The Wesley Foundation at UVA

God Will Wipe Away Every Tear

Revelation 7: 9-17

It’s popular to say “I’m no saint” when we’re about to choose something we think we ought not to or when we don’t want to hear what anyone else has to say about what we’re doing. “I’m no saint” effectively means, “Don’t look to me for answers. I don’t have it all together and I didn’t sign up to be anyone’s role model. I’m not here to be perfect.” Well, John Wesley’s ideas on “moving on to perfection” aside, being a saint isn’t about perfection. It’s not about spotless living or what the Roman Catholic Church has to say about you after you’ve died.

All Saints Day is a celebration of all Christians in every time and place, and uses “saint” in the New Testament sense, to refer to all Christians. It’s a celebration of the solidarity of the living and the dead, understanding that there are already times – like our Supper at this table – when our voices and spirits join the closer harmonies of heaven. The blessing of this annual Feast Day of All Saints is that it gives us a yearly moment to pause and remember and give thanks and draw inspiration from all the saints who have traveled with us this far.

It’s a blessing too broad to measure, the gift of saints.

My life has been full of saints. Tonight I want to remember just one of them to you. Later on in our worship we’ll light candles in memory or honor of the saints in our lives and I hope you will share with us how you have been blessed by the saints in your life.

My dad’s dad, Granddaddy Lewis, never told us when he dropped out of school. He was one of 10 children from a farm family and at some point before high school he dropped out to farm and help the family full time. Granddaddy was a smart man but ashamed enough of his level of education that he wouldn’t tell us how far he went. My granddad was the one who taught me how to lick an ice cream cone so that it didn’t melt and drip all over my hand before I got to enjoy it. He was the one who took me and my brother on a grand tour of all the monuments and sights in Washington, D.C. one spring break in elementary school, joking in line at the Washington Monument that maybe I’d better not take a picture of the White House from there because in my photo I might get Jimmy Carter looking out from one of the windows. He was the one who used to let me, my brother, and our cousins practice driving his pick-up truck on an old dirt road in the country – when we were barely teenagers.

One of my favorite stories he used to tell is from his own childhood. His grandfather (David Graves George) was the man who wrote the folk ballad “The Wreck of the Old 97.” This grandfather worked on the trains and once got caught between two trains, damaging his hip and forcing him to walk with a pronounced limp, one leg shorter than the other and with a thick-soled shoe on that foot. Well, my grandfather had a definite mischievous side and one day at his grandparents’ house he decided to take all the shoe tacks from his grandfather’s cobbler’s bench and nail them into the bench itself. Whenever I asked my granddad about this and how old he was when it happened he would say, “Old enough to know better.” As the story goes, when his grandfather saw what he’d done to the cobbler’s bench he started to chase after him, running with his pronounced limp. There they were, my sprightly young, mischievous granddad running away from sure punishment at the hands of his angry, limping grandfather. They were running in circles around the house and his grandmother was watching this with worry. As they came around again, my granddad beginning to edge further away from his struggling grandfather, his grandmother encouraged him to take another lap or two to gain a greater lead. Then she had him run inside where she had time to hide him under the clothes in the clothes hamper before his grandfather could see and long enough for his grandfather to cool down before meting out the punishment.

When Granddaddy told us stories like this one, his eyes would twinkle with delight and mischief, even when he was quite old and could no longer see. This twinkle and his charm won him friends among the nurses and orderlies in the hospital unit where he lived during the last few months of his life. His body was giving up on him but he received every visitor to his room as a gift and an occasion for hospitality and conversation.

When I moved to Atlanta for seminary, my granddad – a lifelong Red Sox fan – abruptly changed his allegiance to the Atlanta Braves. He had some misgivings about me moving so far away and to such a big city and it was his way of connecting with where I was and supporting what I was doing. A few years later when I had my baseball conversion experience and became a Braves fan myself, Granddaddy and I would watch games together and talk about the players. But for a long time I had no idea that he’d chosen that team for me, that when we was cheering for the Braves he was also cheering me on.

There is so much I could say about him and how his life – his Christian sainthood – blessed my own life. But one of the most striking is something my dad told me after my grandfather had died. My granddad often worked on big construction projects, especially on building dams. At one point, when my own father was only about nine years old, my grandfather had the opportunity to take a well-paying job on a dam in California. He didn’t take the job. His reasoning is what catches my attention in such a striking way. In discussing it with my grandmother he said, “If we go out there then our children will grow up out there. And that will be their home and some day when we come back here they’ll be grown and have families and they’ll stay out there, and we won’t get to see our children and our grandchildren.”

I was struck by how connected he was to a family that did not even entirely exist yet. I was struck by how thorough and thoughtful his considerations of moving were and by how much his deepest values informed his decision. As the story was told to me, he didn’t talk about God or wonder how Christ would have made the decision. But in a most Christian way, he understood who he was, what his life meant, and where his deepest calling lay. As a living saint who understood at a profound level his connection and relationships to other people – present and future – he made a simple decision that, among many other things, brought me to this place with you today.

This is what a saint looks like. I have known others and I have a hunch that you have seen a few in your own life. They may have already passed on or they may be present here and now in this room. They may be older and wiser or a brand new person in your life. God works through us all, in ways we recognize and in many ways we don’t see until we’ve gained another perspective further along the journey.

Sometimes we need a vision to see more clearly what is all around us.

Revelation offers us such a glimpse. “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb…They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heart; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Revelation 7: 14, 16-17).

It’s a promise of what is to come beyond this life and it’s already begun to take shape here and now in the community of saints. God’s reign has already begun and it is yet to come in its fullness. It’s here in this Body of Christ that we practice it, that we help God bring it about, that we demonstrate in the midst of an imperfect world the sanctifying perfection of life in God.

You may be “no saint” but watch who you say that to around here. Look around at these gifts from God. Look around and give thanks for these fellow pilgrims. Remember who has shown you the way and who has received what you had to give. Remember the ones, like our friend Don Hemmer, who have died this year.

Sometimes blinking through tears of sorrow and sometimes tears of joy, we gather around this table to the feast Christ prepares for us. We gather in a circle, and in circle beyond circle all the saints gather with us, pressing in shoulder to shoulder in that great cloud of witnesses. And as we feast God wipes away every tear and welcomes us home.

Thanks be to God!

© 2008 Deborah E. Lewis

Hi Everyone,

Family Weekend Dinner went great last Saturday. It was wonderful meeting some of your parents and having dinner with them.  We have a fun week full of activities coming up, if you haven’t come by a Wesley event, now is a great time, all are welcome.

Flag Football IM continues this week.  Meet at the Foundation at 7:30 on Monday and wear pants/shorts without pockets.

Round 3 of our Comparative Religion 101 Forum series commences with Professor Sachedina discussing Islam 101.  He is one of the most inspiring and well-spoken professors I’ve had the good fortune of meeting while at UVA.  This Forum should prove very enlightening and I highly recommend you make an effort to make it.  Thursday at 7 after dinner.

On Halloween we’re going to host a Murder Mystery Party at 6pm (dinner included).  Contact Becca (rjw5x@virginia.edu) for more info or to RSVP.

Here’s what we’ve got going on this week:

Sunday

6pm                  Informal Sunday Night Worship at the Foundation

Monday

6:30pm             Restless Hearts devotional study led by Deborah

7:30pm             Meet for Flag Football.  Wear pocketless pants.  Game is at 8 at the fields.

Tuesday

12:30pm            Lunch at the Pav - an informal, social lunch in the back room of the Pavilion in Newcomb.  Bring your PlusDollars or bag lunch.  Look for the tables pushed together.

8pm                  Faces of Faith first-year small group.  Meet at the Foundation.  

Wednesday

5pm                  Yoga class in Foundation living room.  Mats are provided or you can bring your own if you have one.  Wear loose fitting clothes.

Thursday

6pm                  Free Thursday Night Dinner in the dining room

7pm                  Forum - Islam 101 with Professor Sachedina 

Friday

6pm                  Halloween Murder Mystery Party

Saturday

10-11:30am       Homecoming Open House at the Foundation – Come by before the game to meet some of our alumni and enjoy a few snack!

Feel free to contact me with any questions or issues. 

I hope to see you some time this week.  Happy Halloween!

- David Lessard (dal5r)

  Wesley Foundation President

In God’s Time

Psalm 90

We’re coming close to the end of the Christian year now, when the current year goes out in a brilliant blaze with Reign of Christ (or Christ the King) Sunday and the new year begins in darkness with a lone Advent candle to light our way.

It seems as good a time as any for Psalm 90…God, you have been our dwelling place for generations…A thousand years in your sight are like yesterday… a dream… While we struggle all our days and then our years come to an end with a sigh…Help us to count these painful blessed days, to develop wise hearts…Give us what we need in the morning, give us as many glad days as hard days, Give us vision to see your work and bless our work that we may strive for the same thing.

A sweep of a poem and a prayer, asking God for help in the struggle that occupies our days and asking for some sense to it all before we are extinguished like a sigh. It’s a great psalm for this time of year.

But what an odd thing our lectionary does, offering only verses 1-6 and skipping to the end for verses 13-17. We read the whole psalm this morning but the lectionary reading left out the middle verses, 7-12. Lectionary readings often carve away sections of text or verses of a psalm and I am not always sure what the reasoning is behind the selective readings, but sometimes the hardest, grittiest, most heartfelt and sincere parts get clipped out. Psalms are notorious and glorious in their insistence on bringing all of life before God. Nothing hidden, nothing held back. The soul laid bare before God, warts and all.

So how odd that our lectionary cuts out all the “good parts” from Psalm 90. I tend to think that any time we pull out a favorite line of scripture with complete disregard for its context, we are missing the point, or at least part of the point. Reading only the first few verses and then the last few makes Psalm 90 may make it more “palatable.” Read that way the psalm basically proclaims that God is eternal, powerful, has been with us a long time, and then makes a plea for God to make our work prosper. Palatable but problematic.

Where is the longing for sense in the midst of senselessness? Where is the railing against death? Where is the grappling with the pain of life and the meanness of some of our days? Where is the recognition of how short and tiny our lives are and how desperately we want them to mean something beyond our short life spans? Where is the contrite heart asking God to teach it wisdom?

Maybe not so palatable after all.

Psalm 90 is often used in funerals and memorials and it is fitting that we come across it in our readings this Sunday before All Saints Day and this week in our congregational life as we mourn and give thanks for the life of John Hilker. Praying Psalm 90 at a death makes more sense than the chopped up lectionary reading. What an appropriate time to pause and ask how it is that things happen as they do. What a fitting place to wonder about the fleetingness of our lives and to give thanks that this life is not the whole story.

But I think we also miss part of the point if we hold Psalm 90 in reserve and bring it out only for funerals.

Two of the most interesting and strangely humorous verses are some that were left out of the lectionary today. Verses 9 and 10 read: “For all our days pass away under your wrath; our years come to an end like a sigh. The days of our life are seventy years, or perhaps eighty, if we are strong; even then their span is only toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away.” A rough paraphrase might be: This is hard and full of grief – and we only get to live it for 80 years. Please give us more!

Why would we want to flatten this plea? Why would we want a thinner prayer? There is a fullness to this psalm as it struggles with and resists life’s trials, as it questions God for answers to what seems senseless, and as it shifts perspective towards the end.

Psalm 90 is the only psalm in the Psalter attributed to Moses. While it’s unlikely that Moses wrote it, there are good reasons to hear it as “an imagined prayer of Moses” (The New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. IV, p. 1041). Right before it, Psalm 89 closes with aching questions: “How long, O Lord? Will you hide yourself forever? How long will your wrath burn like fire?…Who can live and never see death? Who can escape the power of Sheol?” (Psalm 89: 47, 48, 49). Psalm 90 is the first psalm of Book IV of the Psalter, following Book III’s long lament over the destruction of Jerusalem, including Psalm 89’s “announcement of God’s rejection of the covenant with David” (NIB Commentary, p.1040). Psalm 90 comes right after this, claiming Mosaic authorship.

What would it mean in that context – or in ours – to harken back to Moses’ time? Moses’ story all takes place when God’s people had no land or Temple, a time not so dissimilar from the exile at the end of Psalm 89. Moses and the Israelites had to rely on God for everything while wandering 40 years in the desert, eating manna and drinking water gushing improbably from dry rocks.

One of the most striking parts of Moses’ story is that he never reaches the promised land. After all those years, all that struggle with the wayward people, all that faithfulness, and all those trips up the mountain to have a conversation with God, Moses dies in the wilderness. God takes him up Mount Pisgah for a good look around, letting Moses drink in the view across the Jordan, but that’s all he gets.

We are told that it’s because God was “angry” with Moses. The word “angry” in that part of the story is from the same Hebrew root as “wrath” in verses 9 and 11 of today’s psalm: “For all our days pass away under your wrath; our years come to an end like a sigh…Who considers the power of your anger? Your wrath is as great as the fear that is due you.”

We might begin to see how Moses stands in for Israel’s experience and, more broadly, for human experience. One commentary puts it this way, “We always come up short, in terms of time, intentions, and accomplishments. What initially seems like a depressing message, however, is actually an encouraging one. If the great Moses came up short, then perhaps it is not such a disaster that we do too. Moses’ death was a reminder that God, not Moses, would lead the people into the land. Our time, therefore, is not all there is to measure. God’s time is primary…our time must be measured finally in terms of God’s time” (NIB Commentary, p. 1041).

Time is an odd constant, isn’t it? It’s family weekend here at UVA, a good reminder of how quickly times passes. For those of you visiting your student, you may have experienced some pinching-yourself moments since your son or daughter went off to school. That little baby who used to fit into the crook of your arm is in college but it seems like those crook-of-the-arm days were just last year. Students, you may feel time speeding up with each year you’re here, until suddenly you’re a fourth year looking for a job. Transitions remind us of how transitory our lives really are… going to or graduating from college, the death of someone beloved, the birth of a child, the beginning or ending of an important relationship…transitions remind us that, like Moses, we are not really in charge of this story and that God does not measure time like we do.

Some times, some days, some transitions are easier to live through. Even joyful. But even then we sometimes struggle: Why can’t this day last? Why does this time feel so short while the hard times feel so long?

Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, so that we may rejoice and be glad all our days…(v.14).

Remember how Moses and the Israelites ate in the wilderness? God sent just enough manna for that day, each and every day. Except for the day before the Sabbath, they were to gather only what they needed that day, not to stock up for later. God would give them what was needed for another day another day.

That’s the discipline of a lifetime. Being present to the day at hand and thankful for what is given. Living day by day, expecting God each day and giving thanks for the gifts of that day. Cultivating this sort of daily thankfulness and trust is the practice of our lives. As the psalmist says, “Teach us to count our days that we may gain a wise heart” (v. 12).

However many days I have, whatever they may contain, and wherever you take me, God, thank you for the days and for the gift of your presence. Thank you for all that you have done before me and for what will come when my story is over. Thank you for what you do with me and without me.

Psalm 90 is a potent combination of fear, desire, need, grief, love, faith, and hope. We don’t get anywhere by cutting out the fear and grief. We don’t get more love or faith or hope, a fuller life, or closer to God. We get somewhere in our spiritual practice, in our love of God, in making sense of life, and in trusting God’s promises when we practice being thankful. When we commit ourselves to the practice it becomes our primary orientation in life – being thankful for the gift of life and the many gifts it contains.

The poet Jane Kenyon died young and struggled for a long while with leukemia before her body finally gave up. She and her husband the poet Donald Hall both wrote prolifically about the journey. One of my favorite of her poems is called “Otherwise” (Otherwise, Jane Kenyon, p. 214).

It sounds like someone who has read Psalm 90. It sounds like someone who knows that dying is not as bad a death as being estranged from God and missing the point. It sounds like someone who lives day by day…..

“Otherwise”

I got out of bed

on two strong legs.

It might have been

otherwise. I ate

cereal, sweet

milk, ripe, flawless

peach. It might

have been otherwise.

I took the dog uphill

to the birch wood.

All morning I did

the work I love.

At noon I lay down

with my mate. It might

have been otherwise.

We ate dinner together

at a table with silver

candlesticks. It might

have been otherwise.

I slept in a bed

in a room with paintings

on the walls, and

planned another day

just like this day.

But one day, I know,

it will be otherwise.

As Psalm 90 follows 89, Kenyon’s poem “Notes from the Other Side” (p. 215) follows “Otherwise” and it is the final poem of the collection. She imagines what it is to be freed from our limited grasp on time. She imagines where her life ends and where God’s promise will take her:

“Notes from the Other Side”

I divested myself of despair

and fear when I came here.

Now there is no more catching

one’s own eye in the mirror,

there are no bad books, no plastic,

no insurance premiums, and of course

no illness. Contrition

does not exist, nor gnashing

of teeth. No one howls as the first

clod of earth hits the casket.

The poor we no longer have with us.

Our calm hearts strike only the hour,

and God, as promised, proves

to be mercy clothed in light.

Thanks be to God!

© 2008 Deborah E. Lewis

The Alumni Relations committee is inviting all alumni, current students, and board members to a Wesley Foundation Open House on Homecoming (Saturday, November 1). Come on by between 10-11:30am that morning, before Kickoff at noon.

The Open House is a time to see each other, meet students, board members, and re-connect with alumni. Snacks and drinks will be provided and you’ll have time to take a tour through the building.

Parking and traffic are real challenges on football Saturdays, and there’s no great way around this. Frankly, the best way to overcome this is to come early, and get in one of the UVa parking garages. (The church parking lot is not an option as they sell those spots to tailgaters, and police block off side streets like Lewis Mtn. Rd. and Thomson Rd. to all but residents.) Anyway… it’s more time-consuming than usual to get there, but obviously it can be done. Carpooling would be a good idea as well.

Dan Moriarty (DMoriarty AT explorelearning.com)

Chair, Alumni Relations Committee

Whether you have family coming to town this weekend or not, it’s a great weekend for a visit to Wesley!

On Saturday we are hosting our family dinner at 6pm in the dining room at the Wesley Foundation.  The cost is $15 per person and this is a fundraiser for our spring break mission trip to the United Methodist Relief Center in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina.

We also need volunteers to prepare and serve the meal.  It’s a great time cooking and serving and hanging out – contact Helen Ross to volunteer (hrr2v).

Sunday after the 11am worship service at Wesley Memorial the church is hosting a lunch for students.  Come with or without your family and enjoy the home cooked meal provided by the congregation.

Come introduce your family to our Wesley family or just spend some time with us this weekend yourself!

Hi Everyone,

Go Hoos!  That was a nail-biter football game last Saturday, I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did.  We have a fun week full of activities coming up, if you haven’t come by a Wesley event, now is a great time, all are welcome.

Flag Football IM starts this week.  Meet at the Foundation at 7:30 on Monday and wear pants/shorts without pockets.

Round 2 of our Comparative Religion 101 Forum series commences with Deborah talking about United Methodism really is and how it differs from other denominations. Thursday at 7 after dinner.

Restless Hearts devotional study has changed times to 6:30 on Monday to accommodate Flag Football.

Family Weekend Dinner is this…weekend.  Saturday at 6:00pm in the Dining Room.  Bring your parents or come help serve!  It’s a fundraiser for the Spring Break mission trip. Let Helen know if you want to come eat or help out (hrr2v@virginia.edu).

Here’s what we’ve got going on this week:

Sunday
6pm Informal Sunday Night Worship at the Foundation

Monday
6:30pm Restless Hearts devotional study led by Deborah
7:30pm Meet for Flag Football.  Wear pocketless pants.  Game is at 8 at the fields.

Tuesday
12:30pm Lunch at the Pav - an informal, social lunch in the back room of the Pavilion in Newcomb.  Bring your PlusDollars or bag lunch.  Look for the tables pushed together.
8pm Faces of Faith first-year small group.  Meet at the Foundation.

Wednesday
5pm Yoga class in Foundation living room.  Mats are provided or you can bring your own if you have one.  Wear loose fitting clothes.

Thursday
6pm Free Thursday Night Dinner in the dining room
7pm Forum - United Methodism 101 with Deboarh

Saturday
6pm Family Weekend Dinner.  Come show your folks the Foundation!

Feel free to contact me with any questions or issues.

I hope to see you some time this week.  16-13, woohoo!

- David Lessard (dal5r)
Wesley Foundation President

The Things That Are God’s

Matthew 22: 15-22

Jesus would have been a horrible presidential candidate.  Don’t get me wrong:  I love him – and I hope you do, too.  He has a great platform.  How can you top the kingdom of God?  But he would have been a horrible candidate.

Today’s candidates seem to cultivate the skill of staying “on message.”  Sarah Palin famously announced, one or two questions into her debate with Joe Biden this fall, that she wasn’t too concerned about answering the questions the moderator asked because she had certain things she wanted to say.  If you watched the final presidential debate last Wednesday (or any of the others) you saw both McCain and Obama practicing less obvious forms of the Palin pronouncement.

It seems that no matter the question, the topic, the mood in the room, or the spiraling, out-of-control state of the economy, today’s candidates have a script and they are sticking to it.  It gets so tedious and ridiculous that I fantasize that if Jesus himself walked in at the middle of the debate and said, “I have something you haven’t thought of and it could solve the health care issue,” both candidates would say – talking over top of each other – “That’s a nice idea, Jesus, but have you heard about my plan?”  I could go off on the whole debate scenario here, about how there is really nothing debate-like about the debates and how they are not much more than nationally-televised 90-minute soap-boxes.  The only part that resembles a debate is that they take turns talking – when they aren’t taking turns interrupting one another.

But I’ll refrain from (further) ranting.

I’m afraid that most political dialogue in our country resembles the debates.  Whether it’s a conversation, an article, a panel discussion, or chatting at a bus stop, we tend to go into political conversations ready to talk and refusing to listen.  And what is there to listen to anyway, if the other person is poised as we are to do all the talking?

If the topic of abortion comes up and two people on opposite sides of the issue want to talk about it, there is not usually much to talk about.  At the most basic level, the one who’s pro-life is not ready to accept that there may be more than one way to practice being pro-life or that the period between conception and birth could be categorized as anything other than life.  At the most basic level, the one who’s pro-choice is not ready to accept the same definition or starting point for life or that anything or anyone else could trump a woman’s choices about her pregnancy.

I said, “at the most basic level” but that is not even true.  At the most basic level there are not only two, opposite sides.  At the most basic level, there are questions about authority and care for children and health and the ethics of decision-making, and how we receive and respond to the many gifts of life.  At the most basic level, we are humans trying to make good choices about tough, complex, real-life scenarios.  So why do we settle for the paucity of vision and integrity involved in a “two sides” issue?  Why do we pitch our tents with the pro-choicers or the pro-lifers and never look back?  What about “option C” (Jan Richardson, http://paintedprayerbook.com/)?

Jesus loved option C.  It’s why he would have made a horrible presidential candidate.  The Pharisees ask him about paying taxes to the emperor (Mt. 22: 17).  Is it lawful?  It’s a simple “yes” or “no” question.  A or B.  Lawful or not.

But Jesus refuses the initial premise of the question.  He reframes it and goes for option C.  He says, It’s not about paying taxes or not, it’s about knowing where your allegiances lie.

He asks his questioners whose image is on the coin used to pay the tax and they respond that it’s an image of the emperor.  What Matthew (and Mark and Luke) record him saying is, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God the things that are God’s” (vv. 19-21).

When you are looking for A or B, yes or no, and you get C, it can be maddening, humiliating, thwarting, frustrating….or it can be enlightening and life-giving.  It can be life-transforming.  What would option C look like on the issue of abortion or health care or the war in Iraq and Afghanistan or the economy?  What would it look like in your own life?

Ernie and Joey got me to squirm last week when we played “stand for what you believe” during forum.  They posed tough choices like “Is war ever okay or never okay?” and then asked us to stand on one side of the room or the other.  A or B.  Nothing in the middle.  I tried hard to comply – really!  But there were about 3 questions when I just absolutely could not take one side or the other.  I could not agree with enough of one position or the other to stand solidly on that side.  Or I could not agree with the initial premise of the question enough to agree that the two sides presented were adequate or mutually exclusive.

That made it hard to play the game.  But – without elevating my poor gamesmanship to the level of good discipleship – isn’t that what Jesus does when they ask him about the taxes?  It is a question meant to entrap him:  either you choose the emperor and deny God or you choose God and incur the penalty for unlawfulness.  Jesus avoids the trap and somehow manages to answer the question while also going beyond it (New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. VIII, p. 420).  His answer enables and condones paying taxes but it also renders the question moot.  If I give to God the things that are God’s, isn’t that everything?

We trap ourselves when we settle for this being a primer on paying taxes.  Yes, the Pharisees and Herodians pose a question about taxes, but what they are really interested in is laying a trap for Jesus.  They are annoyed by now with his sneaky parables and upstart ways and they attempt to get him to say or do something for which they can rally the crowds to execute him.  For them, the question is a trap, with taxes as the bait.  Jesus sees this but he also has his own point to get across.  For Jesus, it’s not about the taxes.  It’s not even about the emperor.  It’s about God.

I had a great theological discussion with Annie this week.  If anyone is hankering for some good God-talk, she’s your woman.  I highly recommend doing some theology with her.  In the middle of our conversation she told me that, during a long and very stressful struggle to settle some decisions, she had an epiphany when she realized, “It’s not about me; it’s about God.”  What a freeing and transformative moment!

It’s not about the taxes or the emperor and it’s not even about you or me.  It’s about God!  It’s interesting to me that I most often hear only half of this answer that Jesus gives.  Maybe that’s how you’ve heard it, too.  What I usually hear is, harkening back to older translations, “Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s.”  That’s usually it.  Just half.  As Woody said we when we were discussing it this week, “‘Render unto Caesar’ is just the throw-away line.”  Exactly.  What about the “rendering unto God” part?

We aren’t so unlike the Pharisees and Herodians sometimes.  We look to the Bible for guidance and answers but sometimes what we really want is a loophole.  Sometimes we’re looking for something to bolster the status quo, something to sanction what we plan to do anyway, something that seems right but that’s really only half an answer.  Or half a life.

We settle for “give to the emperor” and leave God out of it altogether.  We want this to be a story about civic duty.  We want this to bolster either the Obama or McCain tax plan.  We don’t want this to mean more work for us, more discipleship.  We want a one-size-fits-all solution with no wiggle room or ambiguity or nuance.  Thank God we don’t always get what we want.

All those “wants” have to do with us and what would work well in our lives.  But notice that Jesus doesn’t say, When you’re faced with a tough question about civic duty and religion here’s how you sort out your own thoughts and feelings on the matter.  All he says is, Who does this belong to?

Well that makes it simpler and more complex at the same time, doesn’t it?  Who do you belong to?  Whose Body is this?  Whose are all those October-Song-singing trees outside?  Give to God the things that are God’s…It all belongs to God and that simplifies our allegiances and makes more complex how we might behave in a given situation.

We might be pro-life Democrats or anti-war Republicans.  We might redefine terms like “pro-life” and “anti-war.”  We might refuse to accept the contrived “two sides” of our current political climate.  We don’t accept that paying taxes means our highest loyalty is to the state.  We recognize that in every moment of every day we are God’s blessed children and that our whole lives and all that is in them belongs to God.

Annie’s right.  It’s not about us; it’s about God.  What a freeing and transformative realization!   Now, what are you going to do about it?

Thanks be to God!

© 2008 Deborah E. Lewis

Hi Everyone,

Greetings from the Windy City! I hope you are all enjoying Fall Break, I know I am.

If you haven’t come by a Wesley event, now is a great time, all are welcome.

Faces of Faith, the small group for first years will be still meeting at the Foundation on Tuesday at 8 this week. This week will be more fellowship than anything else, but Melissa has something planned. If you didn’t come the past few weeks and want to this week, I would like to encourage you to come. Contact Melissa (mlh9j@virginia.edu) if you want a ride.

The will be NO WORSHIP THIS WEEK due to Fall Break. Also, NO RESTLESS HEARTS and NO LUNCH AT THE PAV.

Our next IM Sport is Flag Football, which will start next week. More info to follow.

We kick off our Comparative Religion 101 series this semester with a Forum on the basics of Judaism, with Professor Ochs coming to speak. It should prove to be an excellent Forum, make sure to stop by for dinner and the discussion on Thursday.

There’s also this from Lauren and the Witness team: Saturday, 10/18 - Service Retreat part 2! - We’re heading over to Camp Holiday Trails to help them clean up their trails a little bit. Camp Holiday Trails is a camp that seeks to give disabled children a normal camp experience. They’ll give us a short introduction and some instructions. It should be a ton of fun; breakfast will be included. Meet at the Foundation at 8:30 am. We should be done by 11. Again, if you’re interested in helping, let Lauren know as soon as possible (ltg6s).

Here’s what we’ve got going on this week:

Sunday
NO EVENTS

Monday
NO EVENTS

Tuesday
8pm Faces of Faith first-year small group. Meet at the Foundation.

Wednesday
5pm Yoga class in Foundation living room. Mats are provided or you can bring your own if you have one. Wear loose fitting clothes.

Thursday
6pm Free Thursday Night Dinner in the dining room
7pm Forum - Judaism 101 with visiting Judaism Professor Ochs

Saturday
8:30am Meet at the Foundation for Camp Holiday Trails service event. (See above)

Feel free to contact me with any questions or issues.

I hope to see you some time this week. Happy Fall Break!

- David Lessard (dal5r)
Wesley Foundation President

Hi Everyone,

Thanks to everyone for all the prayers this weekend!  The GREs went really well.

If you haven’t come by a Wesley event, now is a great time, all are welcome.

Faces of Faith, the small group for first years will be meeting at the Foundation on Tuesday at 8 this week.  If you didn’t come the past few weeks but want to this week, I would like to encourage you to come.  Contact me or Melissa (mlh9j) if you want a ride.

Starting for the first time this week is a small group study led by Deborah (deborah AT wesleyuva.org) called Restless Hearts.  It’s about finding your way by listening to God’s call and well worth a look. Monday night at 7.

Wesley Memorial Church is also hosting a dinner and speaker on faith and politics on Tuesday at 6.  Details are below the weekly schedule.

With Fall Break coming up we don’t have any scheduled events (yet…).

Here’s what we’ve got going on this week:

Monday

7pm                 Restless Hearts devotional study led by Deborah Lewis

Tuesday

12:15pm           Lunch at the Pav - an informal, social lunch in the back room of the Pavilion in Newcomb.  Bring your PlusDollars or bag lunch.  Look for the tables pushed together.

6pm                 Faith and Politics Dinner and Speaker Series at Wesley Mem Church (see details below)

8pm                 Faces of Faith first-year small group.  Meet at the Foundation.

Wednesday

5pm                 Free, drop-in Yoga class in Foundation living room.  Mats are provided or you can bring your own if you have one.  Wear loose fitting clothes.

Thursday

6pm                 Free Thursday Night Dinner in the dining room

7pm                 Forum - Faith and Politics with Ernie and Joey

Feel free to contact me with any questions or issues.

I hope to see you some time this week.  Happy Almost-Fall-Break!

- David Lessard (dal5r)

Wesley Foundation President

 *   *   *

October Song

Psalm 19

One of my favorite places I have ever camped or backpacked is in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  Once you make your way through the strip malls and tourist traps and theme parks of Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg the most beautiful unspoiled land is all around you.

To be honest, there are still a lot of cars around you at that point, too.  But if you get out and lace up your hiking boots and take a walk in the woods it is exquisite.  Over the years I have had a lot of backcountry adventures in the Smokies with my hiking pals.  There were the bear-like noises in the dark, the wild boar, the torrential downpour that sent us wilted and wet to a nearby motel, the snowstorm that kept us huddled in the tent eating M&Ms all night “to keep warm”…

One of the best nights out in the backcountry was not particularly notable in most ways.  Now, I don’t even remember who else was on the trip.  What I remember was the creek.  About 4 or 5 miles in we stopped for the night at a creek-side backcountry site and all night long I listened to the comforting babble of the water gurgling over rocks and past the banks a few yards from my tent.

I think it was some time after that that I ran across a quote by the Trappist monk and writer Thomas Merton.  Something about it reminded me of that night by the creek and also of many other nights spent listening in the woods or days spent in the falling snow among the trees or napping while it rains – especially under a tin roof.

Here’s what Merton wrote (“Rain and the Rhinoceros,” in Raids on the Unspeakable):

What a thing it is to sit absolutely alone, in the forest, at night, cherished by this wonderful, unintelligible, perfectly innocent speech, the most comforting speech in the world, the talk that rain makes by itself all over the ridges, and the talk of the watercourses everywhere in the hollows!  Nobody started it, nobody is going to stop it.  It will talk as long as it wants, this rain.  As long as it talks I am going to listen.

…I ended up transcribing Merton’s quote into my hiking journal, the one I keep in my backpack and write in only when I’m out camping or hiking.  When I’m up early in the morning with camp coffee or snuggled in my sleeping bag at night with the flashlight on in my tent, I pull out the journal to give thanks for where I am and what I’ve seen and who I’m with.  Every time I open it I see this Merton quote and, together with the experience of being back out in the wider creation again, I gain a little perspective.  I am reminded of how small I really am and of what a good thing that is.  I am reminded that I have a place in the vastness of God’s created order and that I’m – we’re – not the only ones talking about it and praising God for it.

What a thing it is to sit absolutely alone, in the forest, at night, cherished by this wonderful, unintelligible, perfectly innocent speech, the most comforting speech in the world, the talk that rain makes by itself all over the ridges, and the talk of the watercourses everywhere in the hollows!…The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims [God’s] handiwork.  Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge.  There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world (Psalm 19: 1-4a).

            We are in my favorite month now.  October.  I don’t know when it became my favorite but I remember clearly when I realized it had its own song.  I was living in Lee County, Virginia, way over in the very southwestern tip of our state.  For a few years between college and seminary I worked for the Appalachia Service Project and I lived in a little metal building on the side of a mountain with a view of Tennessee and the sound of my neighbor’s cows mooing up the hill behind us.  Though my dad grew up farming, this was the only time in my life I ever lived on property with its own barn.

I used to take walks there, down the hill and then up and down several more hills on the little country road where I lived.  I would walk about 2 miles to a church with two brilliant trees in its yard and over the course of my walks one fall I watched them turn yellow and red and drop vibrant carpets of leaves in the parking lot.

I love being out in the fall weather – the clearness of the air and the blue of the sky, the smell of cooling air, the feel of a slight chill creeping in towards November.  Walking to the church and back I used to pass a few tobacco leaves fallen onto the road from the heaps in pick-ups.  The sweet, unburnt smell of tobacco would mingle with the crisp freshness of the air and the sight of birds flying in lazy spirals on up-currents of air.

Ever since that time I’ve waited each year for October’s song.  For some reason it is the time of year when I can most clearly hear the talk of the rain and the watercourses, when it is evident to me that day to day pours forth speech.  Maybe you’ve heard it, too…

There is a reason many of us feel a special closeness with God when we are “communing with nature.”  God who redeems each of us (v. 14) is the same God who created and continues to create, the One who provides the warmth and energy of the sun (vv. 4-6) and who gives us Torah (vv.7-13) and lives with us in Christ.  God is the potter with hands covered in wet clay.  God is creating every day, as each day pours forth speech.  Like the psalmist, we may not recognize words or speech, but, if we commit ourselves to the practice of listening, we might, like Thomas Merton, feel cherished by what we hear.

In Hebrew adam means “human” and adama means “earth” or “ground” (The New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Vol. IV, p. 753).  A visual and auditory signal that we – all of God’s blessed creation – are family (NIB Commentary, p. 753).  We are made of the same stuff, as we remind ourselves on Ash Wednesday each year:  Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.  People, animals, trees, earth, sky, all that rain and all those days pouring forth speech.  Created, related, all speaking and singing songs of God.  The psalmist reminds us that the rest of creation praises God, too.  The rest of creation has its own speech and relation to God.

What does that mean?  Whether we camp out by a creek and sit in the hollows to listen to the rain, or whether we live life in cubicles and shut our windows to shut out the noises of crickets, what does it mean that all the rest of creation is singing psalms to God?  Whether we try to hear them or try not to, whether we ever think we understand the pouring-forth speech or not, what does it mean that it is there?

If a tree sings to God in a forest and there is no one there to hear or comprehend the song, does it make a sound?  And does God hear it?  And are we able to truly hear God if we don’t listen to the rest of the family?

What is clear from both Psalm 19 and the Pentateuch – the first 5 books of the Hebrew Scriptures or the Old Testament – is that creation comes first.  Just as the book of Genesis comes before the book of Exodus – creation before redemption – in Psalm 19, the created order comes before God’s gift of the Torah.  (NIB Commentary, p. 754)  “God whose sovereignty is proclaimed by cosmic voices is the God who has addressed a personal word to humankind – God’s Torah…which makes human life possible and orders it rightly” (NIB Commentary, p. 753).  We have a rightful place but it doesn’t start with us.  We aren’t the only ones in this family and we aren’t the only ones God is speaking to or whom God hears.

What are we going to do about that?  How do we cherish all of creation and join the song?

Today happens to be World Communion Sunday, begun in 1940 with the express purpose of gathering all Christian churches to celebrate Communion together on the same day.  At that time many Protestant churches celebrated Communion only a few times a year so this special Sunday was one set-aside time for everyone to have at least one Sunday Meal together.

Over the years as liturgies and worship patterns have changed, most Protestant churches celebrate more frequently.  At Wesley Memorial we celebrate on the first Sunday of each month and at the Wesley Foundation we celebrate each week during our Sunday Night Worship service.  As trends in worship have changed since 1940, so have some of the associations and meanings of this day set aside for World Communion.  Now many churches focus on our common mission throughout the world (www.gbod.org/worship).

This year at the Wesley Foundation we have begun praying through the Ecumenical Cycle of Prayer published by the World Council of Churches (http://www.oikoumene.org/?id=3038).  Each week of the year we pray for several countries of the world, moving through all the regions and countries over the course of the whole year.  It’s a way to remind ourselves that we are joined in prayer to our brothers and sisters in Christ throughout the world.  It’s also a way to keep our hearts and minds open to a bigger perspective than just what’s on our own plates or in the news this week.  It’s a good thing that we are listening for praise and prayer in all sorts of speech, as this week’s countries include the hard-to-pronounce nations of:  Afghanistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Mongolia, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan. 

Including these prayers in our weekly prayers has enriched our worship.  But what if today, this year, we were to get really ecumenical about it?  What if we took another look – or listen – and celebrated World Communion as our communion with all of creation?  What would that celebration look and sound like?  How do we sing this October song, harmonizing not just with other peoples but with other creatures and with all of creation?  The gospel of John proclaims that the reason for the incarnation of Christ is that “God so loved the world” (John 3: 16, emphasis mine).

We are called to love as God loves and to love what and who God loves.  It is a difficult call but it is ours.  How do we act like family with species we haven’t seen?  How do we listen for the pouring-forth speech of all of creation?  How do we understand our role as stewards and caretakers?  How do we act like family to a polar bear or a buttercup or a glacier or an oak tree or a rain drop?

Our country is voting in another few weeks and in between conversations about the economy you might hear politicians talking about “the environment.”  Psalm 19 challenges even that language.  “The environment” is not an adequate term for the other parts of our family created by God.  The term “environment” simply denotes the place where we find ourselves and what surrounds us in that place.  Is that an adequate description of our kinfolk, the heavens and firmament continually praising God (v.1)?  It may be acceptable language for a politician but is that language good enough for a Christian?

Our country and our world seem to be encountering so-called environmental problems we don’t know how to solve.  At the very least, we are grappling with problems whose solutions will call for sacrifice of one sort or another.  Since our allegiance is not to the Republicans or Democrats, but to Christ, perhaps changing our language is a start.  How would our hearts and minds and public policies change if we were to adopt St. Francis of Assisi’s language – “brother sun and sister moon”?  How might we conceive of the problems differently if we were to remind ourselves of where we stand, this holy ground proclaiming God’s glory?

How do we love the world as God does?  How do we cherish it and allow ourselves to be cherished by the rest of creation?  How do we sing a new song?

The thing about the way creation sings is that, if you listen, you can hear more than rain and trees.  Can you hear October’s song?  The voices are many and the speech comes in many languages and infusing it all is God’s Holy Spirit.  And God is singing along.  Listen…

The poet Jane Kenyon may have been hearing a song like this when she wrote the poem “Briefly it Enters, and Briefly Speaks” (Jane Kenyon, Collected Poems).  Hear both praise of God found in and from everyday details and the voice of God in those same details.  Listen:

I am the blossom pressed in a book,

found again after two hundred years… .

I am the maker, the lover, and the keeper… .

When the young girl who starves

sits down to a table

she will sit beside me… .

I am food on the prisoner’s plate… .

I am water rushing to the wellhead,

filling the pitcher until it spills… .

I am the patient gardener

of the dry and weedy garden… .

I am the stone step,

the latch, and the working hinge… .

I am the heart contracted by joy… .

the longest hair, white

before the rest… .

I am there in the basket of fruit

presented to the widow… .

I am the musk rose opening

unattended, the fern on the boggy summit… .

I am the one whose love

overcomes you, already with you

when you think to call my name… .

Thanks be to God!

© 2008 Deborah E. Lewis