The Gift of Belonging

Dear loved ones, we are about half way into our sabbatical now. And we are home (for a time).

For seven Sundays we've worshipped in different places mostly with people we don't know. There are good reasons to do this and good things to be learned from it. But this morning, as we worshipped at Neland Church and celebrated God tabernacling here among us, I was overwhelmed at being, once again, among the people to whom I belong. Belonging is an unspeakably precious gift. Pastor Len's message proclaimed the truth that while it is amazing that God Himself made an appearance on this earth in human flesh, the power and beauty comes in knowing that this was done FOR US. To US a child is born. To US a son is given. God's great desire is for US. God's great longing is for us to know we belong. We belong in the center of God's loving, hospitable embrace. And belonging to one another gives us a tangible experience of that loving embrace.

OK. Enough sermonizing.

I'm also thankful to belong to my loving family. As you can see, it's huge. Last night we gathered, sang, prayed, exchanged gifts, grieved our losses, and celebrated that not only do we belong to each other, we belong to the One who was born among us and for us, the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.

San Diego Zoo

One of our Christmas gifts to the kids was a day at the San Diego Zoo. What a fantastic place! Just a few of our photos.

Graciously Patient

I ran 3 miles with Max this morning. I was thrilled to be able to do so. But please take a second and picture the length of that boy's legs (he's 6'3"). Not only did he agree to squeeze his size 13 feet into Greg's size 11 running shoes (he'd forgotten his own), he also nonchalantly slowed his pace considerably for his grey-haired partner. He was graciously patient with me.

It's humbling to be in need of gracious patience. The truth is, we all are. John Calvin talks about how we are all slow, slow to grasp the ways of God. And so God accommodates to us. Calvin describes it is as God lisping for us.

"For who even of slight intelligence does not understand that, as nurses commonly do with infants, God is wont in measure to ‘lisp’ in speaking to us? Thus such forms of speaking do not so much express clearly what God is like as accomodate the knowledge of him to our slight capacity. To do this he must descend far beneath his loftiness” (Calvin, Institutes, Book 1, Chapter 13, Section 1)

It's good we take time to meditate on God's condescension for our sake. He knows our frailty, our pain, our weaknesses, our sorrows. He remembers we are dust. And not only does he lisp so we can begin to grasp his greatness, he became one of us so that we might know his incarnate, eternal love. These verses from Once In Royal David's City say it well.

He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall;
With the poor, and mean, and lowly,
Lived on earth our Savior holy.

For he is our childhood's pattern;
Day by day, like us He grew;
He was little, weak and helpless,
Tears and smiles like us He knew;
And He feeleth for our sadness,
And He shareth in our gladness.

Along with you, my heart hurts for those whose sadness and losses are so sharply felt at Christmas. May they know the gentle presence of Immanuel. And may the peace our Savior brings and the hope that is ours because of his gracious patience with us, stay with them, and with us all in these days of sorrow and joy.


And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love;
For that Child so dear and gentle
Is our Lord in heaven above,
And He leads His children on
To the place where He is gone.

A Watching World

Several years ago I read the book, It Takes A Church To Raise A Christian. This morning we met the author who is also a pastor at San Clemente Presbyterian Church. I was glad to have the opportunity to speak with him briefly after the service.

Let me say, first of all, it was wonderful to worship together as a family. Secondly, we all found the worship meaningful, especially communion. Interestingly, when I asked Bolsinger what was most foundational to this church's efforts of hospitality and community building, he said, "weekly communion." Bolsinger claims that the church became significantly more connected and more committed to being faithful witnesses to a watching world when they ate and drank more often at the Lord's Table together. He suggested that in a service without partaking together in the Lord's supper, without the stark reminder that we, together, are the Body of Christ, one could leave with the impression that personally hearing and applying "the message" was the goal of the service. His thinking is that in a service in which communion is celebrated, it is unlikely you will leave with that more individualistic view of worship and, beyond that, the church. At the same time their church began to think hard about their witness to a watching world. These are certainly things worth thinking about.

In Bolsinger's book, I liked the challenge for churches to think in terms of the shared life of the three persons of the Trinity,as a bases for our shared life and our commitment to unity and shalom. In his book, Bolsinger writes, "We must- by the way we live together- affirm the reality of who God is as Divine Communion, and model our lives on God's life. That 'witness by living together' calls forth a spirituality to be lived out in our larger communities. We are not only messengers of the gospel; we are, by our lives together, the very mission of God who is at work in the world."

To a watching world may our shared life together (as churches and the church) faithfully show the loving outstretched arms of God, who graciously invites us all, as frail, broken, flawed objects of his love, to be nourished at his table and to remember and believe that the body and blood of our Lord Jesus, our Immanuel, was given for the complete forgiveness of all our sins. Thanks be to God!

Strangely Beautiful

We spent a few hours this afternoon in Joshua Tree National Park. Again, a dry and desolate place. It's also strangely beautiful. We learned the Joshua Tree was given its name by a group of Mormon settlers who crossed the Mojave Desert in the mid-19th century. The tree's unique shape reminded them of the biblical story when Joshua reached his hands up to the sky in prayer.

Hmmm. I don't really see it. But it is cool to imagine every tree representing prayers lifted to God.

Greg and I have had a lot of time to pray and to pray together in these last few weeks. May God be merciful and gracious and tender to those who, especially now, need to know God is near.

The Desert

Isaiah 40:3
A voice of one calling: “In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord ; make straight in the desert a highway for our God."

We hiked in the desert today. It's not a hospitable place. Rough. Parched. Desolate.

We first worshipped at a small Presbyterian church. I was hoping for more desert talk there. It was a good enough service but we were disappointed that we were already worshipping at the manger. We were told that the Light who came into the world was full of grace and truth and so we were to be filled with joy and tell others, "Merry Christmas."

Ok, I've oversimplified the message a bit. But I kept thinking the Light who came into the world exposes more in me than I want to see and acknowledge. We need the prophets. We need to be reminded of the desert places in our hearts. I thought about words of Alexander Solzhenitsyn; "If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”

Thankfully, the Light who has come into the world knows the darkness and the desert places of our lives, knows all about our split hearts, and still calls us to prepare for God to live in us and with us. And,of course, that's where the manger, the incarnation, the Christ of Christmas comes in. We cannot open our hearts, we cannot love without the Love of God first coming to us. Our wounded and divided hearts are healed and made whole only through the One who set aside a throne for manger and cross.

Today my prayer is for those who are truly in the desert, in the wilderness; those who grieve, those who suffer pain or loneliness or isolation or persecution or pervasive fear or any form of imprisonment.

Here is our hope.

"Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low;the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,and all people will see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

Grace and peace.

Waiting and Hoping

So many of my loved ones are waiting. My mom waits for relief of life-depleting back pain. My aunt waits for a break in chemo-induced nausea. My friend Ron soon begins an intense regimen of treatment for recurring leukemia and waits for a life-saving bone marrow transplant. Others I care about wait in hopeful expectation for news that will significantly impact life. We are a waiting people. How long, O Lord?

Yesterday Greg and I visited a non-profit called Homeboy Industries in downtown LA. Some of you know I've been inspired by the ministry of Father Gregory Boyle to gang members in LA, and the book that describes it, Tattoos On The Heart.

Elena gave us a tour. Elena was abandoned by her parents and lived a horribly jagged life on the streets. She was incarcerated as a teenager and released at 33. Longing for new life, new hope, she discovered Homeboy Industries. This ministry offered her not only practical services and programs like counseling, tattoo removal, and job training, but also a sense of kinship, belonging, and spiritual nourishment. Elena now speaks about her life and the impact that Homeboys/Homegirls has had on it.

Elena too waits. She waits to see more and more gang members given a second chance at life, and for far too many, a truly first chance. She waits to see more and more gang members leave their gang affiliation behind to come in and work shoulder to shoulder with hated enemies. She waits for our broken world to believe and embrace the truth that over hatred, violence, and fear, love wins.

We are a waiting people. How long, O Lord? Come, Lord Jesus. We wait with hope.

These words from my most treasured Christmas carol sound in my heart today for all who wait.

Oh holy night!
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear Savior's birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till he appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh night when Christ was born
Oh night divine
Oh night divine

Truly He taught us to love one another
His law is love and His gospel is peace
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His name all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.

The pictures show Elena and I first of all next to the laser machine. Elena has endured many removal sessions which cause her skin to blister badly before the healing happens. The second picture is a computer lab at Homeboys/Homegirls where job searching, resumes, and school assignments are worked on. In the final picture, Elena and I are standing in front of a wall garden. What a useful and practical idea for a wall that gets plenty of sun!

Yosemite And a Quote

As you can see, we worshipped on Sunday in an unspeakably beautiful, awe-inspiring cathedral, Yosemite National Forest and Park. Clear skies, few visitors to the park, and the stark beauty of the massive granite spires and peaks stunned and wooed us.

On Sunday evening we had a good conversation with some new friends about the challenge of sacrificial hospitality. We seemed to conclude that to welcome "the stranger" requires a willingness not only to gain information and a deeper knowledge of another person, but a willingness to give up something of our own security and comfort, trusting that as we welcome and love sacrificially, in God's economy, we become richer. It reminded me of something I'd read earlier Sunday morning.

"Sarah being barren (Genesis 11:30), the command to “go forth” placed before Abraham a difficult choice: he would either belong to his country, his culture, and his family and remain comfortably inconsequential or, risking everything, he would depart and become great—a blessing to “all the families of the earth” (Brueggemann 1977,15ff.). If he is to be a blessing he cannot stay; he must depart, cutting the ties that so profoundly defined him. The only guarantee that the venture will not make him wither away like an uprooted plant was the word of God, the naked promise of the divine “I” that inserted itself into his life so relentlessly and uncomfortably."

Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace

It's a great privilege to have this time to reflect and be renewed. We miss those dear to us but look forward to seeing many of you at Christmas.

Wishing you Advent peace and hope.

Advent Hope

The 10:45 worship service at City Church in San Francisco yesterday had both Greg and I teared up at different points. It was about Advent longing and about how the fulfillment of that longing can never come from what we posses. We have done such harm to others and ourselves believing that. Our fulfillment comes from a person, Immanuel, God with us. My heart resonated with these two verses from the song, Savior of The Nations,Come.

Savior of the nations, come,
Show yourself, the virgin's son.
Marvel heaven, wonder earth,
That our God chose such a birth.

Christ in glory intercede
For your creatures' suffering need.
Let your resurrection power
Soon complete the victory hour.

The first Advent candle was lit, reminding us that it is Jesus who comes into the darkness of our world to bring renewal, life, and hope.

After the service I thought a lot about God wearing our flesh. He was vulnerable, touchable, even huggable. I thought about this because not a single person greeted us after the worship service. Not a hello, a handshake, or even a nod. After a while I decided to approach someone. Turned out to be a great decision. His name was Max, which could only help endear him to us. Greg and I had a long, relaxed, wonderfully edifying conversation with Max. To us, it moved what we had just experienced in worship, into a deeper place in our hearts. In other words, our spirits were nourished and became more hopeful as we experienced the presence of God in this human encounter. We parted ways after we all hugged, feeling like we were leaving a long-time friendship.
A taste of advent hope.
Thank you, Jesus.
Thank you, Max.

San Anselmo

San Anselmo is the actual location of San Francisco Theological Seminary, our current "home." Here's a little history on Saint Anselm (not from memory).
Saint Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109) was an outstanding Christian philosopher and theologian of the eleventh century. He is best known for the celebrated “ontological argument” for the existence of God....but his contributions to philosophical theology (and indeed to philosophy more generally) go well beyond the ontological argument. Anselm's motto is “faith seeking understanding” (fides quaerens intellectum) which means something like “an active love of God seeking a deeper knowledge of God."
Just down the street from us is St. Anselm Catholic Church. The pictures show the church and courtyard.
While the town is quaint and lovely it's also very affluent and expensive. Biking is HUGE here. We're talking completely decked out bikers with bikes that cost hundreds,even thousands of dollars. Because we wanted to get a better taste of the culture and had some "ground transportation" funds available, and because it would cost $60/day for Greg and I to rent bikes, we went to Walmart and purchased two cheap bikes and the needed safety equipment. In short, it's been great to have them. We even purchased a bike rack "on the cheap" through Craig's list from Adrian, a friendly recluse who happened to live not far from the Sanoma Valley, where we stopped for some olive oil and wine tasting.
Tomorrow we plan to visit City Church, an RCA church in the heart of SF. It's been recommended to us as a church committed to building community and demonstrating the love of Christ to people who find themselves lost and lonely in one of the most densely populated cities in the US.

Gratitude and few more pictures

Dear Friends and Family, on this very different Thanksgiving eve I'm posting a few pictures and naming just a few things for which I am thankful.
First, that God is good and graciously extends his love to all. One final quote from the book, Friendship on The Margins. "The idea of being a friend of God should strike us as pretty outrageous. That members of God’s obstinate, broken creation could be drawn into friendship with the Creator and Redeemer of the universe is extraordinary. And yet this is what God offers us. We are welcomed into the deepest fellowship and friendship of the Trinity. Jesus invites us in and wants to live in us. If this notion weren’t so familiar to Christians, we might respond more often with grateful astonishment."
Secondly, I am so glad to have Greg here with me. Leona Kloster was right, sabbatical is a time for holding hands.
Thirdly, I am deeply grateful for the love and support of our great kids, our families, our friends, and our faith family at Neland.
Finally, I'm thankful for the opportunities I've had in the last two weeks to meet new people and see new places. I failed to mention that I had dinner with Eliot Vander Lugt at a wonderful Thai place in SF and also had my friend Karen Norris come visit for a few days. My cup of gratitude overflows.
I've also been praying for those I love and care about for whom these days of family gatherings mingle joy with pain due to the absence of dear loved ones. May the warmth of God's embrace be a balm to their grief. And may all your Thanksgiving gatherings be a taste of God's abundant and hospitable love.
With love and gratitude.
Ruth and Greg

PS. Oh yeah, and I'm thankful for the beauty all around us.

Take This Bread

Greg and I worshipped this morning at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church. It was a unique blessing. The service began standing around the Lord's Table with singing. The strong vocal leadership of the choir helped those of us less familiar with the liturgy and songs to join in. We then moved to a part of the sanctuary where we were seated in rows of chairs facing one another to hear God's Word read and proclaimed. It took some getting used to following along with what is often more chanting that singing, but it was beautiful nonetheless. After the service, there was tasty food to be enjoyed as worshippers mingled and quietly and warmly delighted in the unique worship space. Greg and I had the privilege of meeting Sarah Miles, author of the book, Take This Bread, and more recently, Jesus Freak. We also met Juan Alejo, a seminary student who is one year from becoming a Catholic priest. He is from Mexico and has hopes of serving a bilingual church in San Francisco. Meredith Holladay is a young women we met from Waco Texas. She is a graduate of Princeton Theological Seminary, just finished a PhD, and is doing some teaching at Baylor University. She is hoping to serve a church in her denomination which is, interestingly, baptist and in an alliance with other baptist churches that formed in separation from the Southern Baptists.
We felt very welcomed this morning and thankful for the people God placed in our path. Both Greg and I are full of gratitude today for the gift of sabbatical.

Friendship, mission, and hope

Friendship At The Margins, a book I've found to be good sabbatical reading, brings both scholarly/biblical theory and practical/on the ground experience together under the conviction that at the heart of the church's mission is friendship. Jesus called his disciples friends. This reflects a relationship built on love and respect. It honors the image of God in the other. Hueutz and Pohl believe this idea is central to the missional work of the church.

Here's another good quote, "Locating friendship at the heart of mission involves certain assumptions—that reconciliation with God is something for which every human being is made and that relationships are reciprocal. Mission, then, is less about our efforts to help or evangelize “them,” and more about how we can live into the kingdom together. Friendship puts the focus on relationships and offers an alternative to models of mission that are more formal, professional or bureaucratic."

It seems to me friendship is fertile soil for growing hope. It is in the hard work of opening our lives to others, with the expectation that we ourselves will grow and learn from them, that Kingdom friendships are born and hope has a place to spring up.

I'm again attaching a few pictures because you may find them more interesting than my musings. One was taken of me by Mary, a new friend in the library here. The others were taken on the seminary grounds.