Dear Friend,

The gospel reading for this coming Sunday is the one in which Jesus rebukes Peter for trying to claim that the Messiah won’t need to suffer and die. It’s not my favorite. But I’m finding it compelling this year in light of last week’s reading where Jesus called the Syrophoenician woman a dog. We all struggle to see people for who they really are, don’t we?

In between the two gospel readings is my favorite gospel story in which Jesus tries to heal a blind man by spitting in his hands and placing his hands on the man’s eyes (the image of which takes on a whole new level of horrifying in this age of COVID). Jesus then asks the man if he can see and the man says he can see people, but they look like trees walking. So Jesus tries again, this time managing to restore the man’s sight completely.

I’m finding it harder and harder these days to see people as more than trees walking. I, like so many of us, have very strong feelings about masking and the vaccine and COVID and how other people should be behaving, and it feels like it takes me more and more effort each day to set those particular convictions to the side so that I can try to see people clearly, regardless of whether they agree with me or not.

It’s in Mark’s gospel, in particular, that Jesus keeps trying to tell his disciples and the people he encounters not to tell anyone about him (to no great effect as they almost always go and tell everyone they know). I have a new appreciation for Jesus’ plea these days—for the plea to stop telling people what you don’t fully understand yourself, to stop telling people what you’ve seen because what you’ve seen isn’t the whole story. We all judge one another based on what we can see, but we almost always fail to consider the conversations that happen in private, the weighing of pros and cons, the mental gymnastics required to balance out individual desires, public safety, family needs, and all the rest. We assume because we know a little about someone, because we know the choices that they’ve made in a few small instances, that we can extrapolate the rest, that we know what they believe or how they feel. But that’s never the case. And when we pretend that it is, we’re confusing walking trees with people.

So, as we get ready to head into the weekend, may you notice when you’re seeing trees walking instead of people. And may you be reminded there is always more to people and the decisions they make than we see.

Blessings,
Pastor Sarah

Ending Poverty in the United States Would Actually Be Pretty Easy

An interview with Joanne Goldblu and Colleen Shaddox

I found this interview with the authors of  Broke in America: Seeing, Understanding, and Ending U.S. Poverty interesting and worth reading. I need another book on my “to read” pile like a hole in the head, but I’ve still ordered a copy of this one because if it’s a problem we can solve, it feels me that we (as Christians) should.

Here’s just a taste of the interview:

Question:
Almost immediately in this book, you confront the maxim, “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime”: “Antipoverty efforts should stop making assumptions about people’s fishing abilities,” you write. “It’s past time to stop judging and give that hungry person a fish.” Why did you take that on?

Colleen Shaddox:
That saying summarizes everything that’s wrong with how the United States addresses poverty: we say the problem is the person, so we need to fix the person and what that person lacks in skills. But does he even have a fishing pole? Is he too weak with hunger to go fish? Is the “he” in question actually a woman, and women aren’t allowed to fish there?

It’s so paternalistic and so horrible. Yet people say it all the time, like they’ve said something wise and caring.

Joanne Goldblu:
At the policy level, we create systems that actually make it harder for people to be self-sufficient.

For example, many people who are part of the TANF (Temporary Assistance for Needy Families) or workforce development programs are trained to become certified nursing assistants, CNAs. That’s a very important job that we need to do. But it is a poverty-wage job. By and large, people who work in those positions don’t have workplace benefits and are not paid a living wage. But the government trains someone to be a CNA and then it can feel like it’s done something because it’s gotten that person off of the rolls.

Read the full article here.

I Have Decided to Follow Jesus

Taryn Harbridge

We’ll be using a shorter, sung version of this song in worship on Sunday, but as I was browsing YouTube, I came across this instrumental version and find it quite lovely and impressive. If nothing else, anyone who can play that many instruments and has the technological know-how to put them all together so they mesh correctly is worth listening to. Plus she plays the finger harp.

Katelyn Ohashi Floor Routine

When the Going Gets Tough

Katrina Kenison

When the going gets tough may I resist my first impulse to wade in, fix, explain, resolve, and restore. May I sit down instead.

When the going gets tough may I be quiet. May I steep for a while in stillness.

When the going gets tough may I have faith that things are unfolding as they are meant to. May I remember that my life is what it is, not what I ask for. May I find the strength to bear it, the grace to accept it, the faith to embrace it.

When the going gets tough may I practice with what I’m given, rather than wish for something else. When the going gets tough may I assume nothing. May I not take it personally. May I opt for trust over doubt, compassion over suspicion, vulnerability over vengeance.

When the going gets tough may I open my heart before I open my mouth.

When the going gets tough may I be the first to apologize. May I leave it at that. May I bend with all my being toward forgiveness.

When the going gets tough may I look for a door to step through rather than a wall to hide behind.

When the going gets tough may I turn my gaze up to the sky above my head, rather than down to the mess at my feet. May I count my blessings.

When the going gets tough may I pause, reach out a hand, and make the way easier for someone else. When the going gets tough may I remember that I’m not alone. May I be kind.

When the going gets tough may I choose love over fear. Every time …