Holy Week Reflection: Frugality vs. Extravagance

I’ve spent much of Holy Week reflecting on the contrast between the ideas of frugality and extravagance. The themes are interwoven in some truly curious ways throughout the Biblical story, but in few places are they as evident as in Mark 14:3-9 (also John 12:1-8). Here we read:

3 While Jesus was in Bethany sitting at the table in the home of Simon the leper, a woman arrived with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume made from pure nard. She broke open the jar and poured the perfume on his head. 4 Irritated, some who were there asked one another, “Why was the perfume wasted like this? 5 This perfume could have been sold for more than 300 denarii and the money given to the destitute.” So they got extremely angry with her.6 But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing for me, 7 because you’ll always have the destitute with you and can help them whenever you want, but you won’t always have me. 8 She has done what she could. She poured perfume on my body in preparation for my burial. 9 I tell all of you with certainty, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will also be told as a memorial to her.”

Those of us who grew up with the Protestant Work Ethic can really feel the tension in this passage – there are people in need and God has commanded us to care for them. A year’s wages can buy a lot of food. Yet instead of rebuking the woman for her wastefulness, God praises her. In fact, not only does Jesus offer words of affirmation to the woman, He says that anywhere the gospel is proclaimed, the news of her generosity will be told. And this causes our minds to reel.

The very fact that this story causes us this level of confusion and discomfort should be a signal that we’ve misunderstood something key about our relationship with God: frugality is not always a virtue. In fact, it can easily become an idol.

I recently heard a pastor say that “frugality” was so valued by some of their congregants that they thought their parishioners took seriously the idea of ensuring any nails left over from Christ’s crucifixion went to good use. Though they were using the word “frugality” in a figurative sense to highlight how those under their care embraced attitudes of unforgiveness, their statement also serves to illustrate my point: when something we view as a virtue becomes a means to do harm to another (even under the auspices of obedience to God’s commands), it ceases to be a virtue. And if we cling to it as such, it will replace God in our estimation and become an idol.

So what’s the remedy? Extravagance. Far from being a form of wastefulness, extravagance acts purely out of love for another – not because the gift is useful or will serve an end, but simply because it will delight the one to whom it is given. We see this in the Thank Offering of Leviticus 7:11-34 when those who have already offered God those things which are commanded are welcomed to go above and beyond for the pure joy that comes from bringing pleasure to their Creator.

I was thinking about this as I prepared a traditional Native American offering of tobacco for Good Friday. In Native tradition, tobacco wasn’t meant to be smoked in a pipe but was instead a special gift from Creator to bring joy to relationships. One gave it as a thank offering to those from whom one had already received something of value, but to whom no repayment (partial or otherwise) could be offered – to leaders who provided wisdom and guidance; to Creator who gave the rains from the sky, the yield of the earth, fruits in their season. It was a way of saying, “I recognize that I have nothing of value to give you, but I want to bring you joy.” The gift is extravagant because it is costly. (Have you looked at tobacco prices recently?) The gift is extravagant because it buys nothing and achieves no end save to bring joy to God. (Creator grants no special favor to those who make such an offering as opposed to those who do not.) The gift is extravagant because it is a response to extravagance.

                  This is, in fact, the message of Holy Week – that we serve a God who so desires that we should live within the joy of relationship with Them that They were willing to give Their own lifeblood to secure it. The cross is extravagance – a gift that cannot be repaid, offered purely to bring us Home. And so God’s head is anointed with perfume, a thank offering that buys the woman nothing, that has no purpose but to bring joy to the Christ who will suffer and die for the sins of humanity.

                  When was the last time you embraced an attitude of extravagance when you let go of the impulse to frugality and gave of yourself to God and others simply for the joy it would bring them? I can speak for myself – it doesn’t happen as often as it should. So this is my goal in the coming year: to let go of the impulse toward the idol of frugality and embrace instead an attitude of extravagance. May we all give as freely to God as God has given to us.

Idolatry and the Pursuit of Perfection

The New Year is a time for new beginnings. If you’re anything like me, you’ve spent some time reflecting on the last year and made some decisions regarding things you’d like to approach differently in the coming months. This type of “taking stock” is human nature. Though we tend to focus on it more intently as one year rolls into the next, we actually live most of our lives in this evaluative state. We have a phone conversation and think through everything that was said a dozen times afterward. We make a parenting decision and then reconsider our actions after the fact. We make a commitment and then reevaluate the cost. Sometimes we even reassess and decide that we did a good job handling the situation! And “sometimes” is the key word.

In a culture that glorifies perfection, it can be hard to look at anything we’ve done (at least if we’re looking honestly) and feel that there isn’t room for improvement. While there isn’t anything inherently wrong with making such evaluations, I’d like to start out this new year by challenging the idea that “perfection” should be our end goal.

To begin with, “perfection” implies that an objective standard exists. While one might argue that there are some situations in which this is true, even in those areas of life that require a degree of accuracy or precision there is usually a tolerance range. The bolts manufactured for a particular application must have a variance of no less than 3nm and no more than 5nm. Which number within that range represents “perfect”?

In other cases, “perfection” is even less objective. Just ask an artist. One of the reasons new artists often become paralyzed and quit producing (or even practicing) is that their art doesn’t look identical to someone else’s. It represents the same technique but applied in a different way. It depicts the same subject matter but from a different perspective. This may appear to be the absence of “perfection” yet this is how art evolves. Not all Cubists painted like Picasso. Not all Impressionists’ work looked like Van Gough. This isn’t a bad thing; the differences alone don’t suggest that any one artist’s work was inferior to another’s. They were just… different.

For this reason, when I evaluate my past decisions or set goals for future work, I try to bypass this idea of “perfection” altogether. Does this mean I don’t set goals? Hardly! But when I do, I try to do so without artificially elevating the bar for success. Yes, sometimes there is a range into which I need to fall. I do need to make efforts to stay healthy, but does my blood pressure always need to be 120/80? Not really. 110/70 also works. Sometimes I set the bar for myself higher than I would for other folks just because I know that with a little stretch, I can reach it. And sometimes… sometimes, I don’t set the bar very high at all.

While there are some areas of life in which the pursuit of excellence is important, making excellence our goal in everything is actually a form of idolatry. (Wait? What?!) Yes, you heard me correctly – when our highest goal in life is to achieve perfection, excellence, or some variation thereof, we’ve actually slipped into sin.

Now, I can hear you asking – doesn’t Jesus say “be ye perfect even as your Father in Heaven is perfect?” (Matthew 5:48) And the answer is yes… sort of. The Greek word used here is actually teleios which means “complete, mature, adult, initiated, whole.” In other words, we are to be as God created us to be – living all aspects of life in relationship with God as unique individuals created in the image of God. It is this relationship, extended to everyone – rich or poor, educated or uneducated, able-bodied or disabled – throughout the whole of humankind’s existence that offers wholeness. Not our ability to live up to subjective standards or even to “be like God.” In fact, it’s of note, that the lure of “being like God” is what started the world on the track to the messy state it’s in, to begin with! Whenever our relationship with God is supplanted by the self-centered pursuit of personal perfection, we’ve slipped into idolatry. We’ve removed God from their rightful place and put ourselves, our goals, our self-perception, our reputation with others in God’s place. This is sin.

So what can we do to prevent this? First, we can accept the reality that sometimes “good enough” is in fact good enough. When I was at Princeton, I taught and tutored Hebrew. As you can imagine, this was a pretty scary subject for some and even scarier for those for whom their future was dependent upon their ability not just to pass the course, but to put what they’d learned to use on an ordination exam. As we came up to tests, there were always a number of highly anxious students losing sleep as they pursued the perfect score that many of them knew simply wasn’t within reach. I’d stand at the front of the class and remind them that eventually no one would care what grade they’d gotten in the course – as long as they passed. In other words, “C’s make degrees.” Study – yes. Memorize – yes. Practice – yes. But don’t skip meals, lose sleep, or become a jerk with your friends and family in pursuit of perfection. If achieving the mark means disobedience to Christ (in this case, abuse of self and others), you shouldn’t be striving for that mark to begin with.

Second, when we find ourselves striving to be “good enough,” we can ask ourselves the question “good enough for what?” My students and fellow classmates needed to be good enough to pass… but sometimes we don’t even need to be that good. For me “good enough” is often tied to whether I’m experiencing joy in the pursuit. If you want to see this play out, come to the ladies’ knitting group. I taught myself to knit years ago and continue to do so – but only because it gives me something constructive to do with my hands while spending time with people I care about. A close examination of my work reveals something peculiar: I only know how to knit. That’s right; I know exactly one stitch. I can’t knit one, pearl two because I don’t know how to pearl. And I can only knit in a straight line. No socks, no beanies, just scarves. An endless supply of scarves. Could I become more skilled and proficient? Yes. Do I need to? Nope. I’m perfectly happy with this.

And this is my encouragement to you – it isn’t a sin to be perfectly happy with “good enough.” It’s okay to run every 10k in the neighborhood and never train hard enough to place. There’s no crime in taking a welding class just because it interests you and not because you have professional aspirations. You don’t have to become Pavarotti or Picasso to find joy or release in music or art. This year, instead of striving for perfection, instead of comparing ourselves to others, instead of failing at impossible goals – let’s keep our focus on Christ. Let’s build the relationship that matters and enjoy the process.

The Mystery Box Effect

Several months ago, I preached a sermon on the Presbyterian model of stewardship. If you were present, you’ll remember that I talked about the way in which we often “put the cart before the horse” – doing our annual stewardship drive prior to establishing our ministry budget for the year. While there’s a lot to be said for a balanced budget (I’m a big advocate for this both personally and corporately), it’s also important to recognize that budgets that aren’t based on a shared corporate vision tend to shrink rather than grow. And there’s a reason for this; I call it the “Mystery Box Effect.”

If you aren’t familiar with mystery boxes, these are curated collections of items pertaining to a particular interest group (fishermen, cooks, comic book collectors, etc.) that can be purchased for a flat price (sometimes as a subscription) and may or may not contain useful or desirable items. Sometimes you really luck out and hit the mother lode. Others… eh. Mystery boxes can be a lot of fun if you’re looking to part with some spare cash, but they leave a lot to be desired if you’re looking to make a solid financial investment.

The truth is that most of us try to invest the financial resources God has entrusted to us in known products or outcomes. We don’t just want to know what we are getting, we want to know why. We have an end-goal in mind and we are seeking to invest in something that will better enable us to reach that goal.

Imagine yourself strolling through the supplement aisle at the grocery store. The shelves are lined with bottles which we know (or at least assume) contain things that are “good for us.” Yet aside from the truly malnourished, most of us don’t just stroll down the aisle and grab one of everything. (Imagine how expensive a shopping trip that would be!) Nor do we simply roll the dice and hope whichever random bottle we select will help treat our insomnia, hair loss, or skin rash. Instead, we make well-researched decisions based upon our end goals. Got the sniffles and want them to go away? Vitamin C. Need a mood lift? Vitamin D. Need to stay focused? Maybe some Ginkgo.

Selecting ministry investments for a church budget really isn’t that different from selecting a good dietary supplement. There are a lot of missions and ministries which are “good for us” (or more precisely, the Kingdom of God), but not every one is a good investment for us.  So we prayerfully (and corporately) work to discern God’s will – identifying those investments which best meet the immediate needs of the congregation and help prepare us to meet developing needs in the community around us. The church budget shouldn’t be a “mystery box.”

Toward that end, we’ve asked our committees and boards to break down their budget proposals for 2024 into three key categories:

1. Essentials – These are necessary expenditures without which the church cannot function. They include things like heating, snow removal, and staff salaries.
2. Low-Hanging Fruit – These are projects which require a limited investment of time and money, but which have the potential to yield immediate, noticeable results. Without these, the church cannot grow. They are the things which nurture the spirits and souls of our congregation in such a way that our parishioners feel compelled to go out and share the Gospel with others or which enable us to better invite others into the family of God.
3. Vision Projects – These are high value projects which will yield noticeable results, but only when examined over a longer period of time. These are investment projects without which the church cannot maintain long-term stability. They include those things that often go unnoticed unless they have been left undone, but which have the potential to severely impact the congregation and its ministry if left unaddressed.

These three categories will help clarify the “why” behind our ministry investments. But discerning the end goals of these investments isn’t just a function of our committees and boards – it’s a task that belongs to all of us as we corporately seek to discern God’s leading. With that in mind, now is the time to share your hopes and dreams – to think about where you feel God calling us as a congregation. If you’d like to be involved, here are three ways to engage more deeply in this process:

1. Talk to the pastor. I take walk-ins most days during regular office hours and am available at other times by appointment. The more I understand about your perspectives – how you believe God to be leading us corporately – the better I’m able to assist our committees and boards in trying to put the pieces together.
2. Talk to the chair(s) or moderator(s) of the committee, or the president of the board.* Ask questions to better understand the committee or board’s mission and take time to share your ideas.

Our standing committees and boards are:

1. Christian Education
   1. Music and Worship
   1. Outreach
   1. Fellowship
   1. Personnel
   1. Trustees
   1. Deacons

*If you need names and contact information, please contact the office at office@cazpres.org or 315-655-3191.

• Join a committee. It isn’t too late! Christian Education, Outreach, and Fellowship all have vacancies waiting to be filled. Our only request is that you take time to ensure that you will be able to attend the majority of the committee’s meetings (a quorum is necessary to conduct business) and have the interest and capacity to actively participate in the services the committee performs for the congregation. (Limited to one committee per individual.)

By corporately engaging in the process of discerning God’s will and carefully targeting our ministry investments, we will avoid the “Mystery Box Effect.” Instead, we will begin to develop the unity and drive necessary to pursue God’s vision – bringing the Good News of God’s Love to Cazenovia and beyond.

Strategic Discernment: The Art of Questioning

Humans are innately curious creatures. I don’t mean ‘curious’ in the sense that we are odd or unusual (though a solid argument could be made in defense of this definition), but ‘curious’ in the sense that every one of us seems to be born with an infinite capacity to question. In fact, as children, we question nearly everything we encounter: “Why is the sky blue?” “Why do ants have six legs?” “Why do I need to clean up my room?”

As adults, we try to answer these questions the best we are able given a child’s (and sometimes our own) limited understanding of the concepts of light refraction, genetics, and hygiene. We diligently repeat the mantra “there are no stupid questions” – if only to remind ourselves not to get too terribly annoyed at the young minds who are never fully satisfied by our replies. Yet in spite of such ardent repetition, I must admit that I’m not wholly convinced of the mantra’s truthfulness.

I once sat in a college class during which the question “When is the final due?” was asked no fewer than twelve times. (Yes, I was keeping count.) By the last time the question was asked, I was pretty firmly convinced that common knowledge was wrong. There are stupid questions… or at least questions that have already been answered with such clarity and precision that there shouldn’t be a need to ask them again. To do so is to waste time and energy that could be better used elsewhere.

That said, there are far more wrong questions than there are stupid ones. Fans of Douglas Adams’ “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” will be familiar with this concept. After 7.5 billion years of tedious calculations, the galactic supercomputer “Deep Thought” finally reveals that “The answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything is 42.” When the philosophers gather around to ponder the cryptic declaration, Deep Though suggests that their difficulty in interpreting its meaning stems from the fact that they didn’t actually know what the question was to begin with. And so, they construct an even more powerful supercomputer (Earth) to calculate the ultimate question for which 42 is the ultimate answer.

Absurdities aside, the truth is that the first question we ask often times isn’t the correct one. While known primarily for the automobile company which bears his name, Sakichi Toyoda is also known in the business world for his development of “The 5 Why’s” – a methodology intended to help questioners get to the real root of the problems they encounter and arrive at long-term sustainable solutions.[1] Toyoda argued that this could be accomplished by asking the question “why?” five times. (This does, in fact, imply that our children have it right: “why” is the ultimate question.)

Used in the appropriate context, Toyoda’s “5 Why’s” are quite useful. They can, however, backfire when the question isn’t asked in the right way. I recently attempted to utilize this technique in a situation in which I had not clarified what I was doing or my attitude towards it. Though I did get much of the information I needed, it was quite clear that I was the only one truly enjoying the dialogue. (My mistake.) Clearly, there is more to being a good questioner than just asking the right question – we must also ask it in the right way.

Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to participate in a survey of PC(USA) pastors. After answering some demographic information, I was asked about my work: “Is it stressful?” “How often do you feel emotionally drained?” “Are you in good health?” This was followed by a battery of questions concerning my personal political and theological perspectives and then a series of enquiries regarding which hot-button topics I felt I should or shouldn’t address with my congregation.

Some of the questions were a bit obscure in their phrasing and, after having indicated that I felt no need to preach on several issues which (in my opinion) are serious societal concerns, I couldn’t help wondering what context would be supplied by the interpreters after the fact. Will they recognize that I don’t feel a need to preach on a topic when my congregation has already communicated a clear understanding of Christ’s call to us in that regard? Or will they assume that I choose not to preach on certain issues I feel strongly about because I’m afraid of splitting the church? Will they understand that contextually, some issues of great national concern simply aren’t the most pressing issues for us locally? Or will they think I’m encouraging isolationism because I try to develop sermons that I believe are immediately relevant to most of my parishioners? I really don’t know, but this brings us to the most important aspect of being a good questioner – developing context through relationship.

You can ask the right question. You can ask it in the right way. But if you lack the context of relationship, the answer and its meaning will be difficult to decipher. Discernment is an iterative process. And that’s why listening is so important. Identifying God’s call both individually and corporately requires that we dig deep to understand call and context, to find the roots of what holds us back and what helps us grow. This can only happen when we listen carefully to God and to one another.

One of my pastoral mentors once told me that when it comes to conflicting views, I haven’t earned the right to express my own opinion until I can restate my opponent’s opinion with such clarity and accuracy that they would reply “I have nothing to add.” While I strongly discourage an attitude which views others within the congregation as ‘opponents,’ the core concept behind this advice is a good one – whatever the issue or opportunity, conflict or challenge, ask until you understand.

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[1] https://www.forbes.com/sites/theyec/2021/06/07/understanding-the-five-whys-how-to-successfully-integrate-this-tool-into-your-business/?sh=54aaaa535c18

How to Pray in a Time of Grief: A Reflection on the Nashville Shooting

I sat alone in the manse next door to a Presbyterian church (albeit of a different denomination), watching the village flag fly at half-mast.

“What part of this is bothering you the most?” my sister’s voice asked, echoing slightly in the tiny earbuds attached to my phone.

 I paused, choking back the tears, then uttered, “The pastor’s daughter.”

The truth is that I sit and cry every time something like this happens. I grieve not only for the death and destruction, the loss of innocent lives, but over the ways in which the anger and hatred of a single individual can suddenly become the fuel for the anger and hatred of so many others. We seem to live in a world in which the presence of a single enemy is not enough. We need a multitude. And the news media is so ready to provide us with any number of directions in which we can point our fingers. Outraged and unable to contain our grief, we perpetuate the same violence we abhor. Not through a rampage with a deadly weapon, but through words that wound and destroy.

But this time, there is more to my grief. As a pastor, I know the challenges that accompany leadership within a congregation. I’m aware of the ordinary stresses of ministry –committee work, staff supervision, and counseling individuals as they navigate their own grief over death, divorce, and lost jobs. Add to it the pressures of the upcoming Holy Week and most of us are struggling to take just one day at a time until our post-Easter vacation. And then this.

I honestly can’t fathom what Rev. Scruggs must be going through right now as he tries to process his own grief and the grief of his family while at the same time attending to a grieving congregation. So here are a few ways in which we can pray:

1. Pray that Rev. Scruggs and those around him will give him the time and space he needs to care for himself physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
2. Pray that Rev. Scruggs, his family, and his congregation will embrace their grief in ways that unite rather than divide.
3. Pray that local clergy and others within the community will surround Covenant Presbyterian Church with love and support.

But Pastor Scruggs isn’t the only one who needs our prayer. There are seven families grieving the loss of someone they loved – those of the six victims, and that of the perpetrator. Remember I mentioned our need for an enemy? Our need to assign blame (not the same as asking for justice) can become so strong that we exile not only those who perpetuate such crimes but their families as well.

A weeping mother phoned me the other day as she tried to process the event. “We need to pray for the family of the perpetrator. Because I can’t imagine how I would feel not only to lose a child I’d loved and nurtured but to know that they had been responsible for destroying the lives of so many others.” And she is right. We are all interconnected. Each of our lives touches others. And each loss (whether necessary to save the lives of others or not) matters.

During this Lenten season, we are reminded daily of the consequences of sin – the damage it does to our relationship with God, with one another, and with creation as a whole. We are called to mourn not only for the sins of others, but for our own. We are called to take stock of the ways in which we ourselves have helped to divide rather than to unite, to cultivate fear instead of faith, to stir up hatred rather than love. We are reminded that the enemy is not any single individual or group of individuals. The enemy is us and the sin that we so readily embrace. And we are called to repent.

As a pastor, I’d be negligent if I simply ended my reflections here. We live in a world in desperate need of healing – and that is exactly what Christ has offered us both corporately and individually through His death and resurrection. 1 John 1:9 reminds us that, “If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” The grief we experienced this week and will in the weeks to come is not the end. Instead, it is a call to confession, to repentance, to a renewed commitment to righteous living until the day when the final enemy is vanquished and all may live in peace.

A Self-Guided Interactive Walk Through the Stations of the Cross – Revised Common Lectionary Year A

The following was developed for use in a church setting and requires minimal set-up, but can easily be adapted for home use. It follows as closely as possible, the texts for the Revised Common Lectionary Year A and the story of Christ’s final days as portrayed in Matthew’s Gospel.

Station 1: Jesus prays in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Matthew 26:36-46

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Basket of Rocks

Instructions:

Take one of the rocks in your hand. Feel its shape and weight. Shift it from one hand to the next. As you read the passage, imagine feeling the weight of everyone’s sin upon your shoulders. Carry the rock with you as you proceed through each of the following stations.

Station 2: Jesus, betrayed by Judas, is arrested.

Matthew 26:47-56

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Paper and Pencils

Instructions:

Read the Scripture passage. The kiss was a common greeting between friends and it wouldn’t have seemed at all unusual to anyone present in the garden. Yet it quickly became evident that Judas was just “going through the motions.” Take a moment to reflect on your own relationship with God. Are there ways in which you are simply “going through the motions?” Write them down, then carry the paper and your rock from the last station to the next station.

Station 3: Jesus is condemned by the Sanhedrin.

Matthew 26:57-68

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Tearable Fabric

Instructions:

Read the Scripture passage. Tearing one’s clothes was a common way to express grief or sorrow as well as repentance, but the High Priest was forbidden to engage in this behavior (Lev. 10:6; 21:10). This was commanded, in part, as a demonstration of faith – faith that God’s judgments were just and God’s ways were right. Tear the fabric at the station and as you do, reflect on the ways in which you have lacked faith in God. If you like, you may write them on the paper you are carrying. Then carry your rock and paper to the next station.

Station 4: Jesus is denied by Peter.

Matthew 26:69-75

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Feathers
• Recording of Roosters Crowing

Instructions:

Hold a feather in your hand as you read the Scripture passage. Then read it again more slowly. Imagine that you are Peter. What are you thinking as you deny Jesus? How do you feel after each denial? How do you feel when the cock crows? Are there ways that you, personally, have denied Christ? Reflect on these. If you like, you may write them on the paper you are carrying. Carry your rock, your paper, and a feather with you to the next station.

Station 5: Jesus is judged by Pilate.

Matthew 27:11-26

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Basin of Water
• Towels for Drying Hands

Instructions:

Read the Scripture passage. Then read it again slowly. As governor of Judea, Pilate was responsible for keeping the peace. But he found himself between a rock and a hard place. If he executed Jesus, he’d be killing an innocent man. If he didn’t, the leaders of the people would ensure that Caesar knew Pilate had allowed a challenger to his throne to live and Pilate would be executed. Have there been times in your own life when you have chosen to act out of self- interest rather than do the right thing? If you like, you may write them on the paper you are carrying. When you have finished, wash your hands in the bowl. Then carry your rock, paper, and feather to the next station.

Station 6: Jesus is scourged and crowned with thorns.

Matthew 27:27-30

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Thorns Woven into a Crown

Instructions:

Hold the crown in your hand. As you read the Scripture passage, feel the points. While our crown is made of locally available thorns, it is believed that the ones Jesus wore were 2-3 inches long. Sit in silence for a moment and imagine the thorns digging into your brow. Carry your rock, paper, and feather to the next station.

Station 7: Jesus bears the cross.

Matthew 27:31

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• 2×4 Board

Instructions:

Read the Scripture Passage. Crucifixion was so common that the vertical beams for the crosses were a permanent fixture outside most major cities. Those condemned to execution were forced to carry the cross-beam (patibulum) from the place of judgement to the hillside as a way of further shaming them before the crowds. Though these beams weren’t extremely heavy, they could take a toll on a prisoner who was already beaten and bloodied. Lift the beam, feel the wood against your hands, place it on your back if you like. Now imagine dragging it across the cobbled streets to the sound of a jeering crowd. Carry your rock, your paper, and your feather to the next station.

Station 8: Jesus is helped by Simon of Cyrene to carry the cross.

Matthew 27:32

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions

Instructions:

Place your rock, your paper, and your feather on the table. Slowly read the Scripture passage. Has there ever been a time when you’ve been forced to carry someone else’s burden? How did it feel? Imagine you are Simon. Because only criminals carried crosses through the streets, you are subject to the same ridicule as those guilty of offense. How do you feel? Let the emotions sweep over you. Now collect your rock, your paper, and your feather and carry them to the next station.

Station 9: Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem.

Luke 23:27-31

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• 1 Live Plant
• 1 Dead Plant

Instructions:

Feel the foliage (leaves) on each plant. How are they similar? How do they differ? Read the Scripture passage. Jesus knew there was plenty to mourn over, but he also knew that there was still hope – hope because of what he was about to do. That hope is offered to all who trust in him. Take a moment to reflect on this. Then carry your rock, your paper, and your feather to the next station.

Station 10: Jesus is crucified.

Matthew 27:33-36

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Dice
• Purple Cloth

Instructions:

Take the dice in your hand. Feel their weight. Roll them around. Now read the Scripture passage. Have there been times in your life when you have become more focused on what you can gain from a situation than on what is actually taking place around you? If you like, you may write about these on the paper you are carrying. Then pick up your rock, your paper, and your feather and proceed to the next station.

Station 11: Jesus promises the Kingdom to the repentant thief.

Matthew 27:37-44

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Wooden Cross
• Nails
• Hammer

Instructions:

Read the Scripture passage. The “thieves” hung alongside Jesus were insurrectionists – men guilty of inciting violence against others. Their crimes were worthy of death in both the Roman system and that of the Jewish Law. So close to death, there was nothing they could do to make up for their crimes, yet Jesus forgave the one who repented. Take a moment to prayerfully review what you’ve written on your paper. Then use the supplies provided to nail your sins to the cross. (No one will look at what you’ve written. The papers will be burned following the service.) Leave your feather behind and carry your rock to the next station.

Station 12: Jesus speaks to his mother and the disciple.

John 19:25-27

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions

Instructions:

Read the Scripture passage. We all have people who matter to us. Take a moment to think about those around you who need God’s divine touch. Spend a few moments in prayer, then carry your rock to the next station.

Station 13: Jesus dies on the cross.

Matthew 27:45-56

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Pictures of solar eclipses

Instructions:

Read the Scripture passage. As you do, imagine yourself at the foot of the cross with John and the women who followed Jesus. What do you see? What do you smell? What do you hear? Now imagine yourself in the temple. Jesus died at the hour of the afternoon sacrifice. Can you see all the people gathered around? The temple curtain was three inches thick. What do you hear as it tears from top to bottom? What do you feel as that barrier between God and humankind is removed? We have many things to be grateful for and Christ’s sacrifice is not the least. Spend a moment praising God for their goodness. Then carry your rock to the next station.

Station 14: Jesus is placed in the tomb.

Matthew 27:57-66

Supplies:

• Scripture Printout
• Instructions
• Pile of rocks

Instructions:

Read the Scripture passage. Hold your rock in your hand. Feel its shape, its weight. In silence, listen for the voice of God. When you are ready, leave your rock in the pile.

A Season of Preparation

I’ll admit it. There was some swearing. After a solid hour and a dozen YouTube videos, I still couldn’t figure out how to get the fresh braid to wind smoothly onto my new baitcasting reel.[1] I had viewed clips of professional anglers threading the line through the guide and observed three or four different ways to attach the line to the reel. I’d watched the whole process from different angles and taken notes of each fisherman’s “special” tips and tricks for tightly loading the reel.[2] Yet each time I turned the crank, I got the same results – a loosely wound line that I knew would quickly devolve into a tangled bird’s nest if ever I tried to cast it. Surely, this would have gone faster if I’d just taken the lot to the sporting goods store and let someone else do this for me. But then that would have defeated the point.

You see, having caught the fishing bug in a hard-core sort of way, I knew that there would be a lot of fishing line in my future and that not all of it would need to be replaced when I was conveniently close to the aforementioned sporting goods outlet. If I was going to take this seriously and truly enjoy my future trips without any of them being cut short due to my ineptitude with the line, I needed to learn to do this for myself. On this particular night, doing it for myself meant I needed to keep trying.

I checked the line weight and verified again that I’d purchased the correct product, then (with a sigh and a bit of mumbling) tried just one more YouTube video. And there it was! There was one more tension knob on the reel – one that as a spin caster, I had been unaware of – but it was there, loose as a goose, wriggling about in ways that made it look like a seductive 1920s flapper. With a couple quick twists, I cranked it down and suddenly… everything changed. Five minutes later, the reel was fully loaded with tight, evenly spaced line, ready to be fished. I had conquered the beast.

As I reflected on the incident, I began thinking about the parallel between the exasperating evening I’d spent prepping my gear and the Lenten journey with which so many of us are now currently engaged. The truth is, we live in a society that often values efficiency over growth. Recognizing that there are limits to our natural or developed skill sets, many of us opt to find other more gifted individuals to handle the trickier situations in which we find ourselves. (This is why I pay someone else to do my taxes!) This inclination toward delegation is often beneficial – particularly for those who are in or aspire to accede to roles in leadership. However, it can also be detrimental to our well-being.

You see, while there are things that others can do for us (fixing our cars, making our clothes, preparing our meals), there are some things that we simply must do for ourselves. No matter how well our food has been “predigested” or how efficiently medical apparatus may deliver it to our gut or our bloodstream, no one else can force our bodies to absorb the nutrition it provides. No matter what machines are pumping oxygen into our system or helping to remove carbon dioxide from it, no one else can make our bodies properly employ the resource. Life requires a connection with the “life source” – something beyond the raw materials necessary for survival.  

 As a hospital chaplain, I was sometimes called upon to attend to the bedside of an individual whom the doctors had declared “brain dead.” To all appearances, the individual was still alive – their heart was beating (because an electrical pulse from a machine prompted the muscular contraction), their chest rose and fell with each “breath” (because a machine was pumping air in), but they themselves were no longer alive. Take away the machines and within moments there was silence. It had a sobering effect.

Without the “Source” there is no life. While this is easy to see in a medical sense, this truth often gets a bit obscured when it comes to the more spiritual aspects of our existence. After all, it only takes a quick Google search to uncover an unending supply of sermons by pastors who have “predigested” the Scriptures for us or charities who will perform acts of discipleship on our behalf. In a world in which efficiency is often valued over growth, it has become extremely easy to delegate our spirituality to others.

Yet the repeated invitation of our God is not to an outsourced form of religious engagement, but to a relationship with the one and only “Life Source” (John 1:4, 14:6; Romans 5:18; 1 John 5:11-12, 20). Confronted with temptation during His 40-day desert fast, Jesus quoted from Deuteronomy 8:3, “Humankind shall not live by bread alone” (Matthew 4:4). And this is the point of Lent – the season of preparation.

My enjoyment of the upcoming fishing season is closely linked to the decisions I make regarding delegation and growth. In choosing the former, I may save some time in the present – but I’ll lose out in the long run as a much-coveted day on a lake or pond is cut short by my ineptitude at handling a common angling complaint. And the same applies to our walk with God. Our decision to take the long preparatory walk of the Lenten season – to fast (from food, Facebook, or something else), pray, and read the Scriptures, to seek communion and connection with the “Life Source” – makes all the difference when it comes to our ability to handle the challenges which face us in our daily lives. With that in mind, let’s make the best of this final week and grow together in faith and love.

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[1] For those unacquainted with the fine art of fishing, a “bait caster” is a special reel designed to lob various live and synthetic baits – different from lures – with far more precision than a regular spinning reel. It allows the intrepid angler to offer a nice plastic worm to the giant bass hiding beneath a log jam without getting the entire apparatus hung up on or (worse yet) in the log jam. It can be incredibly useful if you’re fishing for something that would rather sit on the bottom of a lake or pond than expend the energy to come to the top to feed.

[2] Despite the number of women who fish, an unusually high number of YouTube content makers on the subject still happen to be men.

Is this ‘Pastoral’ Work?

            “Is this Pastoral work?” It’s a question that I can honestly say I’ve never been asked – at least directly. I think this is due in part to the awkwardness that accompanies such a pointed inquiry. Though not necessarily indicative of the intentions of the enquirer, it does seem to reflect a degree of distrust regarding the pastor’s judgement – something that increases the potential for strain in one of the most critical of a congregation’s relationships. It also comes with a risk – the risk that one will discover that the time, love, and attention granted to an individual by someone they’ve come to trust is being given only because that individual is being compensated for their effort.

            Despite these concerns, the question is a valid one. On the surface, it often looks like I’m really just a “paid Christian.” So what’s the difference between what a pastor does and the work of the average church volunteer? I could point out that pastors differ because of the nature of our Divine Call. Scripture indicates that God has granted each of us unique gifts with the intention that they be used for the betterment of the body of Christ (Romans 12:6-8; 1 Corinthians 12: 7-10, 28; Ephesians 4:11). In the case of a pastor, these include a capacity to preach, teach, administrate, counsel, and comfort (among others). It’s a whole suite of natural inclinations that prepare an individual to serve not just as a leader, but as a leader of God’s people.

I could also point out the extensive specialized training required to become a pastor. In the PC(USA) this includes three to four years of Grad School and multiple internships. This ensures that each minister has a deep enough knowledge of polity and theology (theoretically) to unite the congregation in the discernment and enactment of God’s will.

But this really doesn’t answer your question, does it. You already know this. What you really want to know is whether when I join you for dinner and we play checkers afterward, do I think of this time together as ‘work’? Do I count all of the time I spend praying or reading the Bible as pastoral hours? If I don’t – how do I know what is and what isn’t pastoral work?”

While you’re likely to hear different answers from different pastors, here is mine:

In general, there are two questions I ask as I approach any given task. The first is, Would I be doing this if I weren’t the pastor of this congregation? In some cases this is easy to answer. No, I wouldn’t spend the hours required each week to write the 8-10 page research paper you’ve come to know as the Sunday sermon. I wouldn’t be attempting to attend (let along offer meaningful guidance) to every church committee. And I certainly wouldn’t be trying to oversee the staff who ensure that the Music and Christian Ed departments function effectively, the building and property are well-maintained, or the bulletins get printed on time. I wouldn’t be asking for God’s guidance as I seek to resolve the challenges that face our congregation or pro-actively calling on individuals who I think may be in need. These tasks – all outlined in my formal Terms of Call – fall solidly in the category of ‘work’.

In other cases though, the answer isn’t quite this simple. The truth is that there are also tasks that I sometimes count as pastoral work that I would be doing – at least in their basic form – whether I was a pastor or not. I attend community events; I eat meals and socialize with congregants; I pray; I read Scripture. In these cases, there is a second criteria I use: Is the nature of this task significantly transformed by the fact that I am a pastor?

In my time here, I’ve made my way around town and it’s reaching a point where many folks recognize me. There are plenty of events or activities in which I would eagerly participate regardless of my position. That said, there are some which I attend because I’m the Pastor of our congregation. When I’m invited to speak or to pray as the pastor, am attending for the purpose of developing relationships between our congregation and the community at large, or at the request of members who have asked me to attend as the pastor – these events become work. To help congregants and others clearly identify that I’m “on duty”, you’ll generally find me wearing my collar rather than my street clothes.

The same principle applies to social invitations. If you’ve invited me to join you for some recreation or a meal because we get on well and we spend a few hours just enjoying each other’s company, that’s not work. On the other hand, if you invited me to dinner because I’m the pastor, if you want to chat about challenges the congregation is facing, or are seeking advice from me because you want the pastor’s opinion – well, that is. Sometimes this means that part of what I do when I’m spending time with you is work and part isn’t. Some of you have gotten quite adept at spotting the difference and I frequently hear the words, “I need you to put on your collar for a moment” from those who recognize that the time I spend performing these tasks does constitute the fulfillment of my formal Terms of Call.

This same principle applies to more mundane tasks as well. If I’m reading (even Scripture or an academic journal) for pure enjoyment or my own edification and relaxation, this isn’t work. On the other hand, if I’ve specially selected a passage, a book, a journal, or anything else because I’m actively seeking to improve my capacity to serve effectively alongside you with wisdom, creativity, and discernment – it is. If I’m reading something because I’m looking for answers that will inform my sermon, assist in answering the questions of my congregants (individually or collectively), or help to improve the functionality of our congregation – this is work. If I’m reading because a congregant has requested pastoral feedback on something they’ve read… also work.

As you can see, the answers to these questions provide a great deal of clarity when it comes to discerning which of my daily activities do or don’t fulfill my Terms of Call. But there’s one more question I want to answer before I conclude. This one is far more important than those I’ve answered above: When I’m sitting with you in my office, at your home, or by your hospital bed, when we’re on the phone together or e-mailing or texting – whenever I’m listening to your sorrows, holding your hand, caring for you in your trials – am I doing that just because I get paid?

The answer to this is a resounding, “No!” While like any first responder, I do get paid to be available to do this, the genuine love and affection I offer you is not for sale. This is not “just a job” to me and the emotions I express… those are the real deal. The tears I cry are there because I care about you and don’t want to see you suffer. The joy we share is from the genuine delight I feel over your successes. And I’d still love you and be glad to know you even if I weren’t your Pastor. Yes, there are some gray areas here and there, but this isn’t one of them.

Love Your Neighbor

Last month, I shared my commitment to avoid preaching politics from the pulpit. For some of you this was exciting news – you’ve had enough of ministers telling you how you ought to vote. For others, it was a bit confusing – isn’t this what a good “prophet” ought to be doing? In fact, to some it seems that this is exactly what Jesus was doing throughout most of his ministry! What could be more political than the commandment to “love your neighbor” (Mark 12:31)?

The truth is, our beliefs about Jesus’s teachings and their relationship to the political scene (both then and now) are often so strongly rooted that whether we lean liberal, conservative, or somewhere in between, it becomes difficult for us to read the biblical text without engaging a political lens. To illustrate, I once preached a sermon on the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Unlike most of my sermons in which I read the text, share some background, and move on to exposition, I determined to keep this one simple. I read the text and provided a bit of cultural background. Then I committed the sermon to God and sat down. I didn’t draw any cultural parallels or suggest ways to implement the teaching in our local community. I didn’t even tell my congregation what the text meant; I just read it.

The next day, I began receiving angry e-mails about my having preached a “political” sermon! Why? Because my listeners had grown so used to filtering sermons through the lens of their politics that they could no longer hear that Jesus was really trying to teach a lesson on morality.

There isn’t, of course, any question that personal morality and politics are intertwined or that a Christian’s personal morality should impact their politics. But it’s important to recognize that the fact that these two issues intersect at the center of our mental Venn Diagrams does not make them identical to one another.

So let’s start by taking a moment to define “politics.” The Oxford Languages Dictionary defines the term as “the activities associated with the governance of a country or other area, especially the debate or conflict among individuals or parties having or hoping to achieve power.” In other words, political activity is tied to the action of governments as they make broad policy decisions intended to bring about specific ends for stereotypical subsets of people, i.e., “minorities,” “immigrants,” “students,” “retirees,” etc.

As much as we condemn stereotyping, this isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s helpful to recognize the broad similarities across specific subsets of individuals – especially when doing so helps us to identify problems that need to be addressed. When I was in seminary, for example, I noticed that each student with disabilities was fighting an independent battle for reasonable accommodations. While a few students were meeting with success, the vast majority felt like they were losing. This was due in part to how overwhelmed the administration was trying to sort through everyone’s unique needs. In banding together, disabled students and their allies were able to identify some broadly shared requirements and bring actionable items before the board. (It turns out, for example, that one disabled parking slot is insufficient for a building in which eight students with mobility challenges are attempting to attend a single class.)

I mention this because I want to be clear that engagement in politics (the establishment of broad governing policies) isn’t a bad thing and can, when done prayerfully, be quite useful. But it’s also important to note (and here is where I get controversial): Jesus never engaged politics through his preaching.

That’s right. Though many of Jesus’ teachings have good applications in the political realm, they were never directed at the nation’s political leaders or intended to influence national policy. Jesus didn’t offer commentary on Caesar’s greed for power, Rome’s policies on slavery, or its use of torture to punish criminals (despite the fact that crosses with their suffocating victims were a common sight on the roads outside of occupied cities). Instead, he focused on developing the individual moral character of each of His disciples so that they in turn could engage these issues following His death, resurrection, and ascension into Heaven. His primary concern was not how His followers responded to or enacted policy but how they interacted with individuals relationally.

This may, in fact, shed significant light on how Jesus was able to attract disciples from such a broad variety of political perspectives to begin with.

• Matthew was a tax collector and in league with the empire.
• Simon was a Zealot, a member of a group that many felt bordered on a terrorist organization since it advocated the violent overthrow of the empire.
• James and John were faithful Jews awaiting the coming of the Messiah – a political leader who would establish a new, more peaceful empire.

Jesus’ teachings weren’t directed toward the empire. Of equal note, they weren’t directed toward the population at large either. Instead, His concern was the Jewish religious community. That’s right – those who professed faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and were struggling to figure out how to live that faith in a world in which God was not king and religious plurality was the norm.

I’d like to draw your attention back to the oft quoted “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Though in a present-day American political context this gets repeated with such fervency that it sounds like the first commandment, it isn’t. In fact, it’s the second. The first is to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30) – something that is extraordinarily difficult for a government (especially one that deliberately advocates for separation of church and state) to do. Yet as Christians, this first commandment is our primary call.

It is our morality as reflected in our individual relationships (first with God and then with others as individuals created in God’s image), not our politics – that defines us. Jesus was training His disciples to approach the rest of humanity not as stereotypical groups, but as individuals. And this is where things get sticky…

You see, politics will always be easier than relationship. This shouldn’t be surprising since the principles that govern our politics (regardless of which way we lean) allow us to quickly identify the chief needs of others and to have the proper response to those needs always at the ready. See a homeless woman holding a sign asking for money for food? A political response already knows her story and what she really needs – a better work ethic, training in financial management, a rehab program, maybe all three. Perhaps we’ll help her out (not her and not today, but someone else later) by advocating for tougher parenting, the addition of financial training to High School curriculum, or the establishment of better insurance options for addicts. We feel good about ourselves and say that we fulfilled Jesus’ command to “love our neighbor.” But have we really?

Remember that Good Samaritan mentioned earlier? If you’ve taken time to read the story, you know that when the Samaritan comes across this unnamed victim lying naked and beaten by the side of the road, he doesn’t hurry by thinking about the importance of advocating for better policing of Roman roads or the establishment of some new church program to clothe the naked. Instead, he stops and looks the dying man in the eye. He doesn’t know the whole story – whether the man who was beaten provoked the robbers to a confrontation, or whether he was the member of a rival faction – what he knows is that the man if left on his present course is going to die. And God (yes, Samaritans also worshipped the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) has commanded him to be a bringer of life. So he bandages the man’s wounds and delivers him to safety. Then he goes a bit beyond and provides a few resources to ensure that he’s not just delivered from the immediate threat of death, but that he has a chance at recovering a “normal” life.

And this, is what Jesus means when He tell us to “love our neighbor.” He isn’t talking about policies, but about persons. True love is rooted in relationship. As your pastor I care about how you do (or don’t) approach the homeless person in the parking-lot, the neighbor whose electricity just got shut off, or the overwrought mother in the grocery line; not because there is one “right” way to respond, but because there are a multitude, each one as different as the individuals involved. We will only know which one God is calling us to if we treat each encounter as its own and each individual as a unique creation of our God.

Politics from the Pulpit: Why I Refrain

September has arrived and a new election season will soon be upon us. In the midst of turmoil both at home and abroad, tensions are running high. With this in mind, I’d like to take a moment to share about my personal commitment to keeping politics out of the pulpit.

Over the years, I’ve seen too many congregations torn apart by political differences to feel that preaching my own politics (even though I believe them to be Biblically based and fully justified) is a good idea. The reason is simple: I know that you (whether you lean right, left, or somewhere in between) believe your politics to be Biblically based and fully justified as well. The temptation when hearing a politically infused sermon is to assume (especially when our views seem to be in direct opposition to one another) that one of us is right and the other is… well, wrong. It is easy for us to translate this sense of “rightness” or “wrongness” into a belief that we are being judged and (by and large) this sense of judgment leads to division and alienation. So I won’t be preaching my politics from the pulpit.

To some of you, it may sound as though my primary goal here is to avoid difficult issues or the need to take a stand. But this is hardly the case. Instead, I’m recognizing that our understanding of the Biblical text and its implications for our political actions are strongly influenced by a variety of factors – our religious upbringing, the culture(s) we were raised in or in which we currently reside, our socioeconomic status, our racial or ethnic backgrounds, even (at times) our mood on any given day. This doesn’t mean that there aren’t a few things that are “clearly right” or “clearly wrong,” but it does mean that when we start exploring the complex weavings of our political system, things tend to get a bit muddy. And this isn’t just because some of us are exposed to certain facts (or “facts”) that others aren’t. Our individual calls to discipleship can differ significantly in their focus – something that leads to our prioritization of certain issues in our decision-making processes.

In and of itself, this isn’t a bad thing. In 1 Corinthians 12, the Apostle Paul compares the Christian Church to a body. He observes that each of us has different God-given gifts all of which contribute to the body’s overall functionality. Though these gifts differ from one another, all of them are necessary for the fulfillment of Christ’s mission. For one part of the body to tell another “I don’t need you” is simply foolishness.

“Yes,” I can hear you saying, “but Paul is talking about the gifts of teaching and preaching, of hospitality and generosity. He isn’t talking about the idiot on the other end of my pew who is voting for that person.”

You would, of course, be right. Paul knew nothing of the twenty-first century American pollical landscape. But it’s worth noting that not all of these gifts for ministry (though they may be similar) are exercised the same way. Why? Because the individuals exercising these gifts come from different backgrounds and perspectives. There is a right side to the body and a left side – each a mirror image of the other. And while most of us have a hand on either side, those hands don’t always work equally well when it comes to performing the tasks assigned to them.

We’ve all experienced this practical aspect of “body mechanics” at some point in our lives. Ever dropped something behind the couch and need to reach into that narrow crack between the furniture and the wall to retrieve it? Perhaps you noticed that though you have two hands, one seems to have a bit more reach than the other. It’s the same with the Body of Christ. There are people lost and floundering, unaware that the love of God is being offered to them. Some are lost in places where only those Christians on the political Left will be able to reach them. Others will only ever connect with Christians on the political Right. To fulfill Christ’s mission and reach all who are lost, we need both arms.

It’s also worth noting that while the differences between our arms sometimes puts them in direct opposition to one another, this isn’t always a bad thing. We’ve all had experiences in which the only way to move a large object or hold something steady is to put one hand on one side, another hand on the other, and push both hands hard against one another. The tension created by this is necessary in order to get the job done. Too much pressure from one hand and the object topples. Too little from the other and it tumbles from our grasp. Balance the conflict between them and the mission gets accomplished.

As your pastor, I’m committed to doing everything within my power to help maintain this balance. While I do have my own political views (some of them quite strong), my primary call as a member of Christ’s Body is to help the other members grow closer to God and to one another. This call takes precedence over my personal political opinions. My charge is to be a safe space where all of you can come to express your hopes and fears and to help you evaluate how those are impacting your development as disciples of Jesus Christ. Are you growing in faith, hope, and love? Are you treating others with mercy and compassion? Are you forgiving as you have been forgiven? If you are, we will find unity even in the midst of our diversity.