Just Shine: May 2018

Healing Power

I was raised in a worldview that said ordinary and non-ordinary reality, the physical and the spiritual, are separate, and the spiritual is pretty much none of our business. We can’t measure spiritual things, we can’t predict or control them, so what’s the use of messing with them? Go to church, live ethically, and hope for the best.

So what happened to me? I got religion. The spiritual realm, non-ordinary reality, became real to me, and I wanted to understand it better. I decided to explore spiritual healing as a possibly useful way to experiment with the spiritual realm. This was in the early ‘90’s, pre-internet. I found an ad for “spiritual healing classes” in a little local newspaper in Minneapolis. I joined two other students to study under Paula Sunray. As you might guess, Sunray wasn’t her given name. Paula was a survivor of breast cancer, a wounded healer. She was passionate in her desire to share healing of body and spirit. She used crystals and chakras and the archangels and white light meditations and all kinds of props. Some of them I found very helpful, some of them I just found distracting. Paula also had a lot of practical wisdom about how to care for others. She taught us healer wannabe’s ways to care for ourselves, so that we could be of service to others. She taught me how to spend a half hour totally focused on bathing somebody in the love of God, and there are few things I’d rather do.

Working under Paula, it did become clear that I should keep my day job. But I got what I came for, a little clearer sense of how to envision and invoke spiritual power. That turns out to be pretty handy for pastoring a church, and for following Jesus generally. I also got a chance to develop some solid guidelines for ethics in the practice of spiritual healing, which I consider crucial.

*****

Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

May 27, 2018

Healing Power

Mark 5:21-43 When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. 22 Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet 23 and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” 24 So he went with him.

And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. 25 Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. 26 She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. 27 She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, 28 for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” 29 Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. 30 Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” 31 And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’” 32 He looked all around to see who had done it. 33 But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. 34 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

5:35 While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” 36 But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” 37 He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. 38 When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. 39 When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” 40 And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” 42 And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. 43 He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

In the gospel of Mark, Jesus heals people left and right. Everywhere he tries to go, lines of people are waiting at all hours to get healed, except in his hometown. Jesus heals until he’s exhausted, escapes to some desolate place, and then people in need of healing track him down. In today’s reading, he’s on his way to do one healing when a woman sneaks in for a quick drive-by healing. Jesus heals. Which, in Greek, is the same as saying Jesus saves. Did healing like that only happen two thousand years ago? Did it happen at all? Jesus told his disciples to preach the good news, and heal. We are his disciples. What do we do with that invitation?

In seminary, I never studied Jesus’ healings as such. I certainly never studied healing in the church today. My friends in seminary and I had all experienced various kinds of spiritual healing, but we were not given a language or framework with which to share it with you. So bear with me as I explore a topic that I have never preached about before.

If you say that physical healing through spiritual means is not possible, I respect that view. That is what we have been taught in mainline churches, if only by omission. Not possible. This belief saves us from a lot of snake oil salesmen, and a lot of people who would take your money to build their egos and their wallets and their mansions. It saves you from religions that require their members to use dicey spiritual healing instead of perfectly effective regular medical treatment. It also saves you from hard questions about who gets healed and who doesn’t. It is a way of avoiding the horrible lies that you could have be healed “if you just had enough faith, were good enough, deserving enough, prayed hard enough…”

I believe that physical healing through spiritual means is possible. I am aware of the pitfalls associated with my views, and I do not ask you to participate in them. But perhaps you might keep an open mind.

I continue to practice and refine my modest spiritual healing skills. I became a Reiki master in 2012. That means I am in theory able to teach others to do Reiki, though I haven’t yet done that. I have seen a few pretty powerful transformations in my Reiki practice. I can pretty reliably promise people that they will feel very deep relaxation. The retreat I took earlier this month in Virginia included a lot of spiritual healing, both giving it and receiving it.

Let’s try looking at today’s bible reading as if spiritual healing is a real possibility. I have some “hypotheses” about how it works. See what you think.

Our reading from Mark’s gospel is another one of those story sandwiches, chiastic narratives to be technical. The top slice of bread is Jairus, the head of a synagogue, kneeling at Jesus’ feet and requesting healing for his very sick daughter. The sandwich filling is that drive-by healing. A woman who has suffered for years from a hemorrhage, and from useless medical treatments, sneaks power from Jesus’ robe. But he senses it happening. His disciples make fun of him for that. He stops everyone, finds the woman, and lets her know that she hasn’t sneaked anything he would not have freely given. And the bottom slice of bread is Jesus refusing to acknowledge that Jairus’ daughter is dead, arriving at her home, and with some drama from the wailing chorus, he heals her from her near death experience.

The first thing to notice in all this healing may be so familiar we overlook it. Jesus never turns down a healing request. He never tells anyone they are not good enough, or deserving enough, or holy enough, or have not done the right rituals, or that God never gives you anything you can’t handle. He never says their suffering was given by God to punish them or to make them a better person. Jesus frequently says peoples’ suffering is caused by some kind of evil, and then he rids them of it. He gets angry at anybody who try to stop him healing. Jesus clearly wants everyone who asks to be made whole, body and spirit. And his tenderness, his caring, comes through loud and clear in today’s stories. Can you picture his strong hands gently enfolding that little girl’s small limp hand as he says, “Little girl, get up”?

As Christians, Jesus reveals God to us. So a first hypothesis about spiritual healing: Healing is God’s will for us, always; we don’t have to earn it or deserve it. You knew that, right? Only at this church you might have heard in this way: “Creative transformation is always luring us toward what is good and true and beautiful.” That’s great, but people who actually think God would cause illness need to hear it more bluntly. Healing is God’s will for us, always; we don’t have to earn it or deserve it.

Next, Jesus is always talking about peoples’ faith making them well. Uh oh, we have responsibilities. Jesus tells the drive-by woman that her faith has saved her. He tells Jairus, don’t be afraid, just have faith. What is this faith, and how do we get it? Simple. If you believe you can’t, you won’t. If you go to the doctor and submit to the treatment, it might work. If you never go to the doctor, the treatment that you never get is guaranteed not to work for you. Openness to God’s power, willingness to ask for help: that is the faith that makes healing possible. This requires vulnerability: we admit our brokenness, and we risk being disappointed. And it requires willingness to change. Our second hypothesis about healing: God doesn’t force healing on us; healing can happen when we seek it out and are willing to receive it.

Imagine yourself at a dinner party with Jesus. Would you be willing to tell him your particular hurts, and ask for his help? Or are you fine, fine, everything’s fine, don’t worry about it? God doesn’t force healing on us; healing can happen when we seek it out and are willing to receive it.

Faith is necessary, but not sufficient. Jesus did not say, “Your faith will heal you every time.” I do suspect there were times when Jesus couldn’t heal, certainly not completely. Those stories were not reported. Physical healing will fail every one of us at some point. But Paula used to tell me that when we practice healing, some kind of healing always happens, be it physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or relational. Spiritual or relational healing… those are things churches could do, should do.

As you may already know, a large part of the drive-by woman’s healing was a healing of relationship. Her monthly period should have been, for an observant Jewish woman, an occasional time apart for rest and renewal. Instead we suspect that it had become unending years of estrangement from God, or her family, or both. The healing of her body was also a healing of her relationships. It’s all connected.

Healing relationships…our church is already doing this. We do it when we declare that sexual minorities are whole and good and beloved of God. We do it when we visit people who can’t make it to church because of illness or disability. We heal relationships when we advocate respectfully for a more just social order. We do it when we treat our shelter guests as friends.

How about the church and the healing of our spirits? There are epidemics of spiritual sickness around us. We call them hatred and tribalism and scapegoating, violence and despair and loneliness. Has anybody felt the effects of those things recently? Just like in Jesus’ time. These things are contagious, but our faith, and our faithfulness can help protect us and heal us from these spiritual sicknesses. From this perspective, who among us needs healing? Maybe all of us. Do we seek the power of Jesus in our lives to overcome these things, to give us hope and healing? I do, daily. Can prayer and study and supportive community help? Can church help? Absolutely!

So here’s my third hypothesis: Healing is the work of the church. Spiritual healing of physical illness may be too “woo-woo” for you, but healing from the things that warp our souls helps our bodies too. Jesus’ power for healing did not end two thousand years ago. We can claim it, and we can share it. The language may seem odd to you, but we are already doing it here, and it makes a difference.

So here are those three hypotheses about spiritual healing. Put them to the test.

First, healing is God’s will for us, always; we don’t have to earn it or deserve it.

Second, God doesn’t force healing on us; healing can happen when we seek it out and are open and willing to receive it.

Third, healing is the work of the church. And I am grateful to be able to name that ministry out loud.

May you experience Jesus’ healing power in your life, through your relationship with God, and with people who love God, and may you share that healing power. Amen.

A Prayer for Mustard Seeds

A Prayer for Mustard Seeds
Brea Congregational United Church of Christ
May 20, 2018

(This prayer deserved its own post. Thank you Michael for letting me share it!)

Thank you, dear God, for dangerous, peaceful people who have planted mustard seeds in our world.

Thank you for troublemakers and agitators, people who upset the norm, for protesters and marchers, for leaflet printers and speech-makers, for joke-tellers and those who speak truth to power, for people who refuse to sit down, refuse to stand up, people who won’t shut up or be shut out.

Thank you for parents who know better and for children who ask why.

Thank you for teachers who love knowledge and for students who speak bravely and prophetically even in the face of gun violence, for people who won’t take it anymore, who fight back, fight cancer, fight with chants and charts, teach-ins, sit-ins, and kiss-ins.

Thank you for Bill W. and for Nelson M. and for Ruth B.G.

Thank you, dear God, for people who peacefully resist and civilly disobey, people who use their minds and their words instead of guns and bombs.

Thank you for those who work to heal the wounds of Santa Fe and Palestine and Brea.

Thank you for justices who vote for justice, for the justice workers who keep working, and for the indefatigable power of love of all kinds.

Thank you, God, for Jesus Christ and for all prophets who overcome.

And, thank you, Loving One, for planting a seed of all of these things in each of us so that we, too, might lend a hand, a hug, a thought, a tear, to the effort to change the world from a place of fear and domination to a place where children and ice caps are safe, where justice and equal access wins the vote, where there’s enough room for everyone at the dinner table, where people stay at the negotiating table until problems are solved, where good is common and the Common Good prevails.

In the name of peace,

Amen

Seeds of Hope

Fire Poppies

Five years ago, a seed was planted– in me. I began to believe I could grow a garden of California natives. My next door neighbor Tomaz had planted a successful native garden a few years before, and he was willing to help. The homeowners association gave me permission to reclaim my front yard, and it must have been a God thing because for months I was waking up early so I would have enough time to create my garden. I worked hard, and I loved it. And my garden grew!

Homeowners Associations hate native plants; they are not furniture. Most native plants, if watered like a lawn, will die. So designers have given up on them. Large natives are not transplantable. You have to start small. Many natives go summer dormant; they look dead. And some natives sit in the place they were planted for three years before they finally decide to start growing. There are desert plants from around the world that are less trouble. Unless you want to turn your irrigation off all summer. Then you need California natives.

A garden is a collaboration between nature and humans. The Kindom of God is a collaboration between God and humans. As the garden grows, we do not control it. So the Kingdom goes: we cannot make it happen, we can only be good gardeners.

A garden that is not made of furniture is ever-changing: it has seasons of growth and flourishing, and seasons of dormancy and loss. The Kingdom of God? It too is ever changing, springing up like the first Pentecost now and then, cut down in other seasons, some times just about invisible, like a tiny seed.

*****

Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

May 20, 2018, Pentecost Sunday

Hope from Seeds and Weeds

Rom. 8:22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; 23 and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

Mark 4:26 He also said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, 27 and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28 The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”

30 He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? 31 It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; 32 yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”

33 With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; 34 he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.

We live in a culture of instant gratification. Somebody mentions a name I’m not familiar with, and I google it on my phone. I want an obscure out of print book, I order it from Amazon. Unfortunately, the things that really matter take time; they require patience.

The suggested reading for this Sunday is the story of the first Pentecost. By tradition we call this the birthday of the Church. In this story, the Holy Spirit appeared to the apostles as tongues of flame. Miracles happened very publicly, and three thousand people were baptized that one day.

At that time, they expected Jesus back any day to set the world right, establish the Kingdom of God on earth once and for all. Instant gratification, and enduring perfection. But it didn’t work out like that.

Apparently God didn’t work that way. A dear friend, who is a skeptic, pointed out to me one time: where is that Kingdom of God? Look at the mess the world is in. Look at all the ways churches have been ineffective or just wrong. Why should I believe in the power of your God?

I suspect people were asking the same questions when Mark wrote his gospel. Jerusalem was under siege. Where was the Kingdom of God? Mark offers parables about seeds and weeds. Because the things that matter take time; they require patience. They require learning and experimentation, and we do not control them. They have seasons of flourishing, and seasons where we can only hope they’ll reappear. But we can learn to nurture the seeds of the Kingdom just as we can learn to nurture gardens.

I live in Irvine, the land of Homeowners Associations. A homeowners association allowed me to have a front yard garden that required no work on my part. The designers of the garden chose from a palette of plants that survive almost any condition. They act more like furniture than living things. And instant gratification: who wants to move into a housing development with baby trees in it? Why wait, when semi trucks and forklifts deliver full grown trees in 60-inch boxes. Sometimes the planters and the delivery people don’t coordinate their schedules; I drive by each day and and watch the full grown tree dying. Oh well, deliver another one, and then deliver two tons of dead potted palm to the dump.

I like having that green furniture all around my condo complex. And I have known for a long time that if I was required to grow my own garden for food, I’d starve. I have not been willing to show up, to be patient, to accept failures, and really learn how to grow food in my backyard.

But a few things have grown persistently. Sweet peas, which some of you have been enjoying this spring: I planted them once, and for the last twenty years they have been volunteering amid the roses; all they require is time…to die on the vine and make the garden look unacceptable to Irvine sensibilities, so that they can reseed.

HOA’s hate native plants; they are not furniture. Most native plants, if watered like a lawn, will die. So designers have given up on them. Large natives are not transplantable. You have to start small. Many natives go summer dormant; they look dead. And some natives sit in the place they were planted for three years before they finally decide to start growing. There are desert plants from around the world that are less trouble. Unless you want to turn your irrigation off all summer. Then you need California natives.

In typical Southern California willfulness, we have demanded of nature the unsustainable: lawns without weeds, tropical blooms 12 months a year. Nature obliges, at a cost. The Roundup and pesticides you are most likely to be exposed to are not in the grocery store but on your lawn, and your neighbor’s. And roughly half of our suburban water goes on our yards.

I wanted to respect the earth, but that’s not why I planted the garden. I wanted relationship. I wanted a little slice of the Bay Area coastal hills that fed my soul when I was a teenager. In order to create that, I had to plant, and learn, and experiment, and wait. I am still learning. And there is a three foot Catalina Cherry in my backyard that has grown six inches since I planted it four years ago. I’m learning patience.

A garden is a collaboration between nature and humans. The Kingdom of God is a collaboration between God and humans. As the garden grows, we do not control it. So the Kingdom goes: we cannot make it happen, we can only be good gardeners.

Fire poppies only grow in California. They are not subtle. They are only seen in abundance in areas that have burned a year or two before. Their seeds wait decades between fires, unseen, but ready to awaken when conditions are right. They remind me of Pentecost, those magic moments when the Gospel is so public and so compelling that everything is aglow with God’s spirit. May we see such things in our lifetime!

Mark never speaks of Pentecost fire blooming. Nor does he speak of the majestic trees of the forest that were sometimes used by prophets and psalmists to describe earthly kingdoms. Cedars of Lebanon, the closest thing the Middle East had to Redwoods. No cedars in Mark’s gospel. Jesus says the Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed. (And just in case somebody explains to you that the bible is inerrant, error free, mustard seeds are small, but not the smallest seeds on earth.)

Mustard seeds produce mustard bushes. Anybody who drives up the 57 freeway north of Brea has seen that brilliant yellow that in wet springs covers the hills. (Not this year.) I love that brilliant yellow. Mustard seeds do not produce majestic trees; they produce annuals, bushes that bloom brilliantly for a season and then fade. Which might be a clue to us about the Kingdom, the kin-dom of God on earth. Maybe it is less like a majestic tree, and more like a showy annual plant. It has its season, and then waits again for a chance to bloom.

I love mustard flowers. Imagine my dismay to discover that our local mustard flowers are pernicious invasive plants that take over hillsides and wipe out the natives. California birds do love mustard, not for nesting or for shade but for eating the flowers and seeds. Maybe mustard is different in the Middle East. Or maybe the established order, the powers that be, experience the Kingdom of God like a weed: as an invasion and a threat, that doesn’t follow the fire code. Imagine if we really put people the environment before money. Imagine if we said, “Yes in my backyard,” house people in need of housing. Imagine if we put as many resources into peace as we do into war. That could be a threat to the powers that be.

How I garden matters. It matters for the land, and the ocean and the bees and other creatures. Instant gratification comes at a cost that I am not willing to pay, so I do a lot of hand weeding. Things grow slowly without fertilizer, go dormant with less water, sometimes I lose a plant to pests.

If we want to collaborate with God to grow the kin-dom, how we do it matters. If we want to win at any cost, or give up at the first failure, if we’d rather be right than be in relationship, if we use force or fail to respect people… we may grow something, but it won’t be of God. If we follow Jesus’ teachings, certain strategies and tactics and ways of doing business that are taken for granted in the larger culture will be off limits for us. We will pay a price for that. Let us pay that price, because only when our methods are Jesus’ methods, are we participating in be the Kingdom of God.

Growing a garden is not a product, it’s a process. Maybe the Kingdom of God is also a process, ever sprouting, growing, fading, being destroyed, waiting invisibly, until the conditions are right for it to bloom again.

Maybe we can’t even imagine what the Kingdom of God will look like. The most delightful part of my native garden is the volunteers; the seeds that spring up that I didn’t plant. The sweet peas are reliable and I recognize them. But new native sprouts pop up, and for a while I don’t know what they’ll become. Californa Sagebrush, the most delicious-smelling plant ever, pops up now and then. White Sage. California Fuchsia. Desert Bluebells. Beach Primrose, and more. All of these would be labeled weeds in the furniture garden next door, and removed by the HOA gardeners.

I can’t force wildflowers to grow on my terms, and we can’t force the Kingdom of God to happen. But we can collaborate with God, instead of controlling, and see what grows. Hard work, patience, and unpredictable results. Just the opposite of instant gratification.

May the Holy Spirit work and among us, growing us in faithfulness and love, in strength and wisdom to follow Jesus. May seeds of hope surprise and delight you. May we be patient in seasons when God’s work seems invisible, or under attack. And may we be witnesses to the power of the Holy Spirit, wind and fire, new life sprouting and growing, in a world still groaning for the birth of God’s reign. Amen.