Scriptures for Sunday, March 31, 2019
(Fourth Sunday in Lent)
Psalm 32
Joshua 5:9-12
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

This coming Sunday, we plan to receive the annual One Great Hour of Sharing offering (“OGHS”).  One Great Hour of Sharing is the special mission offering of the United Church of Christ that carries God’s message of love and hope to people in crisis.  The UCC works with international partners to provide sources of clean water, food, education and health care, small business micro-credit, advocacy and resettlement for refugees and displaced persons, and emergency relief and rehabilitation.  OGHS also supports domestic and international ministries for disaster preparedness and response. 
Several Christian denominations— American Baptist Church, Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), Church of the Brethren,  the United Church of Christ, and Church World Service— work together to develop common promotional materials, thereby sharing ideas, costs, and a commitment to faithful service.  Each denomination receives and manages its respective OGHS offering.
60% of the UCC's offering supports international development initiatives, including annual support for missionaries.  Currently, we support two OGHS missionaries and one Global Mission Intern working in disaster relief, health care, education, sustainable agricultural development, and refugee support.  The OGHS offering also funds disaster preparedness and response, and disaster-related volunteer initiatives within the U.S.
On average, of every dollar given to OGHS, 95 cents is used directly for mission programming and 5 cents for interpretation materials.  The associated administrative costs are paid from gifts to Our Church's Wider Mission (“OCWM”) National Basic Support, which is a different annual offering.
Today, with flooding and cyclones and numerous other disasters in the news, your past gifts to One Great Hour of Sharing are already in use with recovery work following Cyclone Idai in southeastern Africa.  There, the UCC has begun its early response and planning for recovery with partners.  Thus far, $9,000 has been provided for Cyclone Idai early relief work, which will include water, food, temporary shelter, psychosocial needs, basic household goods, and medicine/medical needs.     And in the United States’ Upper Midwest, in the aftermath of the “bomb cyclone” of heavy snows and rains, again, your gifts to OGHS are already at work.  As communities begin to assess needs, UCC Disaster Ministries is working to support local UCC congregations in their response, and has already provided $6,000 to local UCC Food Pantries.  This early financial support to communities is made possible through giving to the OGHS Emergency Relief Fund.  UCC Disaster Ministries’ strength and focus remains on supporting long-term recovery work, which is the costliest and most under-served phase after a disaster.  And these are only two examples of a comprehensive, worldwide mission.
In recent times, our giving through the United Church of Christ adds up to more than $2 million per year.
Check out the depth of this program at
www.ucc.org/oghs
And please make plans to give generously.
                                   †                 †                 †
 
[God says to us, ]
I will instruct you and teach you
the way you should go;
I will counsel you with My eye upon you.
Do not be like a horse or a mule,
without understanding,
    whose temper must be curbed
with bit and bridle,
else it will not stay near you.
                                           - Psalm 32:8 – 9
In preparation for worship this coming Sunday, I realized that we will need to deal with the concepts of the “bounded set” and the “centered set.”
One illustration of the “bounded set” is sheep in a pen: the wall or fence is there to keep the sheep inside and to keep any predators out.
One illustration of the “centered set” is a lamp and moths: the moths are attracted to the light, and they can approach it, stay beside it, or go away from it as they wish.
When we humans think about God, church, politics, and other important subjects, our notions of “bounded set” and “centered set” come into play.  Some of us prefer to keep things informal; to come and go freely.  Some of us prefer to draw bright lines, to make sure who is “in” and who is “out.”
I once was lost, but now am found...

https://www.huntington.org/verso/2018/08/wearin%E2%80%99-o%E2%80%99-blue

If you look closely,you’ll see that St. Patrick’s walking-stick is poking a hole
in the king’s foot!  
Historian Mary Robertson, a curator at the museum where this 13th Century
manuscript is preserved, explains that this is the scene when Patrick and the King first met.  “According to tradition, St. Patrick later asked the king why he didn’t cry out when his foot was accidentally pierced.  The king replied that he thought being silent was a sign of Christian forbearance.”    He was “turning the other foot” !
Which of us would sit still for such an injury ?

† In our memorial service for Vada Hensley on Sunday afternoon, I meant to tell everyone how vividly she remembered her years of raising funds to build the bell-tower at Mt. Zion Church, where she was a member until 1949.  Vada led her friends in soliciting contributions door-to-door, as well as grabbing any opportunity to set up a bake-sale or a food stand at auctions or anyplace people would gather.  They got ‘r’ dun !  She was a real entrepreneur on behalf of her church !
~~~
One thing I like about reading a daily devotional article is becoming aware of points of view and ways of thinking that are quite unlike my own.  When I read this StillSpeaking Daily Devotional message on February 25, I thought, This would be a good item to share during Lent, when there is so much emphasis on guilt and repentance.

“Trading Guilt for Grace”
My guilt has overwhelmed me
        like a burden too heavy to bear.
                                               - Psalm 38:4
I miss a deadline.  Instead of asking for an extension, I ghost* the editor.
I forget I have plans with someone.  Or I forget to return the call of an old friend or a family member. Instead of sending a quick "I'm sorry," I avoid them.  And then stare at their Facebook page wondering if they hate me.
I roll over from a nap to see that the event I really wanted to attend already started.  Instead of regrouping and finding a way to go anyway, I burst into tears and go back to sleep.
My guilt complex is so destructive.  It consumes me to the point of irrationality.  And in that irrational place, I make even more decisions that make me feel even guiltier.
It's a cycle that's seemingly impossible to end.
Breaking my guilt cycle requires something I'm not that good at doing— admitting I'm human.  Admitting that sometimes, I let people down and sometimes, I let myself down.  Admitting that I overestimate what I can do or how much time I have to do it.
When I recognize my humanity, I feel vulnerable.  And that vulnerability reminds me that I'm not in control, a reminder I fear more than anything.
My guilt masks tender parts of me I'm not always ready to reveal— the parts of me that need forgiveness and affirmation on my worst days.  The parts of me that long to know I don't need to be perfect to be worthy of love and care.
The parts of me that want to be enough, even on the days it doesn't feel possible.
 
Prayer: Divine One, extend your grace to me and help me extend that same grace to myself.  Amen.
 
About the Author
Marchaé Grair is the Director of Public Relations and Outreach for the Unitarian Universalist Association and a member of South Euclid United Church of Christ, South Euclid, Ohio.
 
* “ghost” – I had to learn what this means.  Have you heard it used this way?  It’s when one refuses to answer calls, text messages, emails, or any other communication: one vanishes— like a ghost.

[Paul writes, ]
Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me,
   and observe those who live
      according to the example you have in us. 
For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ;
   I have often told you of them,
      and now I tell you even with tears. 
Their end is destruction;
   their god is the belly;
      and their glory is in their shame;
         their minds are set on earthly things. 
But our citizenship is in heaven,
   and it is from there
      that we are expecting a Savior,
         the Lord Jesus Christ.  
He will transform the body of our humiliation
   that it may be conformed
      to the body of his glory,
           by the power that also enables him
to make all things subject to himself.
- Philippians 3:17-21
 
In this passage, Paul warns us about “enemies of the cross of Christ”— which suggests that he is a friend of the cross of Christ.  What a weird notion!  If you think about it, it’s kind of like being a “fan of the electric chair,” or a “gas-chamber enthusiast,” or a “lethal injection fancier.”  Only two thousand or so years of numbing by constant exposure to Christian language could make this idea seem normal.  In fact, we readers are supposed to recognize the weirdness of loving an instrument of execution.  Paul understands full well what he is saying: only when our world-view has turned upside-down will we decide that a wooden pole that was used to kill those whom the worldly authorities condemn is somehow a good thing.
The way Paul describes the “enemies of the cross of Christ” shows us the “normal-side-up” point of view:  normal people focus on down-to-earth matters; we get very excited about personal, private affairs that we would be embarrassed if the general public knew; and we pay an awful lot of attention to food and eating and our “gut” feelings.  When Paul says that “Their end is destruction,” he means that “normal” people are living a life that is strictly  temporary: the things they value are things that will rot, compost, disintegrate, decompose... and then what will be left of the people whose lives have been all about these temporary things ?  “Nothing,” Paul says.
When he says that “our citizenship is in heaven,” Paul is looking at his own Roman citizenship, which was a very highly prized honor in his day, and he is saying, “Thanks anyway— I’m emigrating to a better place.” 
When he discusses his “citizenship in heaven,” Paul is also looking at his identity as a pure-blooded member of the children of Israel.  Earlier in Philippians 3, he gave the proud details of his pedigree, but then he said, Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ.  More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.  For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him….  I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.
 
As modern-day followers of Jesus, we find it easy and pleasant to stand in church and sing sweet songs about loving The Old Rugged Cross.  I rather think that old Paul would throw a fit if he were to walk in on us— because his notion of being a “friend of the cross” was all about personally enduring suffering to imitate Jesus.  Paul’s rugged point-of-view was upside-down to our comfortable Christianity.
Much of what we are currently promoting for the season of Lent is designed to turn our normal, worldly point-of-view upside-down.  Where we normally enjoy comfort, Lent invites us to self-denial.  Where we normally spend our time, money, and effort on getting material things for ourselves, Lent invites us to spend ourselves for, and give things away to, those in need.  These forty days leading up to Good Friday and Easter are intended to turn us from being “enemies of the cross of Christ” to being ready to embrace not just the mysterious and precious cross of Christ but our own self-sacrifice, our own journey through death into new life.

SCRIPTURES for

SUNDAY, MARCH 10
Psalm 99
Exodus 34:29-35
2 Corinthians  3:12 – 4:2
Luke 9:28-43
 
Ash Wednesday: March 6
Isaiah 58:1-12
Psalm 51
2 Corinthians 5:20 – 6:10
Matthew 6:1-6 – 16-21
 
First Sunday in Lent
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Psalm 91
Romans 10:8-13
Luke 4:1-13

I am sad that we did not meet for worship, this Sunday.  No matter which Sunday we miss, I wouldn’t like it.  Missing this one leads to a few challenging choices.
March 3rd was Transfiguration Sunday, and it marks the transition into the season of Lent.  Lent begins this week, between our pancake supper on Tuesday and our Ash Wednesday service.  But I am inclined to go ahead with an observance of Transfiguration Sunday on March 10th, because I feel it’s important to see Christ in the light of his glory, and ourselves as little lights reflecting his glory, before we begin the Lenten trek toward the Cross... and Easter, which follows.
(Spoiler alert: ) If we had met for worship yesterday, I intended to lead the children and the congregation in singing ‘This Little Light of Mine’ during the Children’s Message.  Since we didn’t meet on March 3rd, we will probably sing it next Sunday instead.  And it seems that Rev. John Edgerton, Associate Pastor at Old South Church in Boston, Massachusetts, was thinking something similar.  Here is his StillSpeaking Daily Devotional piece, published on Sunday morning:
Moses came down from Mount Sinai.
As he came down from the mountain with
  the two tablets of the covenant in his hand,
  Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses.
And the skin of his face was shining,
  and they were afraid to come near him.
                                           – Exodus 34:29-30
‘This Little Light of Mine’ can be a little bit like cotton candy.  Sweet and fluffy and perfectly nice... in small quantities.  But when one's daughter requests the [world-famous recording artist known for children’s music] Raffi version for the 12th time in row?  One could be forgiven for pining for the days a cassette could be flung out the window of a moving car.
But ‘This Little Light of Mine’ was not always kids' stuff.
In the hands of Fannie Lou Hamer, ‘This Little Light of Mine’ was a rallying cry, a battle flag flying in the winds of the Civil Rights movement.  She organized, marched and fought for voting rights—all with songs on her lips and scripture in her heart.  She let her light shine. 
And because she let her light shine, Fannie Lou Hamer was threatened, harassed, and shot at.  
Because here's the thing.  When someone lets the light of God shine through them, it can make people afraid.  The Israelites were afraid when they saw Moses' face shining— even though it was the light of God.  And people were afraid when they saw Fannie Lou Hamer's light shining— even though it was the light of God.
Go ahead and sing ‘This Little Light of Mine.’  Just please know, if you sing it like Fannie Lou Hamer, it can be the beginning of holy trouble.
 
Prayer:  God give me the courage to be a vessel for Your light, a channel for Your grace, a laborer in the vineyard of Your peaceable Realm.
 
Read StillSpeaking Daily Devotionals for free:
                          http://www.ucc.org/daily_devotional
 
I find it fitting that Rev. Edgerton combines the theme of ‘the light of God’ with the theme of ‘holy trouble,’ because that’s where we are in our church year: the brilliant light of the transfigured Christ goes with us down into the valley of the shadow of death and to the wilderness, for the season called Lent which begins this week.
Lent is based on Jesus Christ’s time in the wilderness, forty days of fasting and struggling against the devil.  Before Jesus began his ministry, he was led by the Spirit in the wilderness (Luke 4:1).  Like Fannie Lou Hamer and countless Christians through the ages, Jesus demonstrated that God’s way leads through the valley of the shadow to higher ground.  Jesus’ example goes counter to the belief of many who try to maintain that Christianity means we never stop smiling and enjoying worldly pleasures.  During this holy season, we deliberately deny ourselves to follow Jesus more nearly.
One joy during Lent is fellowship with others who are following Jesus.  On Thursdays at Noon, we plan to meet in area churches for prayer.
Another joy during this holy season is that the Sundays are considered “feast days.”  So we will also meet in area churches on Sunday evenings for simple meals and programs distinctive to each congregation.
... the same Lord is Lord of all
                        and is generous to all who call on Him.
                                             - Romans 10:12

SCRIPTURES for SUNDAY, MARCH 3
Psalm 99
Exodus 34:29-35
2 Corinthians  3:12 – 4:2
Luke 9:28-43

[A]ll of us,
with unveiled faces,
seeing the glory of the Lord
as though reflected in a mirror,
are being transformed into the same image
from one degree of glory to another;
for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.
                                            - 2 Corinthians 3:18
This about does it, for this year’s extraordinarily long season of Epiphany.  When Easter comes as late as it possibly can, it’s only possible to have two more Sundays in Epiphany than we’re having this year.  This Sunday, the last Sunday of the season, is Transfiguration Sunday.  Epiphany began with the visit of the magi to the child Jesus.  Each Sunday since then, we have dealt with Scriptures and themes that speak to the ways God is “showing up” or manifest in our experience. 
 
This past Sunday, we heard Jesus tell us disciples to “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” (Luke 6:36)  Jesus tells us to love our enemies and to give freely to anyone who asks.  As I hear this, I think, Wow!  If we humans actually treated each other with such godly mercy, we would really see God “showing up” among us.  If we actually did this, we would truly manifest the presence of God.  But immediately I also think, This would take a major miracle.
The Transfiguration story, which we will hear this Sunday from Luke’s gospel, shows us Jesus praying on a mountaintop, glowing with heavenly light.  The greatest of the prophets, Moses the Lawgiver and Elijah, appear and talk to Jesus.  Then we hear once again the Voice that spoke at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my Son, My Chosen; listen to him!”  [Some ancient versions say “My Beloved” rather than “My Chosen.” ] 
Matthew, Mark, and Luke report that Jesus’ disciples were terrified by this experience.  Matthew and Mark tell how Jesus’ disciple Peter began running off at the mouth because he was so frightened.  Matthew says that Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  So we see that the experience of Jesus in all his supernatural brilliance is not a tame thing: it frightens humans to witness it.
 
Like the bright star over Bethlehem that attracted the magi, the glowing Transfiguration scene shows us Who God is:  Jesus.  When we get into the nitty-gritty of these two stories, though, we find a lot of ugly, human realities in the shadows around all that brilliant light.
In the story of the magi, remember that the strange foreigners we call “the wise men” came asking for “the king of the Jews” at Jerusalem, which triggered wicked old King Herod to plot the death of all the little boys.  And the angels had to warn the magi and Joseph to get out of town without informing King Herod.  So Jesus and his family became refugees, crossing the border to escape.  What we have here is God’s brilliance showing up in a dark and murderous mess.  The brightness of Jesus and the dark background are both very real.
 
In the story of Jesus’ Transfiguration on the mountaintop, notice that it occurs very soon after Jesus told his disciples that he was turning to go to Jerusalem, where he “must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”  And then Jesus told them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”  (Luke 9:22-23).  After hearing this— and trying to imagine what on earth Jesus might mean by those dramatic, foreboding words— then the disciples go up the mountain to see Jesus revealed in supernatural glory.  And then they troop back down the mountain to face difficulties, negativity, failures, and eventually Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion at Jerusalem.  Valleys of gloom and grit, with one bright peak between them!
One lesson I draw from the season of Epiphany is that ours is a very dark world indeed, where the light of God is manifest in ways that surprise or shock us humans.  Even when God’s light shines very bright, the shadows are still scary.  But God keeps on showing up.
The hardest lesson of Epiphany is that God wants you and me, as disciples of Jesus, to be light in this too-often-gloomy world.  Thank God, He gives us the light.                        
​Since it is by God's mercy
          that we are engaged in this ministry,
                    we do not lose heart.
                                          - 2 Corinthians 4:1