The Face of Jesus

Immigrants from Mexico and Central America are being called animals, painted with a broad brush as criminals, by our president. Muslim is made synonymous with terrorist.  This instills fear.  Fear is the point; fear rallies voters.  Labeling immigrants dangerous criminals is a quick and false solution to the social and economic problems our country faces.  That is scapegoating.  Let’s name it as scapegoating.  Blame an innocent “other” to unify people around hate and fear. Fear and scapegoating are at the heart of our post-9/11 immigration policy; they didn’t start with the current administration. And our laws have long allowed brutal treatment of immigrants.

May we weep in repentance for the soul of our country.  May we bear words of comfort to those in fear, and words of challenge to those who scapegoat and hate.  May we truly trust that love wins in the end, and call upon that love to help us make our immigrant neighbors welcome.  May we see in immigrants the face of Jesus. 

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Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

June 24, 2018

Bad News, Good News (about Immigration)

Rom. 12:9-21  Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good;  10love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. 11Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord.  12Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.  13Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. 

            14  Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. 15Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.  16Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are.  17Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all.  18If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. 19Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.”  20No, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.”  21Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

The Good News of Jesus Christ is a jewel with many facets. At its heart is the reality that we can love because we first were loved.  We can name what is broken in us and invite healing and transformation, because we all are broken and we have been invited into healing and transformation.  We can face terror and heartbreak and not lose heart, because at the heart of the universe is love, and love wins in the end. If love hasn’t won, it’s not yet the end. 

Now for the bad news.  On Thursday June 14, U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions used a bible verse to justify the separation of young children from their parents at the border.  The verse he chose is immediately after the portion we read.  Those would appear to condemn the actions he was trying to justify. He said, "I would cite to you the Apostle Paul and his clear and wise command in Romans 13, to obey the laws of the government because God has ordained them for the purpose of order."

The first verses of Romans 13 have been cited throughout the ages to short-circuit Christian resistance to every unjust law or regime you can imagine. Romans 13 especially popular among those defending the Fugitive Slave Act in the run-up to the Civil War. It was used repeatedly in the 1930’s to justify Hitler.  And it was used by defenders of South African Apartheid and of our own Jim Crow segregation.

Sessions’s suggestion that Romans 13 represents some sort of absolute, inflexible rule for the universe has been refuted by religious authorities again and again. Augustine said that “an unjust law is no law at all.” In Romans 13, Paul was pretty clearly rejecting a significant view among Christians of his day: that civil authorities deserved no obedience in any circumstance.

Even if taken out of context, in Romans 13 Paul is the shepherd telling the sheep that just as they must love their enemies, they must also recognize that the wolf is part of God’s world. In today’s context, Jeff Sessions is that wolf, and no matter what you think of his policies, he is not entitled to quote the shepherd on his own behalf.  Maybe those desperate women and men at the border should suck it up and accept their terrible lot in life and defer to Jeff Sessions’ idolatrous grasp on evil laws. But for the sake of all that is holy, don’t quote the Bible to make the Trump administration’s policies towards immigrant families sound godly. (Paraphrasing and quoting Ed Kilgore, “No, Jeff Session, separating Kids from their Parents isn’t ‘Biblical.’” New York Magazine, June 14 2018)

Bible and religion are justifying cruel and bullying behavior in the public sphere regularly these days. That is bad news. People hearing it conclude that the Christian religion is bad news.  

If you take the bible literally as a guide to behavior, you will get mixed messages about a lot of things, and truly scary messages about a few things, with one notable exception.  As I read it, the bible is crystal clear, and speaks in one voice, about how to treat immigrants and refugees. Leviticus 19:33-34 (which I read to the Brea City Council): When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien.  The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.  Matthew 25:35: I was a stranger and you welcomed me.  And many more. The most compelling bible passage for me is the Good Samaritan, a story about a foreigner going out of his way and spending lots of money to help aforeigner who probably considered him a lesser breed of human. 

Our call as followers of Jesus is clear. Welcome the stranger, the immigrant and refugee.  Not just when it’s convenient.  The number of people seeking safety and opportunity in the United States is overwhelming.  So we can acknowledge the tension between the call of our faith and what is easy or practical in public policy.  But if our faith is real, we don’t abandon it because it’s “impractical.” 

America’s identity has been as a land of immigrants, a land of opportunity. That identity always had some cracks in it; ask African-Americans how they got here, or Native Americans about their child separation, among other crimes. But until recently, we were the country that took in more refugees and more legal immigrants than any other.  Emma Lazarus’ words for the Statue of Liberty are so radiant because they mark a nation’s aspirations that are in tune with the Good News of Jesus. 

            “Give me your tired, your poor, 

            Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, 

            The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. 

            Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, 

            I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

14% of the American population is foreign-born. About 3% are undocumented.  In Orange County over 30% of us are foreign-born. 99% of us are the descendants of immigrants.  Religion aside, how dare we slam shut that golden door after we have walked through it?  But our religion is not an aside.  “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” 

The architects of this recent child separation sought to deter refugees by being stunningly cruel, and advertising being cruel.  That’s new. But those “child cages” are not new.  They were built during the Obama administration to temporarily house unaccompanied teenagers, who started coming to our borders in large numbers in 2014. Those children were fleeing horrific violence and economic collapse in Central America.  They still are.

The Department of Homeland Security, DHS, which includes Immigration and Customs Enforcement, ICE, was created in response to 9/11/2001.  9/11 is when we began to fear immigrants.  Back in 2003 the DHS stated, and I quote, “Moving toward a 100% rate of removal for all removable aliens is critical to allow the ICE to provide the level of immigration enforcement necessary to keep America secure.” Did you catch that? They are saying that anyundocumented people are a danger. That’s called scapegoating.  Blame all your problems on some innocent goat, or people, and then drive them away to solve your problems.

                                                                                       

All removable aliens. 11.7 million people, including about 2 million Dreamers, people who arrived as children, many of whom know no other country, and have no way to become legal residents, and 5 million more people who have been here for more than five years and are parents of American children, and also have no way to become legal residents. 

Jailing immigrants started back in the 1990’s.  Under the Bush and Obama administrations after 9/11, detention camps were built and filled, but the work was being done quietly. I overlooked it; did you?  Some of the pictures of youth in cages that we’ve been seeing date to 2016.  Stories of infant separation date to 2012 and before.  I overlooked it; did you?  Immigrants did not overlook it.  They have lived in fear since 9/11, though that fear has heighted under the current adminstration. ICE wasted no time in taking advantage of a more supportive administration to tighten the screws.

At the beginning of this year, a staggering 800,000 people awaited a hearing on their immigration status.  There are 300 judges to hear those 800,000 cases. Over 40,000 people awaiting hearings were in detention at any given time in 2017, including families with small children.  Detention is a nice word for jail. We can guess the numbers are much larger recently since “zero tolerance” means automatic detention at the border instead of escort back to Mexico. Tent cities?  You bet. And billions of dollars.

Since 9/11, immigrants have been jailed all over the country, in tent cities, warehouses, for-profit prisons, and the James Musick jail in Irvine. My friend Betty Guthrie works with an organization called Friends of Orange County Detainees.  She told me that people with legitimate cases for political asylum go to jail when they present themselves at our border. Family separation happens every day when parents are jailed for being undocumented. Their children go to family, friends, or the foster care system; nowadays family and friends are often afraid to take them in for fear of being jailed themselves. Detainees have no right to legal representation, even if they claim asylum from danger in their country of origin. No legal representation. This is because deportation and asylum hearings are not criminal hearings; they are civil matters; misdemeanors. 

They are civil because undocumented entry into the U.S. is not a crime. Let me say that again.  Undocumented entry into the U.S. is not a crime!  Asylum seekers are jailed for months or years because of a civil violation. If they have around six thousand dollars and the knowledge required, asylum seekers can get released on bond.  But if they challenge their case, they have to stay in jail during the challenge, which can take years. Two-thirds of immigrants have no legal representation for their hearing.  People without representation are ten times as likely to be deported as those who have representation. People with money have a decent shot of eventually getting legal status; poor people almost never do.

If you have anything on your record and you have so much as a parking ticket and your skin is brown, forget it. Not showing up to a scheduled hearing.  A teenage indiscretion.  None of us here have those I’m sure.  A parking ticket.  Now you’re really a criminal.  

Last July I met the family of Liliana Cruz Mendez. She was a resident of Virginia for more than ten years.  In 2013 she was pulled over for a broken headlight, and that gave her a “criminal record.” She was granted a stay of deportation.  In July of 2017 she went to her annual ICE check-in, and from there straight to detention in another city without time to phone her family.  I prayed with Liliana’s husband and two children. It was heartbreaking. Despite rallies and great news coverage for her case, and the governor of Virgina pardoning her broken headlight ticket, she was deported to El Salvador within days. But the laws that allowed it to happen are also evil.  Liliana won’t be eligible to even apply to legally immigrate back to the U.S. for ten years, when her son will be 20, and her daughter 14. 

Immigrants from Mexico and Central America are being called animals, painted with a broad brush as criminals, by our president. Muslim is made synonymous with terrorist.  This instills fear.  Fear is the point; fear rallies voters.  Labeling immigrants dangerous criminals is a quick and false solution to the social and economic problems our country faces.  That is scapegoating.  Let’s name it as scapegoating.  Blame an innocent “other” to unify people around hate and fear. Fear and scapegoating are at the heart of our post-9/11 immigration policy; they didn’t start with the current administration. And our laws have long allowed brutal treatment of immigrants.

That is a whole lot of bad news. Ironically, good news begins to happen when we, who have been blessed by this country’s welcome, begin to taste the suffering of our immigrant brothers and sisters. We must see and feel and name what is broken before it can be healed and transformed. 

The need is truly overwhelming.  We may not be able to be as compassionate a country as our faith tells us to be, but we can do so much better.  In fact, we might want to get good at welcoming refugees because climate change is coming.  In case we are whining about being overburdened, contemplate the fate of Lebanon. That country of four million has taken in one million Syrian refugees.

So where’s the Good News? Good news happens when we name our unjust immigration laws and cruel policies for what they are, scapegoating, and when we advocate for justice.  Like: Don’t imprison immigrants, and don’t make minor infractions into criminal charges. Good news happens when Friends of Orange County Detainees visit asylum seekers in the Musick jail so they know they are not forgotten, and when angel donors raise thousands of dollars to release an asylum seeker on bail, or even give enough money for a parent to phone a child from jail.   Good news happens when volunteers host legal clinics for immigrants.  Good news happens when we as Christians speak out to counter the twisted narrative of fear and scapegoating that has overtaken our country, when we speak out for Jesus’ law of love, and his imperative to welcome the stranger.

Are you scared of America being overrun by immigrants?  Well here we all are!  It happened a long time ago.

I can’t put a bow on this sermon; the topic of immigration is big and confusing and messy, but I can give you a lot of footnotes.  May we weep in repentance for the soul of our country.  May we bear words of comfort to those in fear, and words of challenge to those who scapegoat and hate.  May we truly trust that love wins in the end, and call upon that love to help us make our immigrant neighbors welcome.  May we see in immigrants the face of Jesus.  Amen.

Holy Rest

A story is told of some American missionaries who were traveling to a remote location somewhere in Africa.  The last part of their route had no roads, only narrow trails.  They had to walk.  These missionaries had quite a bit of baggage, so they hired a group of local people to be their porters, and carry all that baggage.  Together they hiked across rocky plains and they forded streams, they walked narrow paths with dangerous drop-offs, and they camped each night.  For three days, the Americans set a brisk pace, stopping only when it got dark, getting up early to head on down the trail. The local people followed along.  

On noon of the fourth day, they stopped for lunch in the shade by a river. After a half hour the missionaries were ready to hit the road again.  The local people were all sitting on the baggage under some shade trees, watching the river and talking quietly.  They ignored the calls and hand-waving of their bosses.  The Americans got frustrated.  “Tell them it’s time to go,” they told their translator.  After a brief consultation, the translator came back and reported, “They say they cannot go any further until their souls catch up with their bodies.” 

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Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

June 17, 2018

God’s Rhythm

Psalm 127:1-2  Unless the LORD builds the house,

                        those who build it labor in vain.

            Unless God guards the city,

                        the guard keeps watch in vain.

            It is in vain that you rise up early

                        and go late to rest,

            eating the bread of anxious toil;

                        for God gives sleep to his beloved.

Mark 6:30-32   The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught.  31 He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.  32 And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. 

A story is told of some American missionaries who were traveling to a remote location somewhere in Africa.  The last part of their route had no roads, only narrow trails.  They had to walk.  These missionaries had quite a bit of baggage, so they hired a group of local people to be their porters, and carry all that baggage.  Together they hiked across rocky plains and they forded streams, they walked narrow paths with dangerous drop-offs, and they camped each night.  For three days, the Americans set a brisk pace, stopping only when it got dark, getting up early to head on down the trail. The local people followed along. 

On noon of the fourth day, they stopped for lunch in the shade by a river. After a half hour the missionaries were ready to hit the road again.  The local people were all sitting on the baggage under some shade trees, watching the river and talking quietly.  They ignored the calls and hand-waving of their bosses.  The Americans got frustrated.  “Tell them it’s time to go,” they told their translator.  After a brief consultation, the translator came back and reported, “They say they cannot go any further until their souls catch up with their bodies.” 

Does anybody else besides me routinely set a pace for living so that your soul has trouble catching up with your body?  Our culture teaches us that more is better.  More work, more play, more self-improvement, more bargain hunting, more achievement, more volunteering, more efficiency, more, more, more…  Letting your soul catch up with your body is not part of that program.

The bread of anxious toil, the psalmist calls it. I’m not sure what that means, but it’s good poetry.  When we are running from one activity to the next, how will we make room for the sacred?  For caring?  For wisdom?  How will we recognize and appreciate the gifts we are given? Tending relationships takes time. How will we listen to the signals of our own bodies, our hearts, telling us what we need to thrive?

As we transition to summer, it’s a good time to remind ourselves that we can take holy rest.  Time for pondering and praying, for receiving the beauty of the earth and the love of our friends and family.  Rest is not a luxury.  Rest is biblically sound, and medically sound, and ethically sound.

Burnout can come from working so long and hard that our bodies crash.  But more often burnout comes from feeling anxious and discouraged, despairing and disconnected from what matters.  From not attending to our souls.

The antidote to burnout is not just rest, but holy rest, time spent remembering who we are, and whose we are. Our worth does not come from what we produce.  We are not human doings.  Our worth is assured.  We are children of a God who loves us beyond measure.  We don’t have to earn that love by working harder or faster.  We are human beings, not human doings.

I learned my adult faith from Methodists.  Their founder John Wesley said:

            Do all the good you can,
            In all the ways you can,
            To all the people you can,

            Just as long as you can.

That’s a great slogan.  In practice, it can be exhausting.  Methodists keep busy.  They have more committees than UCCers.  They have many collections for many good causes. Their regional meetings make our regional meetings look short.  When I talked to my good friend Joy about what her Methodist church in Newport Beach (same size as ours) has been up to, I felt jealous.  Then I thought about it a little longer, and I felt relieved.

I will be brainstorming this summer what we can do to have fun and learn and love and serve God.  You are allowed to remind me I am no longer a Methodist.  You are allowed to say “no thanks” to my bright idea when you need time for your soul to catch up to your body.  You are allowed to do what you do around here not for efficiency; but do it for love, with heart, with passion, with imagination.

When we slow down, it can happen that some things we were running from catch up with us.  Fears, guilts, disappointed expectations, griefs.  They were there all along though we were too busy to recognize them; they were stealing our freedom and our joy. 

This is how I usually realize that my soul needs to catch up with my body, when I can’t enjoy what I’m doing.  When I finally feel bad enough, I stop and ask myself, “What’s going on here?”  I discover what it is that’s been making me eat that bread of anxious toil, and then I can give it over to God. It’s me avoiding that one thing I really do need to do, or worrying about how to fix that thing that it’s not my job to fix. When I slow down, pray about it, talk it through with a buddy, and sleep on it, what I need to do and what I need to let go become clear. I get peace, lightness. I see that path forward. I longer eat the bread of anxious toil.

When we get in touch with the huge needs in the world, we can feel guilty if we’re not stepping up for every good cause.  How can we relax when climate change is accelerating?  How can we take time off when our democracy seems to be unraveling? And what about the migrant children?  It can tear us apart. Yet our anxiety only reinforces the climate of fear that oppresses us all.  We can exhaust ourselves without accomplishing anything.

In order to show up for the deep challenges of our time, we need to be firmly rooted in our sacred identity as children of God, co-creators of hope and healing.  We need to hang on to our souls for dear life.  We will burn out or tune out unless we find God’s rhythm.  It takes time to grieve.  It takes time to pray and do my homework, sleep on it, and wait to discover: what is one small thing I can do that might make a difference.  Not fix the problem.  That’s way beyond my pay grade.  If I imagine we have to fix these things, I will burn out. 

But we are not alone. It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for God gives sleep to God’s beloved.  And we are each of us God’s beloved. God is with us, in us, ready to help, if we slow down and listen. Also, find a buddy or a mentor, because it’s easier to hear God with a little perspective on the issue.  Asking for help takes time too!

God would love to collaborate with us to create something wonderful.  In order to do that, we might have to make space in our busy lives, set aside our preconceived ideas, and listen.  Maybe for a still small voice.  Maybe for the voice of a wise companion. And maybe listen to our own heart.

And what will you and God create?  Maybe just a peaceful heart.  “Just” a peaceful heart. Maybe you will create a Spirit-filled space to listen and love and just be.  “Just” be.  Maybe the seed of an idea that will be a long time growing into something you can’t yet imagine.  Maybe you and God will create the courage to do one small thing that is most needed.  Or the wisdom not to do that thing that really won’t help. 

Meditation is one tool we can use to slow down and let our souls catch up to our bodies.  Jesus said, Come away to a wild place all by yourselves and rest a while.   In your mind’s eye, picture a place in nature to rest, and imagine yourself there. Let it be a beautiful place, a sacred place.  A place where your soul can catch up to your body; where you experience the sacred and find hope.

Here is a poem by Ted Loder that I have on my phone, for when I need it:

Gentle me,

Holy One,

into an unclenched moment,

      a deep breath,

            a letting go

                        of heavy expectancies,

                                    of shriveling anxieties

                                                of dead certainties.

that, softened by the silence,

      surrounded by the light,

            and open to the mystery,

I may be found by wholeness,

      upheld by the unfathomable,

            entranced by the simple

                        and filled with the joy

                           that is you.

Amen.

You Invited Me

We aren’t going to pull the plug and go live in a primitive society.  Our electronic devices are here to stay. But don’t imagine that you have any clue what’s really going on with your friends from Facebook.  You have to call them.  Talk with them at coffee hour.  Invite them for a meal.  Jesus was a big advocate of that.  There is a minor saying of Jesus that didn’t make it into Matthew 25, because it was so obvious to his first followers: “I was wanting to connect with you, and you invited me to share a meal.” 

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Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

June 10, 2018

Two by Two

Mark 6:1-13   He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him.  2 On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands!  3 Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him.  4 Then Jesus said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.”  5 And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them.  6 And he was amazed at their unbelief.

             Then he went about among the villages teaching.  7 He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.  8 He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts;  9 but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics.  10 He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place.  11 If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”  12 So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent.  13 They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

Two by two.  The buddy system.  I first learned the buddy system when I took scuba lessons.  I still use what I learned when I snorkel, which is one of my favorite things to do.  I love to snorkel more than just about anything else.  My favorite part of God’s good earth is the wonderland of fish and plants and corals that I see snorkeling.  To be safe snorkeling, you need to use the buddy system.  Two by two.  Have a buddy, and don’t let that buddy out of your sight.  To communicate with your buddy, you have to learn hand signals.  Stop.  OK.  Something’s wrong.  I’m cold.  Look, there’s something cool over there.  And… buddy I need you.  Get closer!

The buddy system.  Did you ever get a buddy assigned to you that didn’t work out?  My assigned UCC mentor.  My first college roommate.  Sometimes the buddy system works brilliantly.  And sometimes it would be easier to go it alone.  Americans are taught that it’s a virtue to go it alone.  Rugged individualism, just me, not the buddy system.  Don’t impose.  Don’t act needy.  Besides, people are so complicated.  Some of them push our buttons.  We have the right to be free of them.  We often don’t have the skills or the will to mend broken relationships, so it’s just easier to go it alone. But seldom is it better to go it alone.

We are pack animals; we evolved in close-knit interdependent bands of a couple dozen people.  In prehistory, people were almost never alone, and they had to figure out how to stay in relationship with the same people year after year.  To leave your band’s territory alone was to put your life at risk.  Our American ideal of rugged individualism doesn’t fit our biology. On average, people are happier together than alone, even Americans.  They report less depression, less anxiety.  Their health is better.  They live longer.  We are meant to be connected.  We ignore relationships at our peril. 

Jesus invites us to be connected, but not always in traditional ways.  He grew up in a traditional village that to us would seem too close, but he didn’t stay there.  In fact, our reading says Jesus couldn’t stay in his home village and be taken seriously.  Interesting.  We make assumptions and judgments about the people we’ve know for a while, and we don’t notice or believe when they have truly changed.  We have trouble noticing that the sacred has been at work among us, creating something new, right here.  We need some outside perspective to help us notice.  So thank you for coming to worship: bible and sermon and prayer might be the perspective we need to notice creative transformation happening among us. God at work.

In today’s reading there’s that talk of demons again. Unclean spirits. Mark is always talking about those demons.  Jesus got rid of demons, OK, sure, but followers of Jesus get rid of demons too.  That’s us.  Who’s ready to get rid of some demons? 

Let’s assume that there is something real behind all this demon talk.  All the mysterious reasons things get messed up?  Mark, like a lot of ancient people, blamed demons.  We understand now that some of that is just chance.  But some of our troubles do come from unseen forces, like beliefs and practices that don’t serve us; the systems that seem OK to us because they’re what we know, what we grew up with, but an outside perspective would say: “Why are you doing that to yourselves?” All that junk that oppresses our spirits that we have trouble even naming, let alone taming.  Mark called it demons; we don’t, but it’s real, and it’s oppressive.  The Good News of the Kingdom of God helps clear away that junk that oppresses us; gives us a new perspective.  Jesus can free us from believing that junk is inevitable, or even normal.  But each day I need to be reminded of that Good News, or the junk will make me forget what Jesus teaches me.  I can’t do that alone.  I need the buddy system.

In our reading, Jesus is taking his show on the road. The road was built by the Roman empire.  Empire thinking made people objects.  Empire thinking would eat up the Good News if his followers didn’t have support to protect them from the “demon” of empire thinking.  So when he instructed his followers to hit the road, he said, among other things, to go two by two: the buddy system.

Have Mormon missionaries ever knocked on your door?  They always go two by two, right?  They are following Jesus’ advice in our gospels: the buddy system.  And when you answered the door, you were outnumbered.  See, the buddy system works. 

Reverend Heather Miner and I are prayer partners.  Each week we pray for each other and our churches. I reel off what’s going on in my life and at the church, the celebrations celebration and the worries and the hopes.  And she wraps them all up into a prayer, and I get perspective, and hope. Then I do the same for her.  Heather is one of a half-dozen or buddies I have who support me on a regular basisas a follower of Jesus and as your pastor.  I am serious about using the buddy system.

When you have a hard thing to do, don’t go it alone.  Find mentors, find buddies.  And when you have a little something to offer, offer to be a helper and a buddy to someone else in need of support.  Then be gracious if somebody doesn’t take your offer; that you even offered is real support.  The buddy system does not come easily to most of us.  But when I work up the courage and make the ask, I’m usually glad I did. 

In working the buddy system, be persistent.  If I had taken offense the first time my buddies stood me up, I wouldn’t have many of them. Reverend Heather stood me up two weeks ago.  I was a little hurt.  I wondered: did she even care about our prayer partnership?  Her reply to my text made it clear that she was hurting and withdrawing.  It wasn’t about me.  I got her to schedule a makeup call.  And then I spaced and missed her call!  I texted her and told her how much she mattered to me, and we’re good now.

Who uses Facebook?  Facebook gives us the illusion of buddies.  Facebook is addictive, by design.  The posts are purposefully scrambled so that you have to keep checking because new things keep popping up among the old like a lottery.  And the more people have liked and commented on a person’s posts, the more those posts will show up on our feeds.  So when a shy person finally gets up the nerve to post on Facebook, nobody sees it, so nobody can click “like,” and their social isolation is reconfirmed.  When people try to share their not-so-good news, nobody wants to give it a thumbs up (that seems rude), so Facebook decides it’s not interesting and doesn’t show it to anybody.  But as I discovered this week, when you actually ask for prayers of support on Facebook, people do reach out to you with words of encouragement.  But nobody actually picked up the phone and called me.

We aren’t going to pull the plug and go live in a primitive society.  Our electronic devices are here to stay. But don’t imagine that you have any clue what’s really going on with your friends from Facebook.  You have to call them.  Talk with them at coffee hour.  Invite them for a meal.  Jesus was a big advocate of that.  There is a minor saying of Jesus that didn’t make it into Matthew 25, because it was so obvious to his first followers: “I was wanting to connect with you, and you invited me to share a meal.”  So thanks to all of you who set up for coffee hour, and cook for shelter guests, and eat with them, and invite your friends for coffee or a meal…  As a church, we are looking into structure that can support our growing as a church.  Being intentional about making connections.  Facebook is great for advertising events, but real connections are critical.  So let me know if you are interested in doing something like writing cards or making calls to help us be more connected.

Two by two.  That native garden I planted in 2013 was a partnership. I made a garden on paper, pretty much by myself.  I’m great with theory; it’s real life I need support with.  I hired some guys to rip out the lawn and deliver some decomposed granite and sand.  That just took money.  I took a rake and made hills and arroyos that my son called Indian burial mounds.  I went with my minivan to Tree of Life nursery and brought home forty-five plants in pots.  I did not hire gardeners to plant these plants, because natives are special, and you have to plant them just the right way, and gardeners don’t do it the right way.  I didn’t really know the right way either.  I knew it in theory, but not really.  I set the pots where they were supposed to go from my plan, and I went to bed.  Then I stayed up all night, thinking of all those times in the past I had bought plants in pots and let them die in the pot because I hadn’t really planted them.  Nightmares of potted plant death en mass, a potted plant massacre. 

In the morning, I tentatively tapped on the door of my next door neighbor Tomaz, whose native garden had helped inspire mine.  I asked him if he would show me how to plant a native plant.  He grinned, got his boots on, fetched his shovel, and started digging.  (There was hose work involved too.)  He planted the first plant, and I thanked him.  He started planting the second plant, and I said, “You don’t have to do that.”  “Oh, but I like planting,” he said, and ninety minutes later, fourteen plants were planted, including all the big ones.  Then he watched me plant one, pronounced me competent, and in two days the garden became reality.

Tomaz moved to New Jersey a year and a half ago. Seema inherited his garden.  Being from Pennsylvania, she was very confused at first.  A garden that you only water every other week?  And doesn’t flower all year long?  She talked about just taking it all out, planting furniture plants, and giving it back to the Homeowners Association.  I told her I could help her with it.  Between living in Virginia and then working here in Brea, I’ve put in very little time helping her, but we’ve chatted, I’ve helped her choose plants.  She knows she can call any time with questions, and I will answer with enthusiasm.  Interesting word, enthusiasm.  Comes from “en theos”, in God.  Enthusiasm can be contagious. Seema appreciates the subtle beauty of her native garden now, and she knows how to care for it.  And due to the funny geometry of our condos, I see more of her garden out my windows than she does.  Seema and I are gardening buddies, co-creating beauty and harmony with the earth. 

If you want to follow Jesus, don’t do it alone.  We get perspective and enthusiasm and inspiration from other people who have it.  Don’t wait for perfect people. Get yourself a buddy for your journey of faith.  And give your buddy a big load of grace. 

Now please take a minute to think:  Where do you need support in your life, following Jesus, in being who you are called to be, and who can you ask to help you? 

God, thank you for companions on the Way.  Help us to give and receive grace, as we learn to live together, love together, serve together.  Bless us with the buddies we need to learn and celebrate and serve with confidence and joy.  Amen.