From the UCC Network: 04/23/2012 "Loaves and (Gold)fishes"

Loaves and (Gold)fishes

John 6: 9-11

“There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted."

Reflection by Elizabeth Griswold

A few years ago, I was walking across the quad of a large university and noticed a group of inner-city elementary school kids on a field trip. Just as I came upon them, they paused to take a break, and the teacher began to pass out carrots. Being in a playful mood, I smilingly reached out my hand too.  One of the little boys turned to me with a very concerned look on his face and asked, “Are you hungry?  Do you want some goldfish?” And he reached into his pocket. 

I think sometimes the greatest gift we can give another is to receive graciously their heartfelt offer of hospitality. So I accepted his crumpled bag of crackers with sincere gratitude (since I really was kind of hungry too!).

But I felt that his gift was greater than that. I felt as if I had just witnessed firsthand a modern-day miracle. The multiplication of the loaves and fishes right before my eyes!

Maybe the Bible’s stories are alive all around us, and it’s our job to find ways to tell the old, old stories in beautiful new ways. You’ve heard of rose-colored glasses. Well, what if churches’ stained glass windows were lenses that colored the way we see the world through what’s depicted there? 

Then our theology just might help us view those biblical figures as regular people revered not because they are different, but because they are like us and still somehow managed to serve God in ways that changed history and society.

Prayer

Dear God, help us to recognize you in the ways you appear all around us—and especially in those seemingly meager yet astonishingly abundant offerings that just may feed both our bellies and our souls. Amen.

About the Author Elizabeth Griswold is the Associate Pastor of Irvine United Congregational Church, Irvine, California.

From the UCC Network: 04/21/2012 "Cash the Check"

Cash the Check!

Excerpt from Psalm 4

"Know this: the Lord takes personal care of the faithful." (CEB)

Reflection by William C. Green

It's one thing to know we are loved and respected, another to act on it. But the less we act on it, the less we know it. What does love or respect mean if it's just left sitting there? Like a gifted musician or a skilled athlete, if we don't use our gifts they waste away and we wonder if we have what it takes to perform well.

Another way of looking at it might be to consider ourselves recipients of a large check made out to us. What if I failed to cash it?

So it is with God's promise to take personal care of us. Today's verse says "know this." Knowledge in the Bible is active not passive. Knowing is doing. We cannot really know love, respect, talent, skill, or gifts of any sort (including money), until we quit puzzling and do something about them. 

What of those who are destitute, unable to know and do much of anything that shows God's personal care? Aren't they faithful enough? Or maybe they're not faithful at all? Those questions need to be asked of us. How are we acting on the love and care we're given to know? God's personal care does not just drop down from the sky. It works within us, for us, and then through us for others, whatever their circumstances. When we plant the seeds, God reaps the harvest. God personally cares for all of us.

Prayer

Make known through me your personal care of us all. Amen.

About the Author William C. Green is Vice-President for Strategy and Development of the Moral Courage Project at the NYU Wagner Graduate School of Public Service, and the author of 52 Ways to Ignite Your Congregation: Generous Giving.

From the UCC Network: 04/18/2012 "Endangered Blank Spaces"

Endangered Blank Spaces

Isaiah 58:13-14

"If you refrain from trampling the sabbath, from pursuing your own interests on my holy day… if you honor it, not going your own ways, serving your own interests, or pursuing your own affairs, then you shall take delight in the Lord."

Reflection by Martin B. Copenhaver

From a recent article in The New York Times:  "Add this to the endangered list: blank spaces."

"Advertisers seem determined to fill every last one of them.  Supermarket eggs have been stamped with the names of CBS television shows.  Subway turnstiles bear messages from Geico auto insurance.  US Airways is selling ads on motion sickness bags."

One marketing research firm estimates that a person living in a city sees 5,000 ad messages a day.  No wonder we feel bombarded.

So, yes, add blank spaces to the endangered list.  And we need blank spaces as much as we need room to breathe or room for the Holy Spirit to breathe through us.

In the 1930s there was an Oxford don, an influential Anglo-Saxon scholar, who was quietly correcting the papers of his students.  Picture the pages before him on his desk.  Each page is densely packed.  He writes his own comments, adding to the crowded pages.  Then he turns over one page and finds it is blank.  This is something different and unexpected.  He pauses before the blank page and, for whatever reason—later he could not explain why—he writes one sentence:  "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

The Oxford don was J.R.R. Tolkien and that sentence is the opening line of his famous novel, The Hobbit, the introduction to his masterful Lord of the Rings trilogy.  He had never written a word of fiction before coming upon that blank page.

Do you have enough blank spaces in your life?

If not, do you have any new ideas about what you might do about that? 

How about a very ancient idea?  How about Sabbath?

Prayer

God, let me just pause in your presence for a moment so that you can write something on my heart.

About the Author Martin B. Copenhaver is Senior Pastor, Wellesley Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, Wellesley, Massachusetts. He is the author, with Lillian Daniel, of This Odd and Wondrous Calling: the Public and Private Lives of Two Ministers.

From the UCC Network: 04/17/2012 "Bridges"

Bridges

1 Peter 4:17

"And the world and its desire are passing away, but those who do the will of God live forever."

Reflection by Donna Schaper

Eternal life is a scary concept.  Consider all the laundry, dishes, dusting that could involve.  Consider the arthritis or the love handles or the varicose veins.  Also consider what it would mean to live unafraid of dying as a body and living on as a spirit.

Some of you may know the Tappan Zee Bridge that spans the Hudson River between the storied town of Sleepy Hollow and the bustle of Nyack, New York.  It was built to last 50 years and has now lasted 56. A new bridge is being proposed at the cost of $5 billion.  It will cost $150 million to tear the old bridge down. A creative idea has occurred to New Yorkers: a Tappan Zee Greenway.  Why not keep the old bridge up, next to the new bridge, as a walking, biking span?

I like this approach to eternal life.  Like bridges, we keep on living, but our function changes. It is no longer to stay young, while using cars and oil.  We become immortal, but stronger legs bike us. Imagine the lettuce, corn, and compost that would thrive when roads are no longer buried in concrete.  Imagine being old with dignity and pride.

Eternals know that change is a constant.  We know the power of imagination and spirit in a world of concrete and cars.  Bodies diminish, but bridges between Nyack and Sleepy Hollow—and life and death—last.

Prayer

When we have the shiver and quiver of death in our hearts, bridge us, O God, to immortality.  Show us a way for the spirit to thrive.  Amen.

About the Author Donna Schaper is the Senior Minister of Judson Memorial Church in New York City. Her latest work is 20 Ways to Keep Sabbath, from The Pilgrim Press. Check out her work at www.judson.org.

From the UCC Network: 04/16/2012 "Psalm for Getting it On"

Psalm for Getting it On

Excerpt from Psalm 127

"Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain...It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; For he provides for his Beloved during sleep."

Reflection by Christina G. Kukuk

With a wink and the wag of a head, the singer asks an annoying question of the workaholic: What do you really gain running yourself ragged, rising before dawn and pushing past midnight? Why settle for "the bread of anxious toil," always coming home long after the plates on the table have turned cold?

The one who sings knows what it means to be truly human: Working and eating, and… well, one more thing. You could call this "The Psalm for Gettin' it On."

Is this a poem about prayer or procreation?  Spirituality or sex? Like all good religion, it's ambiguous. The translation for polite company slumbers with innocence, "for he gives sleep to his beloved." But the next paragraph suggests zzzzzzs aren't the only provision.

"Sons are a heritage… the fruit of the womb a reward…"

Someone is getting fruitful, in the Biblical sense. And a quiver-full of ankle biters in those days was a picture of God's blessing. Babies weren't a metaphor for life. They were your life. A passel of them was insurance against starvation in a subsistence agricultural economy. In the so-called developed world today, that's no longer true. We couple up and procreate for other reasons and sometimes none at all.

But like a good song, the truth in these notes can still be heard: You are a being—not a machine. The dance of your working, eating, and love-making creates a spiritual economy not only in your own household, but also in the world. Your ability to stop working early enough to make love with your partner, and your ability to stop toiling once in a while and trust enough to pray are related. The Creator Chef spreads a feast.

So stop early once in a while.

And get it on.
   
Prayer

Master Chef, we confess: If we're trying by sheer force of will and power, by long days and short nights, to build our castle, career, portfolio, or program - we'll spend ourselves in vain. Help us to stop early once in awhile, and trust you enough to get it on. Amen.

About the Author Christina G. Kukuk is the Senior Pastor of First Congregational United Church of Christ, Elyria, Ohio.

From the UCC Network: 04/11/2012 "Secret of the Blues"

Secret of the Blues

Excerpt from Mark 16:1-8

"Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?" (Good News Bible)

Reflection by William C. Green

The secret of the blues is strength in the middle of trouble. It brings to mind what Reinhold Niebuhr meant by "creative despair."

Listen, for example, to B.B. King, Muddy Waters, and Nina Simone. Amid dejection and lyrics like "can't do nothin'," or "love lies dead," there's something else: an unyielding defiance of those very feelings, disdain for whatever stirs them up. "Mississippi Goddam!" sang Simone.

The three women who wanted to anoint Jesus knew the stone to the tomb was in their way as surely as death stood in the way of the love of their lives. Stones—and death: "God---!" It turned out that the stone had somehow been rolled back and they were told they would see Jesus again. But, as happens to us, too, the first happiness of faith is subsequently interrupted by apparently insuperable obstacles. Some stones don't easily go away.

The songs of enduring faith are not only "gospel songs" of happiness. They include the blues at their best. Not just mournful and melancholy, but defiantly strong, making clear that I may be down but I'm not out.

Whatever stands between us and our strength in God cannot silence our faith. One way or another, that's what we can sing about. That's the spirit of Jesus himself who, facing the worst, outlasted it and lives among us in the spirit of God.

Prayer

May the obstacles in my way—the stones in my life—inspire greater faith, realistic and undeterred. Amen.

About the Author William C. Green is Vice-President for Strategy and Development of theMoral Courage Project at the NYU Wagner Graduate School of Public Service, and the author of 52 Ways to Ignite Your Congregation: Generous Giving.

From the UCC Network: 04/10/2012 "Do You Have Anything to Eat?"

Do You Have Anything to Eat?

Excerpt from Luke 24:36-49

"While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, 'Have you anything here to eat?'"

Reflection by Martin B. Copenhaver

Jesus asks a lot of questions in the gospels — 307, to be exact.  Even when the risen Christ appears to the disciples, he is still asking questions.  We might assume that, on this occasion at least, he would have settled for declarative sentences.  And if he were to ask questions at such a time, we would expect those questions to be momentous ones.  But one question he asks seems anything but momentous.  According to Luke, soon after Jesus appeared to his disciples, he asks, "Do you have anything here to eat?"

What do you make of that?  That doesn't sound like the question of a Risen Lord.  It sounds more like the question of a teenager arriving home from school.

So his disciples give Jesus a piece of broiled fish and he eats it.

Apparently, rising from the dead really works up an appetite.  Who knew?  Get this fellow something to eat!

So what's going on here?  Well, for one, it's a way for Luke to affirm that Jesus' presence is real.  He isn't a ghost. 

But, knowing Jesus, the follow-up question is this: "Does your neighbor have anything to eat?"   After all, this is the same Jesus who taught us to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread."  Not mydaily bread, our daily bread.  It is a collective plea, not an individual one.  In this prayer we say so often is the radical notion that your neighbor's need is not different from your own need.   There is only our need.

Fifteen centuries ago, Saint Benedict wrote that Jesus comes to us disguised in every stranger knocking on the door asking for hospitality and asking for food.  And if that is true, the question on his lips surely is:  "Do you have anything here to eat?"

That turns out to be a momentous question, after all.

Prayer

Jesus, give me eyes to see you, especially in your distressing disguise as one of the poor. Amen.

About the Author Martin B. Copenhaver is Senior Pastor, Wellesley Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, Wellesley, Massachusetts. He is the author, with Lillian Daniel, of This Odd and Wondrous Calling: the Public and Private Lives of Two Ministers.

From the UCC Network: 04/09/2012 "The Day After"

The Day After

Mark 16:6-7

"He said, 'Don't be afraid. I know you're looking for Jesus the Nazarene, the One they nailed on the cross. He's been raised up; he's here no longer. You can see for yourselves that the place is empty.'" (The Message)

Reflection by Lillian Daniel 

The day after Easter is usually very quiet in churches. The staff and volunteers are often taking some well-deserved time off. The church might even look a bit of a mess, after what may be the most highly attended service of the year. The pollen from the lilies has had time to scatter around the church, as petals droop, giving things a musty air. Coffee cups spill out of full trash cans. The phones don't ring.

I know this because I often come into church on the Monday after Easter. I love how quiet it is, and how well-used it all looks. It's like waking up the morning after a great party, but no one has a hangover.

To me, Easter is the highlight of the church year, the biggest celebration of them all, after which I can't help but ask, "So now what?" After the intensity of Holy Week, the sorrow followed by the joy, where do we go from here?

We go back to the work of living, of cleaning up the flowers, of straightening up after the party, of seeing the usual people on Sunday mornings, and not all those extras. It's hard to not feel a little sad that every Sunday can't be like Easter. It's tempting to judge the people who only come on Easter.

If they came every Sunday they would see what a loving, special place our church is! And if they don't come again, we will judge them for it. Oops. That can't be right.

I think there's a reason every Sunday can't be Easter. We're not ready for it every Sunday. We need all those other Sundays to gear up for it, to appreciate it, and then to recover from that much joy in one place.

We need a quiet Monday, so that the walls of the church can rest, the halls of the classrooms can breathe, the cloud of witnesses in heaven can sigh and remember that one day later, Christ is still risen. He is risen indeed.

Prayer

Christ the Lord is risen today. And the day after. And the day after that.   Amen.

About the Author Lillian Daniel is the senior minister of the First Congregational Church, UCC, Glen Ellyn, Illinois. She is the author, with Martin Copenhaver, of This Odd and Wondrous Calling: the Public and Private Lives of Two Ministers.

From the UCC Network: 04/08/2012 "Easter! A Really New Day"

Easter! A Really New Day

Excerpt from Mark 16:1-8

"And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb."

Reflection by Talitha Arnold

The sun came up that day.

That's the one tangible thing about Easter the four Gospel writers agree on. They don't see eye to eye on any other details of the most important event in the Christian faith. Was it a group of women who went to the tomb or just Mary Magdalene? Did they go before dawn or after daybreak? One man or two who greeted them? In Mark, the women run away and don't tell anyone. In Luke, they tell the disciples who don't believe them.

But the writers do agree the sun came up that first Easter. 

This morning at my church, some of us will gather outside in darkness for the Easter Sunrise Service. It's never a big group. Sometimes my fingers are too cold to strum the guitar. Since we also have indoor Easter services filled with people, lilies and even The Hallelujah Chorus, one could argue a Sunrise Service makes no sense.

Every Easter Eve, when I set my alarm for 4:00 am, I remember the bleary-eyed teenager who once advised, "Talitha, next year it's an Easter Sunset service. Got it?"  But I also remember the sunrise services growing up in South Phoenix. The mystery of gathering in the darkness, the sweet smell of the cool desert air, the sense of awe as the world came alive with the new light of dawn.

I remember, too, later Easters as a young adult when I felt far from God. The Easters when, because of family sorrows, all I could believe was that the sun would come up and it would be a new day.

It did and it was.

Maybe this is an Easter of Hallelujah Choruses and all kinds of new life for you. Perhaps, though, all you can believe in is that the sun will rise, and it will be a new day. If so, take heart. Sometimes that's all the rest of us can believe in, too. In fact, it's the one thing those Gospel writers could all agree on.

The sun came up and it was a really new day. Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia!

Prayer

Thank you, God, for this new day. Thank you for the new life of Easter, however it comes to us this year. Amen.

About the Author Talitha Arnold is Senior Minister of the United Church of Santa Fe (UCC), Santa Fe, New Mexico. She is the author of Worship for Vital Congregations, published by The Pilgrim Press.

From the UCC Network: 04/05/2012 "It Can Also Be Blessed to Receive"

It Can Also Be Blessed to Receive

John 13:5–8

"Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, 'You will never wash my feet.' Jesus answered, 'Unless I wash you, you have no share in me.' Simon Peter said to him, 'Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head!'"

Reflection by Anthony B. Robinson

On Thursday in that last, holy week, Jesus had a final dinner with his disciples. It was then that Jesus tied a towel around his waist, took a bowl of water, and knelt to wash the feet of his friends.

When Jesus came to Peter, Peter said, "No way." "Lord," said Peter, "you shall never wash my feet." I suspect that Peter would have been comfortable washing Jesus' feet, being in the giving role. He wasn't so comfortable on the receiving end.

We often hear, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." There's truth in that. But this saying and its truth may hide another: giving can be an act of power, while receiving tends to make us vulnerable. It can also be blessed to receive. And sometimes it's harder.

For some it is a whole lot easier to give gifts than to receive them. For some of us, it can be difficult to accept or to receive help. We may be generous givers, but impoverished receivers. When someone gives you a compliment, are you able to receive it? If a friend or pastor were to lay a hand on your head and bless you, could you handle it?

When Peter said, "No way," to Jesus, Jesus responded bluntly, "Unless I wash you, you have no part in me." Peter relented. "Then, Lord, wash me all over."

Soon Jesus would be gone and Peter would be called to give and give and give again. He would be asked to lead and serve others. Perhaps Jesus wanted Peter to know that before he was a giver, he was—and would always be—a receiver, a receiver of God's extravagant grace for him. Why? Because it's difficult to give what we have not received.

There's a time and place to be generous givers; and there is also a time and place to be generous receivers. This night, this week, is one such time.

Prayer

Holy Kneeling One, wash me all over. Cleanse me in your love. And grant me the grace to be a generous receiver. Amen.

About the Author Anthony B. Robinson, a United Church of Christ minister, is a speaker, teacher and writer. His newest book is Called to Lead: Paul's Letters to Timothy for a New Day, and he is also the author of the just-publishedBook of Exodus: A God is still speaking Bible Study. Read his weekly reflections on the current lectionary texts at www.anthonybrobinson.com by clicking on Weekly Reading.