Growling

Sometimes my ideas are brilliant. 

Sleeping in a hammock in below freezing temperatures was not one of them.

I took a gaggle of girls out to a cabin and thought I would get more sleep in my cool camping hammock instead of a cabin filled with giggling. 

I was wrong.

It was almost warm and the moon streaming through the mesh top was amazing, but I ended up freezing my aspirations off. I drifted in and out of sleep curled up in a tiny ball until around 3:30 am when I awoke to this terrible growling right near me. 

There is a moment, if you ever happen to be freezing and terrified, when you appreciate the warmth adrenaline pumping through your body provides. I could stay completely still and warm while imagining that I must appear a bit like a floating burrito to whatever creature was emitting such an ominous sound.

Options are slim when you're hanging in the air and something is growling. I could picture the wolf underneath me wishing he had a side of guacamole and some cheese. I played through all the scenarios and none of them turned out well until my stomach growled again.

I felt slightly ridiculous, but also much more motivated to go curl up in the cabin with the girls. 

One growling experience a week would seem like enough, but then on Friday I worked too long and hiked accidentally in the dark. Our daylight is changing at 6 minutes a day right now so it's hard to track until you are well into the woods and realize you can't see anymore.

It wasn't a big deal. I figured I could get a little further and then make my way to the beach area where it was still a little light.

Then, the dog stops and there is growling again. I couldn't tell if it was coming from her or from near us, but she was scared and I might have piddled a little. 

I again started running scenarios and one of them involved me running, but unless the growling was a rabid sloth I wasn't going to win a foot race. I could probably fight off whatever it is with the poop bag in my hand, but I'm thinking this would not turn out well in the dark.

So, we bushwhack through the woods towards the beach hoping for the best. Nothing got us and we made good time back. 

There are several takeaways from these growling experiences:
1. Don't eat Indian when camping.
2. Wear a watch or at least be aware of when it gets dark.
3. Growling does not produce rational thought or responses. 

I think this last one might be helpful for all of us as we interact with each other. Growling does not make people their most rational. In fact, growling mixed with fear can make us quite absurd and as fun as that is, it doesn't make for good decisions. 

Budget

An open letter to our governor:

Dear Governor Dunleavy;

I want to honor you for being a man of faith and I know seeing all life as sacred is close to your heart. I’m not Catholic, but as a Lutheran pastor, my Catholic colleagues are some of my closest in appreciating the centrality of the eucharist and the community of faith.

There is a Bible verse that keeps popping in my head as I toss and turn thinking about the proposed budget cuts:

Romans 15:1-2   We who are strong ought to put up with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Each of us must please our neighbor for the good purpose of building up the neighbor.

The image of building up the neighbor is central to living out my faith in Christ and central to creating a community where life can be affirmed and encouraged.

I spend large amounts of time with those of my neighbors who carry heavy burdens, some are Native Alaskans who fear getting cut off from their land and village, some are families who are homeless, some are those weighed down by addictions, health issues, and hunger. I also spend time with those who work in resource extraction, those who serve as police, and those who rely on PFDs. 

These relationships make me realize there aren’t easy answers to solve the fiscal challenges in Alaska, but there are destructive choices that do not build up our neighbor. 

Cuts to education, Medicare, senior services, criminal justice, Department of Law, access to transportation and energy for rural Alaska, public assistance, and veterans lead to greater burdens on those who are already weighed down heavily.

I realize you are probably getting all kinds of comments regarding the budget, but as a person of faith I have been thinking some about your statement in an interview where you said, "I’m a small-government guy and I’m an individual — I believe in the individual.” I too believe in the worth of every person and the uniqueness of our gifts, but the communion of God is the core of my faith. We are called to use our worth and our gifts for the building up of the neighbor. We are the body and blood of Christ alive in this world and this budget does not reflect that life.

Peace,

Rev. Tari Stage-Harvey

Army Crawl

This might be blasphemy, but the other day I quoted

a distortion of scripture.

As I was doing an army crawl though the chicken run to smash down the snow with my body, I kept quoting, "No greater love has a woman for her chickens than to lay down her life for them." It made me laugh and a little less resentful of what we do to get two fresh eggs a day.

I rarely quote the Bible for a couple of reasons.

1. I'm lazy about memorizing it.

2. Our Lutheran tradition teaches us to read large chunks in context. 

Memorizing proof texts to win an argument and validate an agenda is frowned upon as contrary to the good news of God's kingdom. One can use Biblical texts to promote a range of moral and social agendas; the entire political spectrum has used Christian scripture to justify their plans and that makes me nervous.

I do love Jesus. I love how no one knows quite what to do with him. He keeps loving the unlovable, scolding the successful, feeding the hungry, and touching the dehumanized until folks finally kill him. It's dangerous when people don't know what to do with you and you keep messing with expectations. 

That's when my misquote shows up. In John 15, Jesus says, "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you."

We are friends of Jesus when we love as we are loved. So the question those who wish to befriend Jesus need to ask is, "how did Jesus love?" 

I like to think he loved a bit like I love my chickens. 

• He tried to remove obstacles so people could live and offer the gifts they have to the community. 
• He fed and tended people.
• He sometimes shook his head when people got lost in the yard and tried to sleep in the cold rather than allowing themselves to be gathered and put back in the coop.
• He scolded them when they were stubborn and doing something not in their best interest (like jumping in the neighbor's yard or road).
• He carried them across the snow because they didn't like the cold on their feet.

All right. Maybe it breaks down. I'd say there is a lot more mutuality of relationship between Jesus and people, but my chickens do bring me great delight and they are amazing conversationalists. I wouldn't die for my chickens, but crawling through a tiny tunnel full of snow and some eau de chicken is close.

Forgive

I'm feeling vexed by the governor of our great state so I went for an especially long walk on an exceptionally gorgeous day thinking that would help me get into a benevolent place. 

It didn't. 

I was still lecturing and yelling in my head at him and his sidekick so I'm going to let that sit for a while. I'm trying to find a perspective on his budget proposal that keeps him human and I'm not there yet. 

I was going to remember Thumper's adage "if you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all" (not to criticize Thumper, but it is a double negative and if I remember right he gets eaten in Bambi). 

Anyway, I'm not sure I'll cling to Thumper's advice, but I would agree that if I can't say something that builds up the community, then it's best to pray a little longer before saying anything. 

It's so easy to judge and condemn. It's so easy to imagine I'm right and on moral high ground without hearing other valid opinions. I'm still in the easy place where I could deliver quite the diatribe on the diabolical budget laid out so I will be quiet and I'm going to preach my sermon from yesterday again to myself and maybe this time I'll listen. 

Text: Luke 6:27-38 and Joseph

Title: Forgive

Date: February 24, 2019

How do we forgive? It is at the very core of our identity as Christians and yet throughout the ages we have often been quick to judge or quick to ignore or blame or retaliate. How do we forgive? Especially if we have faced betrayals by family like Joseph, dropped into a well, abandoned as a slave, despised by jealous siblings. How do they forgive him for still coming out ahead, succeeding, being chosen, toying with them in the midst of a famine. Jesus cranks it up even more. How do we love enemies? Especially when Jesus talks about being struck in the cheek and we must face the staggering statistics in Alaska. Our child abuse rate is 6 times the national average and around 50% of adult women have experienced violence by an intimate partner. 

Christianity does not condone abuse or invite you to remain in an unsafe relationships or situation. You may always come speak to myself or I can point you to someone. Forgiveness is not about silence or shame or blaming oneself for what others have done to you. I think that is important to say when we read these passages. And statistically chances are some of you are abusive, the church isn’t magic, it doesn’t solve all of our power and control issues and please know there are places where you too can speak the truth - we call it confession and it is part of forgiveness.

That’s the big stuff, but how do we forgive the irritations and annoyances of a day? How do we forgive when others do not measure up to what we dreamed they would be or even what we need? How do we forgive the countless little betrayals and disappointments of a lifetime?

I don’t know. There’s some stuff on line with anywhere from 5 to 20 steps, but I’m not so sure Jesus is all that concerned about the how because that is different for each of us. The how may get played out in a million little awkward steps or one giant burst of truth that opens the door enough for life to be restored or a letter written or a prayer said. 

Jesus doesn’t talk about the hows, we see it in his life where he continues to eat with and engage enemies and friends alike, he speaks truth, he is vulnerable and yet able to have boundaries when he needs to pray or grieve, but mostly his how is about letting go of his right to vengeance. He stops the cycle of violence by refusing to participate and retaliate. He breaks to bonds of sin by refusing to play the power and control games. He absorbs the violence, the sin, the hate of the world and calls it finished. The end. Done. 

But, I’m not actually as interested in the hows of forgiveness. The only thing I can offer is it starts being steeped in your identity as a beloved child of God who can risk speaking truth and then you improvise from there. But I do think we need to be reminded of the whys. 

We are called to forgive for many reasons. Forgiveness is an act of power, or better yet it is the act of removing the power someone else has on your life. It is the boldness to declare that neither the abuser, the enemy, the bully, the friend, the parent, the brother or sister gets to identify and claim us. We are God’s beloved children and we may stand boldly in the face of messes without jumping into the cycle. We may stand with Christ in the cross insisting on love instead of retaliating.

Forgiveness is also the path that keeps us from crucifying each other with the thousand judgments and condemnations we make. People mess us, we mess up; I do like my little plaque that says, “don’t judge someone just because they sin differently than you.” It’s not your job to judge. It is hard to live in the truth and freedom of the Gospel when we are continually measuring, criticizing and dismissing ourselves and others.

I was reading some on forgiveness and ended up finding this article from Entertainment Weekly 2011 on the back of your bulletin. I’m going to read the last two paragraphs because I think it is a powerful statement as we talk about forgiveness. At least, I think it is a good beginning for conversation.

During Downey Jr.’s acceptance speech, he had even kinder words for Gibson. “I asked Mel to present this award for me for a reason,” he said. “When I couldn’t get sober, he told me not to give up hope and encouraged me to find my faith. It didn’t have to be his or anyone else’s as long as it was rooted in forgiveness. And I couldn’t get hired, so he cast me in the lead of a movie that was actually developed for him. He kept a roof over my head and food on the table and most importantly he said if I accepted responsibility for my wrongdoing and embraced that part of my soul that was ugly — hugging the cactus he calls it — he said that if I hugged the cactus long enough, I’d become a man.”

He continued, “I did and it worked. All he asked in return was that someday I help the next guy in some small way. It’s reasonable to assume at the time he didn’t imagine the next guy would be him or that someday was tonight. So anyway on this special occasion and in light of the recent holidays including Columbus Day, I would ask that you join me, unless you are completely without sin in which case you picked the wrong %&#*ing industry, in forgiving my friend his trespasses and offering him the same clean slate you have me, allowing him to continue his great and ongoing contribution to our collective art without shame. He’s hugged the cactus long enough.”

Maybe that is an image to sit with as we talk about forgiving family, loving enemies, do not judge and you will not be judged. Hugging the cactus, in ourselves, in our relationships, that seems like some of what Jesus might have meant when he talks about taking up our cross. Forgiveness is messy, we follow a crucified and risen lord, who promised abundant life not an easy chair.

Dirt

In case you were worried, I did get a "female portable urinating device" for my birthday. 

I'm not going to put it in the InstantPot category (things I think I want and never use), but I must confess it isn't as obvious or as easy as I imagined. I need a little more practice before I take it out in public.

My highlight so far was strapping it to my head after I opened it and making all kinds of inappropriate jokes. I wonder sometimes what my children will remember about their childhood.

A really big book from Sophie

One of my favorite birthday rituals at our place, besides amazing cakes, is when we go around the table and talk about how the birthday person has blessed us. It still makes me smile to replay the comments of "you fill our lives with laughter and love" and "you help us make memorable stories." It's a beautiful ritual and I cherish it because I can get wrapped up in all my crabby moments, regrets, and mistakes. 

I do think it's important to be self-aware and receive criticism. Theater taught me long ago that we need healthy criticism to grow as people. 

But there is an equal gift in learning how to receive affirmations. It's enough to smile and treasure compliments without trying to diminish or dismiss them. 

Humility is not belittling one's own worth, but recognizing what grounds you. Humility comes from the root "humus" - the ground, the dirt. 

There are so many images in the church around dirt. 

-God playing in the dirt creating humanity and breathing life into creation. 

-Ash Wednesday with the ashes placed on foreheads reminding ourselves we are dust and to dust we shall return. 

-Gravesides where a handful of dirt is thrown in and the words, "In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to almighty God our sister and we commit her body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

Humility is not about insulting yourself or questioning your worth; it's about recognizing the fleeting gift of life, your lack of control over so much of it, and the freedom of being loved and loving well. 

Pride is thinking you are or should be in charge; humility is releasing the control and living with the trust that love is eternal. 

So, the next time someone says you look good with a female portable urinating device strapped to you head, you simply smile and say thank you.

Alaska

My favorite part of serving as a chaplain in the Legislature is getting to park in the fire escape where there are large signs saying, "NO PARKING." I did get booted once when I drove Rusty, the little truck aptly named, but I love that I'm following directions and breaking rules all at one time. Life is such a paradox.

I also have a soft spot in my heart for politicians. It is not an easy vocation and I respect the work they are called to do. I'm trying not to label people as idiots no matter how destructive I think their arrogance and narrow minded agendas are. Name calling is not helpful, but praying is, so that's what I try to do.

Prayer humanizes and connects; it helps us recognize our limits and release some control.

Alaska is feeling a little chaotic so I leaned heavily on other people's words for prayers this year. The pressure is particularly high and I'm pretty sure they are refusing to heat the House chambers until they organize.

It's a privilege to live in this state that often takes my breath away and so I'm thankful for the opportunity to invite God's love and grace into our state's discernment process.

Wednesday's prayer:

I offer the following prayer of reconciliation based on the Celtic Book of Prayer

Lord, 

let our memory 

provide no shelter

for grievance against each other

Lord, 

let our heart

provide no harbor

of rancor for each other

Lord,

let our tongue

be no accomplice

in the judgment of each other

Let us be ambassadors of reconciliation, seeking a way of integrity and justice together. And if we cannot work together, then at least give us humor and goodwill towards one another.

And Friday's prayer:

Today, 141 years ago, Martin Buber, one of the great Jewish thinkers was born so I offer his poem as part of our prayer.

 We cannot avoid

Using power,
Cannot escape the compulsion
To afflict the world,

So let us, cautious in diction

And mighty in contradiction,

Love powerfully.

-Martin Buber (1926)

Open our hearts to love not as a fuzzy feeling, but as a commitment to defend the humanity in ourselves and others

Open our eyes to see the gifts in others as well as the blind spots in ourselves

Open our hands so we don’t cling tightly to power and control but reach out for help and guidance

Help us to love powerfully. To use our influence in this world so all creation might live in Your fullness.

Nihilism

Nihilism frightens me more than the prospect of falling off the ice cliff today that I crossed on my hands and knees. That was pretty.

I'm not anxious about atheism. I do find crusading atheism as annoying as any crusading belief, especially when there is so much certainty. Humility and mystery are helpful when trying to imagine the complexity of existence and meaning.

I've had some lovely conversations talking about what gods we don't believe in and what stories give coherence and meaning to our lives. I'm not in charge of saving people, just loving them.

I'm personally invested in the story of Jesus who healed, loved, forgave and fed; he died and left the tomb empty so we may trust love is not defeated even in death. There are nuances, but that's the basic story of my faith and I concur with Dostoevsky when he wrote

 “If someone proved to me that Christ is outside the truth and that in reality the truth were outside of Christ, then I should prefer to remain with Christ rather than with the truth.”

Nihilism frightens me because I see more folks embracing this negation of value, meaning or truth in life. There is no coherent narrative so no truth or action is preferable to another; utter destruction tends to be the mode of operating since nothing matters. Everything is fake.

Albert Camus (1913-1960 existentialist writer who defined himself as not believing in God, but not an atheist) was terrified of nihilism and wrote, "Nihilism is not only despair and negation, but, above all, the desire to despair and to negate.” 

Keep your ears open for this creeping nihilism. I do find it is one of those places where I have to plant my feet squarely and say I do not agree. There is value, truth, and meaning in life and in love. I'm not overly worried if we disagree on how we define god, but I get anxious when all existence is negated as meaningless.

And these were my calming thoughts as I crawled across the ice. It could be worse.