is bound to slow one down. But I did spend whole weeks without seeing anyone at all, except Joel of course. To be honest, that slower pace, having many periods of wide open days, seemed to suit me. It may be that growing older is allowing me to settle into my introverted nature a bit more, withhout an ounce of guilt! I could have been more actively engaged with others, but chose not to.

Accompanying the longer stretches of solitude, came more mindfulness in conversation, and thus the waning of idle chatter, perhaps a more judicious use of words. I have experienced conversation to be more intentional, with a larger purpose than just “talk”. It may be as we age we are less likely to want to stay on the surface with people. Teenage gabfests with friends were very enjoyable as were grad school “debates” about anything, but I really have no interest in repeating them. I feel a deeper urgency to get to the heart of things, to the heart of myself and others, and this seems to require less verbiage and more silences. Does this mean my social self is waning while something else is waxing? I don’t really know.

What else is waning thse days? I wish I could say it is my need to “please” people, but sady that seems to be hanging on. All wrapped up with caring about what others think of me, I’m afraid these will be two of my last ego traits to fall! But the good news is the more I can observe my thought patterns in the silence and solitude, the more I recognize it when these habits take over. I can, if I will it, stop!

One thing that has surprised me as I turn sixty-eight this week is that I have lost none of my drive to grow and perhaps have even increased in my ability to make personal changes. I am learning that the older I become, the less adamant I am to hold on to the old ways I used to think. Growing up I heard a lot about old people supposedly “stuck in their ways.” In my pastoral work I have found this to be more true of the young and the middle-aged than it is of their elders. Now, I am ready to learn new ways of being and thinking, my insistence on former ways is waning. Growing older is much more exciting than I thought!   

ARRIVAL OF A NEW SEASON

Kate Winters, “Dwelling in Presence,” September 22, 2023

On the cusp of a new season, I open a new journal and begin to write. Why is it so hard to lay ink down on this page? It feels like having a chance for a new beginning and not wanting to mess it up. A new journal, a new season, a new stage of my life. Fall begins tomorrow. I have no doubt that it is ushering me into the autumn of my life.

Perhaps I have been here for a while now, but something has changed. I feel a new sense of acceptance. Certainly, I am no longer young, no hint of the eager star performer I was as a child. I have left behind the promising youthful scholar I was in graduate school. I only have fond memories of the gently radical Catholic minister and preacher I was in my late thirties and early forties called the “Woman Chaplain” at the University of Wisconsin Catholic Center. But I no longer have her stamina or the need to reform the entire Roman Catholic Church.

I continue to embrace my ordination in the United Church of Christ, but after twenty-three more years of pastoring local churches, I have retired from that role. I don’t think it is everything that I am any more. My gaze has simulteously become more inward and more cosmic in scope.

I am definitely moving into a new phase, with new priorities and more subtle energies. What I do know is that I will take all that I love into this new season. My incredible partner Joel, who continues to make every step of our journey together more joyous. A continuing desire to teach and to learn. A yearning for God which has always been the deepest thing about me, and the most honest. As I look up, a spectacular half moon surrounded by a soft mist is shining down on me. The journey into autumn is nothing without the holy mystery of it all. I am blessed.