Discovering God in Silence

Mark 9:2-9

“Discovering God in Silence”

        In church language, we call the Sunday before Lent, The Transfiguration of our Lord.  This strange word comes from the mysterious story that I just told the children.  It is a story about the sudden appearance of two ancient heroes.  It is a story of a revelation concerning the identity of Jesus.  It is a story that leads to the phrase “mountain top experience”.  But first and foremost it is a story that reminds us that when we are in the presence of God, we are reduced to silence.

        The Ft. Davis Mountains are one of the oldest mountain ranges in North America.  I have been told they are actually the southern tip of the Appalachians, which makes no sense to me but then I am not an archeologist.  The Ft. Davis Mountains are located in Texas, west of Ft. Stockton and south of I-10.  For about 10 days in the month of April the Ft. Davis Mountains are one of the prettiest places in the world.  The spring flowers of Texas shower those mountains with every color imaginable.  But for the other 355 days it is a stark reminder of how desolate this world can be.

        In the midst of the Ft. Davis Mountains there is a conference center called Prude Ranch.  It is a working ranch, complete with horses and cows.    Once in the spring and once in the fall, the Presbytery of Tres Rios would rent the ranch to hold week-end youth retreats.  Twice a year, I would pack our youth into the church bus and head for the Davis Mountains.

        Often I would be asked to either lead or write the program for those events.  One particular year I had written a program which was designated to help the youth grapple with issues of  trust and faith.  Behind the ranch was a well climbed hill called Little Round Top which offered a magnificent view of the mountains and valley.  On a clear day, which practically defined every day in West Texas, one could see McDonald’s Observatory which housed the second largest telescope in the United States.  Needless to say, at night in the Davis Mountains, the only light was provided by God.

        I got the idiotic idea that the climax of our Saturday night experience would be to escort 100 middle school kids up Little Round Top and hold a worship service.  Many of the adult leaders were not excited by this idea.  There were a thousand things that could wrong.  I promised the leaders the trail would be well lit and safety would be our highest priority.  But let’s be honest, when you combine the words mountain, darkness and middle school kids, anyone can understand the concerns.  After some discussion, we decided to proceed with the experience.

        At the end of our evening session, I sent members of the youth council ahead of us to mark the path with their flashlights.  When the last member reached the top we started out.  What normally was a 30 minute climb in daylight ended up taking over an hour.   Some of our more adventuresome youth broke from the lit trail and found their own way to the summit.  Tensions were a bit high by the time the entire group arrived intact.  Many of the kids had already been there for twenty minutes and were ready to go back down.  Others were exhausted from the effort and panting heavily.  In the midst of all this I tried to calm them down and lead worship.  I pulled out my notes turned on my flashlight and looked at what I had prepared.  Then I looked at my congregation.  There were 100 kids, many of them who had never been up Little Round Top.  The ones who had climbed it before wanted to hang off the rocks in the dark.  The new comers were worried about getting down in the dark.  And the adults had already formed a committee to hang me at dawn which by the way is still believed to be legal in Texas.

        I stuck my notes in my pocket, put my flashlight under my chin to reflect my face and said, “In order for us to worship we have to prepare ourselves.  Everyone sit down, turn off your flashlight when I turn mine off and silently reflect on the words I will share with you.”  I turned off my flashlight and paraphrased the opening words from Psalm 19, “The heavens are telling the glory of God, and the moon and stars proclaim God’s handiwork.” At first there were the usual giggles and responses that always accompany 14 year olds.   But then they became silent.  And that is when worship began.  Not a word was said, for five, ten, nearly fifteen minutes.  100 plus kids and adults, sat silently gazing into the heavens, captured not by the stars, not by the moment, but by the Spirit of God.  Knowing that no words could describe what we had experienced I turned on my flash light, said “Amen” and declared it was time to go back down the hill.  The mob that climbed Little Round Top quietly, reverently, made their way down the hill and back to their cabins.  There was no evaluation at the end of the process; the traditional Saturday night gathering around the fire was cancelled.  The kids just returned to their cabins and went to bed.  Once you have seen God, what else is there to do?

        In the following years, I climbed Little Round Top many times.  Sometimes it was with others, sometimes it was by myself, often it was at night.  The breathtaking view was always the same, but not the experience. I quickly learned it was not the view, it was not the night air, it was not even the adrenalin. It was the silence, a silence so loud that it blocked every single thought from my mind and me to see God. 

        What would you give for that experience?  Should we jump in our cars and run up to Humpback for a view a thousand times more impressive than Little Round Top?  Should we volunteer to be a chaperon for the next Presbytery middle school retreat in hopes that you will discover the sound of silence?  Perhaps none of that is necessary.

        When Jesus and the disciples came down from the mountain they were met by a very noisy crowd demanding Jesus’ full attention.  A father shouted out, “Teacher, would you look at my child? He is possessed by a demon.”  As if on cue the child began to scream out all kinds unspeakable curses.    Jesus went to the boy, touched him, and the boy and every one around him fell silent as they were “Astounded by the greatness of God.”  It was a mountain top experience, without the mountain.

        How often we are aware of the power of God to quell the noise, the commotion, the disorder in our daily lives?  How often are we willing to embrace silence as a way of beckoning God?  How often do we practice silence as a daily discipline to discover God?  How often do we affirm that the God of silence is also the God who eternally walks beside us?

        We think of experiences like Ft. Davis come once in a lifetime. But for those willing to embrace the silence, the presence of God can be an everyday phenomenon.  Open eyes and closed mouths often lead to unexpected epiphanies of grace.

        The folks who put together the Christian calendar knew what they were doing when they placed the Transfiguration on the Sunday before Ash Wednesday.  They are saying the Christ witnessed on the mountain is also the Christ you will find in the valley. The Christ who stands beside Elijah and Moses is also the Christ who stands beside the broken boy.  The Christ who was declared to be the Chosen is also the Christ who has chosen you. 

        Think about that…… silently.

Run that around in your soul……. Silently.

Remember, “The Lord is in his Holy Temple.  Let all the world keep silence”.  See with your hearts, and not just your eyes and you will regularly experience the glory of God.          Amen.

Don't Tell Anyone

Mark 1:40-45

“Don’t Tell Anyone”

        It is so easy to get excited about miracles stories that we often make that the emphasis of the message.  I would like to suggest that miracles are secondary and unfortunately our fascination with them often keep us from discovering the real impact of the text.  In the first chapter of Mark, Jesus has been confronted by demons and sick mother-in-laws.  He has healed headaches and backaches.  The ultimate test comes when he is confronted by a leper.  In the time of Jesus, in fact, until recently, leprosy was the most feared of all diseases.  It was thought to be highly contagious.  Only in the last century have we discovered that leprosy is not spread by contact and is in many cases curable.  But in the first century, anyone with any skin disease was sent to a colony where other lepers resided.  When the leper approached Jesus we can be fairly certain of two things.  First, the man had been rejected by his community and second, when he approached Jesus, no one else was around.

        What intrigues me is not the miracle, but the conversation.  The leper questioned Jesus in a rather unusual manner.  “If you want to, you can heal me.”  There was no doubt in the mind of this young man that Jesus had the power to change his life.  The question that puzzled the leper was, “Are you like everyone else?  Are you afraid of my appearance?  Do you want to risk contact with me?  Am I worth your time?”

        Sometimes we forget Jesus came to save humankind, not to pick favorites.  It didn’t matter if you were a leper or a centurion, Jesus responded to human need.  The leper had no reason to fear that he would be rejected by the Son of God.  Jesus came to save, not condemn.  But then comes the interesting part.  Once the healing takes place Jesus instructed the leper to inform no one who was responsible for the healing.

        As you read Mark, part of the intrigue of this particular gospel centers around discovering the identity of Jesus.  Scholars refer to this as the secrecy motif.  The identity of Jesus is not fully revealed until his death and the revelation is by a Roman soldier in charge of the death squad.  The identity of Jesus seemed obvious to people possessed by demons, or to blind folks such as Bartamaus.  But the followers of Jesus did not have a clue.  Their human eyes were not prepared to witness God’s revelation. So it would appear Jesus’ instructions were in keeping with this secrecy motif in Mark’s Gospel.  

But there was a second reason Jesus requested the leper’s silence.   Let’s look at the facts.  Before the disease appeared the man might have had a family. He certainly came from one of the neighboring villages.  Each week family or friends would bring food and clothing and drop them off near the leper colony.  Little of no contact took place.  It only makes sense that the first thing the leper wanted to do was   return home.  Can you imagine being married and going years without being able to hold the hand of your wife?  Can you imagine being a mother and not being able to lift your child to your breast?  The healed man had been given back his life.  He probably ran all the way to his home just to gaze upon the folks he loved.  When this incredible homecoming took place, don’t you think someone was going to ask, “What happened?”  How was he to respond?  “I got up this morning and suddenly my skin was better.”  Do you think he would be able to hide his joy?  Don’t you think he would be screaming at the top of his lungs, “Jesus healed me!”

            Jesus knew this.  He also knew the immediate results would be that everyone who heard the story of the leper would come to Jesus hoping to be cured.  Jesus was certainly capable of healing anyone who crossed his path.  But Jesus did not come to this world just to eliminate disease.  He came with a message and a gift.  The message was, “Repent”.  The gift was grace, the amazing fulfillment of God’s eternal covenant. 

          I suspect all of us would like to see the leprosy’s that exist in today’s world eradicated.   I imagine we all believe God has the power to heal any illness.  And if this is true, why doesn’t God start with Aids, or Muscular Dystrophy, or Alzheimer’s?  And why stop there?  Why doesn’t God eliminate cancer and heart disease?  I for one would want to include some of our less obvious deadly diseases.  Why doesn’t God eliminate poverty?  Why doesn’t God destroy racism, sexism, and all the other “isms” that poison our society?  Why doesn’t God wipe out greed?  Why doesn’t God abolish war? Why doesn’t God heal the ills of humanity?  Why doesn’t God cure the world of all disorders?

        Imagine what would happen if God snapped God’s holy fingers and disease disappeared?  Imagine God waving God’s holy hand and Israel and the Palestinians became allies?  Imagine Hindu, Moslems, Christians and Buddhist recognizing the validity of each others faith.  Imagine the New York Yankees going to Fenway and not being booed? If all that happened, would we love God more?  Would we worship God more?  Would we strive to insure the second chance God had given us?  Or would we continue doing what humanity does best and begin all over again making a mess of God’s perfection. 

        I remember listening to an interview on PBS a few years ago.  A Russian scientist who had participated in the clean up after the nuclear disaster at Chernobyl was sharing her story.   For years since the accident she has tested the air, water and soil around the sight.  Thousands of acres south of the nuclear reactor had been quarantined and declared unhealthy for human habitation.  Her team had recently reentered this condemned area to review the results.  They did not find what they expected.  It was a virtual Garden of Eden.  Both plant and animal life were flourishing.  At first the scientists were amazed, but then their elation was subdued by the sobering reality of their discovery.  The one component eliminated from the area since the nuclear tragedy was human interaction.  Nature had flourished without us.  Their conclusion was the greatest danger to humanity ….. was humanity.  In other words,  it will never be enough for God to be just the great healer.  First and foremost God must be known as the Holy One who saves us from our sins.

        Therefore, Jesus did not come to the world just to heal; Jesus came to the world to save.  Remember the instructions he gave the leper.  “Don’t tell anyone what happened; don’t tell a soul how you were cured.  Go to the rabbi and offer a sacrifice.”

        Today, through the work and sacrifice of many men and women leprosy is curable.  In my lifetime, I look at the amazing advancements that have been made in the areas of cancer and heart disease.   When humans are selflessly willing to sacrifice together for the goodness of God’s creation, amazing miracles happen.  Of course as soon as we make headway in one direction we falter somewhere else.  For every sacrifice that is made, a thousand sins are committed.   The words that beg to be shouted from each of us that has been rescued from the leprosy of greed, or selfishness, or power, or arrogance, or hate is not Jesus cures but Jesus saves.    

        One century’s leprosy is another century’s Aids.  One generation’s Pearl Harbor is another generation’s 9-11. Illness of the body and mind will always plague the human adventure.  And yet God, for reasons beyond my comprehension, continues to love God’s flawed experiment. 

        Let us give thanks for the God-given opportunity to sacrifice our lives for the advancement of future generations.  Let us give thanks for Jesus who sacrificed his life that our salvation is more than a cure; it is an eternal gift.

Are You Ready for a Miracle?

Mark 1:21-28

Are You Ready for a Miracle?

        Sometimes when I read a biblical passage, I feel …… awkward.  By that I mean I am wondering exactly what I am supposed to do with the text.  Sometimes the scripture takes me out of my comfort zone.  Sometimes the text seems irrelevant for a sophisticated 21^st century audience.  This morning might be one of those times.  Jesus entered the Synagogue and began to preach.  The folks listening were astounded by his words.  Mark wrote, “He spoke as one having authority, not as one of the scribes.”  I have no problem with this part of the text. Ever heard James Forbes preach?  Forbes is an African-American with a smallish voice that seldom seems to rise above a whisper.    When he begins, Forbes appears to barely be 5 ½ feet tall.   But by the time he finishes he could play center for the Los Angeles Lakers.  I remember hearing him preach to a room full of Presbyterian ministers.  Trust me, that is a tough crowd.  He preached for over ninety minutes.  By the end of the sermon Forbes had us waving our arms over our heads, singing “This Little Light of Mine”, begging for more.  I thought the whole room had gone Pentecostal.    That is the power of someone who is filled with the spirit of God.  I have no doubt when Jesus preached, the room fell quiet as folks turned all their attention on this young Rabbi and when he finished, they probably begged for more.  Jesus’ ability to preach is not what causes me to have problems with this text.

        As Jesus was preaching a man stood before him and cried, “Have you come to destroy us?  I know you are the Holy One of God!”   Even this doesn’t bother me.  I have had plenty of folks comment on my sermons.  I was preaching once in an African-American congregation and a lady in the back stood up and hollered, “Help him Jesus, help him.”   And she was right, I needed help.   My belief has always been if one is brave enough to engage in this “holy monologue” then one has to be courageous enough to hear the not so complimentary comments that are offered.  Criticism is part of the job and your comments are welcomed.  But you might want to wait till after the service.

        What frightens me about this text is how Jesus responded to his critic. Jesus said, “Be silent, come out!”  Instantly an unclean spirit left the man’s body.          (stop) 

        I saw “The Exorcist” when I was 23 years old.  I had just completed Advanced Infantry Training at Fort Polk where I was instructed by our nations finest to overcome my fears and face my fiercest enemies. My instructors would have not been very proud of me that evening because that movie nearly scared me to death.  I mean when Linda Blair’s head did a 360, my stomach was performing the same feat.  Yet when I left the theatre, I didn’t jump at shadows or look under the car.  It was just a movie.  It was scary, but still it was just a movie.

        I am not suggesting the supernatural doesn’t exist.  I am not suggesting there is no such thing as the personification of evil.  I am not even suggesting that somewhere in history there might have been exorcisms that worked.  I am just saying that is not part of the world in which I reside.  I know mental illness exists.  I have witnessed some folks who are obviously possessed by things I do not understand.  But I am a rational guy, pretty much convinced that it takes more than a wave of a hand to heal a wounded soul.

        Yet here is Jesus, who with a word quells the dispirited; with a word, makes the lame walk; with a word, raises the dead to life.  And then we who believe in Jesus are told if we have enough faith, we can perform the same miracles. 

        There is something going on here that make me a little nervous.  I do not doubt that God has the power to heal, but I know there are charlatans out there who play on the emotions of folks who are hoping for a miracle.  Folks in my profession are not shy about laying their hands on the afflicted and asking that a limb, or spirit, or heart be healed.  Trust me when I say I believe in the power of prayer.  But I also believe more damage than good is often done by these unholy exercises.

        Ever see the movie, “Leap of Faith?”  It starred Steve Martin who played a faith healer.  He made the rounds in  Texas creating a carnival like atmosphere where he promised healings to a people had little else to hope for but a miracle.  Martin’s line was always “Do you believe God can heal you?”  Now who in their right mind is going to say no?  We trust in the power of God, we have witnessed folks recover from cancer and heart attacks, we believe those miracle stories in the Bible yet this is a dangerous question which preys on the soul of anyone who is desperate.  “Do you believe God can heal you?”   Of course we do, but what happens if a healing does not take place.  Charlatans like the character played by Martin can then say, “Obviously your faith was lacking.”  The failure of a miracle is placed on the already burdened soul of the afflicted, doing more harm than the disease itself.

        In this particular scripture Jesus didn’t say to the possessed man, “Do you have the faith that God can heal you?’  Jesus rather said, “Be silent, and come out.”   The man is healed, not by his faith, but by the power of a word.

        At first glance this puts an incredible burden on those who are agents of healing and reconciliation.  It would seem if our faith was strong enough, if our words are spoken with enough authority, cancer would be eliminated, mental health would be restored, and wars a thing of the past.  This text causes considerable conflict within my soul because I want to believe that there is the possibility that I possess the healing touch of God but my faith is challenged by the reality of what I witness each and every day.  People get sick and people die.  That is simply a fact of life.  And if that is the case, where is the good news?  Where is the gospel?   

        A number of years ago a middle aged stranger entered my office.  He was a bit unkempt and had a rather wild look in his eye.  Jack said, “You don’t know me and I don’t know you but a preacher down the street said we ought to get to know each other.  I have been diagnosed as schizophrenic but I am not.  I have been tossed out of two or three churches. I have no trust in organized religion. I am not about to become a Presbyterian.  But I believe in God and I believe God loves me.  Can we talk?”  

        My initial thought was, “Why did one of my colleagues send this crazy guy my direction?”  But Jack was already in my office so I asked if he would like to sit and talk.  Jack never sat down.  He ranted and raved for an hour, never letting me get a word in.  I finally said, “Jack, I have another appointment in two minutes.  Would you like to come back?”

        He stopped, and to my surprise calmly said, “Yeah, this has been helpful.”  Twice a month, for the next five years, Jack would come to my office for an hour.  Mostly he would talk and I would listen.  Sometimes I would hear the same story over and over again.    At the end of each conversation Jack would say, “I still believe in God and I still believe God loves me.”

        In December, Jack came to my office for the last time.  He knew I was leaving Clinton and told me the trip to Nellysford was a little further than he wanted to travel for our bi-monthly sessions.  As we got ready to part I asked Jack the question I had wanted to ask for years.  “Jack, why did you keep coming? I’m not sure the progress you have made has anything to do with our conversations.”

        He looked at me and said, “Quite the contrary.  Each time I leave, I always say, “I still believe in God and I still believe God loves me.”  And you always respond, “Yes Jack, God does love you.”  Do you how few times I have heard those words?”

        Sometimes we forget the power of a word.  Sometimes we never realize the healing balm of a phrase especially when offered in prayer.  Many of us pray everyday that someone will recover from an illness or a difficult situation in life.  We routinely pray for miracles which may never happen.  But when we pray, we remind the ones with whom we pray that God’s presence, God’s love will be with the one who suffers… that God’s presence, God’s love will be with the family of the one who suffers… that God’s presence, God’s love will be with the community of the one who suffers.  By doing so, we offer hope not just for the moment but for tomorrow.     

        Is that any different than a faith healer?  I think it is.  We acknowledge that God’s time is not necessarily our time, but God remains with our wounded souls even when we feel desperately alone.  We are not faith healers, but we are dispensers of Gods Holy Words of grace and compassion.  We are not miracle workers, but we are believers, who awaken one’s willingness to be made whole again.

        Do not be afraid to speak the Holy Words.  They create spaces of freedom and places of healing and communion.  Do not be afraid to speak the Holy Words.  Transformations and resurrections do happen, even if they don’t meet our particular timetable.

                                        To God be the Glory.  Amen

The Road to Nineveh

Jonah 3:1-5, 10

The Road to Nineveh

        Gertrude Stein; Saul Bellow; J.D. Salinger; Bernard Malamud; Chaim Potak; Elie Wiesel;  You want to hear a great story?  Read one written or told by a Jew.  The Jews have spent three millenniums perfecting their craft and they were pretty good when they started.   Remember the one about the shyster Jacob who tricked his older brother out of the family birthright for a bowl of soup?  Or what about  the folks trying to build a tower to heaven out of sub-par materials?  Perhaps one of the all time favorites is the one about a whale that swallowed a man and the guy lived to tell about it.   Do you remember what happens next? A man being swallowed by a whale is a big deal.  But it pales in comparison to the end of the story.

        Let me catch you up to speed.  The story begins when Jonah receives a message from God to take a trip to Nineveh and preach a sermon about God’s forgiveness and grace.  This presented a problem.  Jonah didn’t much care for the Ninevites.  He didn’t really know them but he had heard they were strange, different, and therefore not to be trusted.  To further complicate matters Jonah’s neighbors didn’t much like the Ninevites, which meant if Jonah made contact with this folks, he would have to answer to his neighbors when he got home.   So Jonah ran away.  Being a good Jew, Jonah believed the only place he could run was toward the ocean.  The ocean represented chaos.  It was the home of the sea-monster Leviathan.  Jacob figured even Yahweh, the God of the Jews, knew better than to venture into such treacherous waters.  As is the habit of many folks, Jacob underestimated the very nature of God. 

        Jonah headed out to sea and the sea erupts.  Jonah, the same guy who has no compassion for the people of Nineveh, felt responsible for the sailors and has them throw him overboard.  Instead of drowning is swallowed by a big fish.  In the bowels of this fish, Jonah discovers he is not alone.

        Jonah did not exactly expect God to be waiting inside the fish.  Truth is God often appears when we least expect it.    Once Jonah recovers from his surprise, he utilized this discovery to plot his escape.  Using a time honored Jewish liturgy, Jonah cried out, “O God I cry out to you because I know you can hear my voice.  God, I know you are merciful and forgiving.  I know if I only ask for deliverance you will grant it. Have mercy on me and I will be your faithful servant.”

        Upon completion of this prayer of confession, Jonah was literally spit out on dry land.  As he was clearing the salt water from his ears, the first thing he heard was, “Get up, go to Nineveh, and proclaim my message of repentance.”  Reluctantly, Jonah set out on his God-given task.  He still didn’t want to go.  If he had had a cell phone he would have called his wife telling her to sell the house, because he certainly wasn’t going to be able come home and face the neighbors.  Jonah knew what was about to happen.  The same God who rescued Jonah from the whale would certainly offer repentance to Nineveh and Jonah wanted nothing to do with that.  He didn’t like the Ninevites.  They were ….. different.  He had never actually met anyone from Ninevah but he had heard stories, and he didn’t much care about what he had heard.  All Jonah wanted to do was get in and out of the city as soon as possible.  And that was what he did.

        Jonah didn’t tell anyone he was coming.  He didn’t make a reservation with the King.  He didn’t rent the local auditorium.  His sermon was exactly eight words long.  “Forty days more and Nineveh shall be overthrown.”  Having fulfilled his part of the bargain, Jonah started the long walk home. He had delivered the message.  He probably hoped no one heard it.  But as we know, that was not the case.  Instantly the people of Nineveh, including the King begin to offer prayers to God.  And when God saw this outpouring of repentance, according to Chapter 3, verse 10, God’s mind was changed and Nineveh was forgiven.

        Jonah was outraged.  He screamed out at God, “I knew you would do this.  I knew you were too gracious and merciful.  I knew you were just some bleeding heart who is always overcome with the desire to show compassion.  Just go ahead and kill me.  If I have to be friends with a Ninevite I would rather just die right here in the desert.” 

        Poor Jonah.  He believed in a God whose mercy and grace extends far beyond what some folks consider reasonable.  Poor Jonah.  He believed in a God who by God’s own words is ever changing and ever evolving.  Poor Jonah.  He now has the option of sitting in the desert under a plant that is getting ready to die or acknowledge that God’s family uncategorically includes folks whose gender, race, economic status, and sexual orientation might be different than his.  Jonah is not the only one who struggles with this.  But there is good news.  Many of us have had our own “time-out” inside the whale and when we got spewed out on the beach our eyes were opened to the wonders of God’s complete community.

        What a marvelous imagination the creator of the Jonah story must have had.  Was the story factual?  I sincerely doubt it. Did it express a God-given message of truth? Without a doubt.  Be honest, how many of us have been swallowed by our prejudices and misunderstandings when considering who might be part of God’s great community.

        This morning we will ordain and install five good folks to serve as elders at Rockfish Presbyterian.  Al Gale and Jane Andrews will be ordained as first time elders.  Like Jonah, I am a little suspect of Al.  We had dinner together the other night and I discovered we have some political differences.  Worse than that he also admits to not a being a Redskin fan.  Can there be a place in heaven for a person of such questionable taste?  Al is probably wondering the same thing about me.   

        On the other hand, what Al and I have in common with each other, and with the rest of you good folks, is today we celebrate Jane’s ordination.  My understanding is that 10 years ago Jane was elected to be ordained but peculiar language in our Book of Order would not allow that ordination to take place.  I believe for quite some time now God has been having a talk with our denomination.  Rockfish heard and listened a little sooner than others.  You folks are trend setters.  Finally, we can “decently and in order” celebrate what you have been celebrating for over a decade; Jane’s God-given gifts.  I give thanks to God for being allowed to be part of this historic moment.      I give thanks to God for the opportunity to also celebrate the gifts of Al, Sue, Walt and Lynn.  But most of all I give thanks God is still out there stirring the waters, reminding us to be careful when we attempt to put limits on God’s vision and imagination.

        Let us give thanks to our God who created us and celebrates each one of us as children of God’s kingdom.