Pastor Blog

July 12, 2007

Dear Friends,

As my time to depart closes in, I have been thinking about what the life and messages of Jesus are regarding the goodbyes in our lives.  One thing that stands out for me is that the Bible tells us he knew what it was like to go through those painful times.  He, too, had many moments when he felt pulled apart, knew the hurt of leaving behind, felt the emptiness that comes with loss.  Not even Jesus was spared the ache and struggle of letting go.

At about 30 years of age, his ministry began with a goodbye to the security of his home, his family, his friends, his work, and the people & places he spent his time of leisure and fun.  Despite what he was giving up, somewhere inside of him was a tug that said, “It’s time you move on.”  I believe that “tug” for Jesus was God—as it is for all of us at certain times throughout our lives.  And it certainly wouldn’t be his last goodbye.  His three short years of ministry took him to many new places and faces.  Yet, everywhere he went, he took with him all the gifts that others had given him.

Please know that my future ministry, wherever it takes me, will include all the gifts this church has given me.  First Congregational Church of Sharon will forever be a part of me and the ministry I bring to others because of all this congregation has done for me.

Sunday June 3^rd was a most memorable day for me.  I was touched by the honor given me in the farewell commendation.  I thank Pastor Condon and Rev. Dale Hempen, our UCC Conference Minister, for the gift of their participation and for making this part of the service so special.  I thank the choir for the gift of their wonderful and heartfelt anthem “How Beautiful the Feet of Those” and their benediction “Irish Farewell.”  I thank the deacons for their gifts of the Revere bowl with its beautiful and touching inscription “Seminarian, Pastor, Friend”… & for the unforgettable and appropriate step stool!  (I will never step upon it without thinking you & God are raising me up.)  I hold a special appreciation in my heart for Nancy Welch and her outstanding artwork…  the gorgeous bouquet of flowers and the corsage only added to the beauty of the service.  I thank the Christian Education Committee for the gift of their laughter & lightheartedness, and the generous gift certificate they so graciously presented to me after the service!

And I especially extend my gratitude to you—the parishioners of the FCC of Sharon.  You have given me many gifts during my time here.  The gift of accepting me into this church as I began my seminarian position.  The gift of calling me as Pastor to this church.  The gift of a wonderful Ordination service.  Gifts of your kindness, instruction, and mentoring as I ventured into the many areas of ministry, service, worship, baptisms, weddings and funerals.  Your gifts of support and encouragement that helped me to build my confidence.   Your gift of entrusting me to cover for Pastor Condon during the summers enabling me to experience ministry “on my own.”  The gift of kind words, encouragement, and advice as I grew into these many rolls while ministering with you.  The confidentiality you entrusted me with in the gift of sharing your life concerns, joys, and sorrows.

I also thank everyone for the letters, gifts, emails and personal conversations that we have shared both in these last couple of months and through the last 5 years.  I thank the many committees I served on, and individuals on those committees, for your listening and embracing new ideas.  And though not on a committee, I extend a special thank you to Susanne for her gift of “people skills.”  Words cannot properly express how much I appreciate all she has done and all the ways in which she has helped me each day…  even when it had nothing to do with church!

As I mentioned earlier, please know that my future ministry, wherever it takes me, will include all the gifts this church has given me.  You will all forever be a part of me, and the ministry I bring to others, because of all you have done for me.  Please except my apologies if I have forgotten any thank you’s.

The life and message of Jesus witnesses to us that when goodbyes come we can grow through them.  We can be changed, transformed, and raised from our empty places of loss to experience something new within us.  May blessings of the wonder and fullness of life shine through you till we meet again.

God Bless & Godspeed,

Pastor Deborah

 

May 18, 2007

Dear Friends,

Have you ever pondered the idea of becoming a monk or a nun?   For a while, as a young teen, I seriously entertained the idea of becoming a nun.  Yet, not being Catholic presented a quite a roadblock and I really didn’t have a desire to change that.  As I grew older, I came to realize my desire to be a nun was partly because I was at an awkward and uncomfortable stage in my life—so difficult and troubling to me—that I wanted to find a way to escape it.

I think many of us tend to think that monks and nuns reject, or at lest intend to escape, the present world, while the rest of us seek to live and find our way—our salvation—in that same world they attempt to escape.  Yet, in actual fact they and we are not so different.

The concerns that led our Christian ancestors to take leave of their lives “in this world” are also things we are concerned about: earning a living in a Christian fashion; the responsibilities of family life; temptations that prevent love of God, self, or neighbor; temptations that destroy the self; consumerism; the desire for power over others.

Some, no doubt, really may have thought of themselves as escaping the world.  But most, on the contrary, rather than escaping responsibility, “left the world” to get to the real struggle within themselves in order to deepen their relationship with God that they might put their full energies into what God was calling them to do for the world.  Monastics believed then, as they do now, that the goal of Christian life is love of God and love of neighbor. 

Let me share with you one of my favorite stories about the early monastics:

Once, the brothers in the monastery of Dorotheos of

Gaza

forgot what they were about in

the monastic life.  Dorotheos used this illustration to remind them of what we, as humans,

are about.  Imagine, he asks, that we have drawn a circle with a compass.  God is at the center—the point of the compass.  Imagine that the outside of the circle is the world, and the lives of human beings are represented by many straight lines drawn from the outside to the center.  (Like spokes on a wagon wheel.)

To move toward God, then, human beings move from the outer edge along the lines to the

center.  At the same time, the closer they are to God, the closer they become to one another; and the closer they are to one another, the closer they become to God. 

For the early monastics, love stands at the heart of the Christian life—as its staring point, it’s goal, and its purpose.  It was to be a concrete part of their daily lives.  What they wanted was to be able to love the ordinary people around them as images of God on an everyday basis.

We are all made in the image of God.  We are meant to have an intimate relationship with God.  And in the same manner, we are meant to also have an intimate relationship to each other.  The bonds that connect us are the bonds of love—God’s love—for us, but also our love for God… and neighbor… which can never be separated from one from the other.

Such an understanding has real significance for helping us make sense of our human situation. 

No doubt, we all have times when we wish we could escape this world.  Perhaps we would be wiser to get to the real struggle within ourselves, and in the process deepen our relationship with God that we might find a way to put our full energies into what God is calling us to do for ourselves… for others… for the world… and, so ultimately, for God. 

Loving the ordinary people around us as images of God requires being attentive to the people with whom we spend most of our time—people whom we may find irritating from such close contact!  Or people whose presence we might so much take for granted that we hardly really notice them any more!  How often we find it much easier to love in a crisis situation!! 

Yet, as the story of Dorotheos of Gaza shows, it is good that we all are unique human beings connected to God, thus, we should value each other accordingly as individuals.  The bonds that connect us are the bonds of love—God’s love for us, but also, our love for God—and in the middle of that connection is our neighbor.  In God’s eyes that’s what we, as humans, are all about.

God bless,

Pastor Deborah

                                                    A Prayer For The World

Let the rain come and wash away

the ancient grudges, the bitter hatreds

held and nurtured over generations.

Let the rain wash away the memory

of the hurt, the neglect.

Then let the sun come out and

fill the sky with rainbows.

Let the warmth of the sun heal us

wherever we are broken.

Let it burn the fog so that

we can see each other clearly.

So that we can see beyond labels,

beyond accents, gender or skin color.

Let the warmth and brightness

of the sun melt our selfishness.

So that we can share the joys and

feel the sorrows of our neighbors.

And let the light of the sun

be so strong that we will see all

people as our neighbors.

Let the earth, nourished by the rain,

bring forth flowers

to surround us with beauty.

And let the mountains teach our hearts

to reach upward to heaven.

Amen.             

                                                                                                               -- Rabbi Harold S. Kushner

Dear Friends

As I sit to write this newsletter, the sun is coming up over the trees and shining right into my home office.  It’s hard to imagine something so far away can still generate such warmth on us.  A warmth, not just of the sunray’s heat, but after this last cold spell, a warmth of heart in inspiration and anticipation of the arrival of spring.  I actually saw a robin in my yard yesterday. 

I remember as a child being told by my parents that at this time of year, spring was just around the corner.  Confused by this saying, I kept asking, “What corner?” Where should I look around?  (I actually would look expectantly around each corner for a while.) This idea of spring “just around the corner” excited my youthful hopes.  Of course, my parents got a kick out of this, and so, continued to make this comment just to watch me become so excited.  Eventually, I came to understand that it is just a “play on words.”  Yet, even knowing this today, I still get a childlike feeling of excitement as I visualize this time of year, nearing winter’s end. 

Along this line of childlike excitement, I’d like to share with you an incident that I witnessed many years ago at a department store.  I was in the checkout line.  Ahead of me, trying to finish checking out, was a young mother with a 6-year-old and an infant.  She was trying to decide with the clerk what couple of things to put back because she was short of money.  While this was taking place, the 6-year-old wandered over to a game machine.  It was one of those big windowed boxes with a crane-like contraption and claws that drop down to grab special trinkets—like small stuffed toys—inside.  One must manually maneuver the claws to pick the prize one wants and deposit it into the shoot so it falls down, and then YOU WIN!  I think we all know the odds of actually winning anything (except lighter pockets & purses from using up the quarters). 

The 6-year-old came racing back naïvely excited, exclaiming, “Mom, Mom! I just saw the “tiger” I wanted to get.  I know I can’t buy anything, but this is only a quarter, and it’s just what I want!”  The mother looked distraught, as she tried to explain to her son that it was a waste of money, and she did not have quarters to keep giving him to try to win “that special stuffed toy.”  His excitement was unrelenting.  “Mom, just one quarter?  Just one.  I know I can do it.  I just know it.  Just one quarter, and I won’t ask for another one.  I promise.”

I felt angry that department stores allowed such machines that preyed on the young minds and hopes of innocent youth for profit.  This poor child would end up disappointed one way or another. Either his mother would not give him the quarter, or she would give him the quarter, and he’d use it, and get nothing.  Either way, he’d be sad.  Those were the options I saw as an experienced and wise adult. 

Eventually the mother relented and gave him just one quarter.  As he began to bolt away from her, she grabbed his arm and said, “I can’t give you another one.”  He replied, “That’s okay Mom.  I won’t need another one.”  And off he ran to the machine.  My heart was saddened for what was about to take place.

As the mother finished checking out, I heard the boy shouting with glee.  “See, see I told you!  All I needed was one quarter.”  He was carrying the toy stuffed tiger he had been determined to get.  I could not believe it! J

This incident made me reflect on the childlike excitement—the “daring to dream”—that I had pushed aside, now that I was an adult.  I felt it was God’s way of reminding me to have the faith of a child.  While we all have to face the facts of life, every once in a while, it doesn’t hurt to relive our childlike excitements. 

Over this month of March, as we say goodbye to winter and hello to signs of spring, may your hopes and dreams come to bear fruit in you.  Dare to dream like a child and your outlook will change.  Spring is just around the corner!

God bless,

                Pastor Deborah