What it Means to Live in Community

Last week I had the rich blessing of canoeing in Canada with a wonderful group of people. Thirteen of us, mostly from our church, spent the week in the wilderness, canoeing some 60 miles and learning a lesson that is always highlighted on our retreat: what it means to live in community. One night during vespers we turned to a familiar and beloved Psalm (133):

How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!

It is like the precious oil on the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron,         

        running down over the collar of his robes.

It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion.

For there the LORD ordained his blessing, life forevermore.

The image of living together in unity as a blessing is powerful. The words describing the abundant blessed oil anointing Aaron the priest and servant of God, or the image of dew falling on Mt. Hermon bearing the only moisture that a desert climate may know, speak of how precious that blessing is. Well, certainly living in community in unity reflects the beauty of that blessing. But unity doesn’t mean homogeneity – unity isn’t about all being the same. Rather, it is about each of us sharing our unique and diverse gifts in the service of God, and of a vision that transcends ourselves. That vision appears throughout scripture, whether in an Old Testament Psalm, or in the image of Jesus’ diverse band of followers. Unity in God is a celebration of each person in their unique ways being celebrated as equally loved and valued in the eyes of God. It certainly was a constant part of our trip – but then it was a part of each of the experiences of ministry at Peace UCC over the summer from Habitat trips and VBS to the day-to-day workings and worship of the congregation.

There are lots of times when we think that unity looks like uniformity – but I don’t experience that as the vision God offers. Rather, our conversations and gifts are enhanced by our differences.

At our annual meeting this fall, we will be taking a vote on whether or not to declare our church Open and Affirming – a designation within the UCC that speaks to our welcome and inclusion of all people. There is a particular requirement that this include people of diverse expressions of human sexuality, because in this moment in time these individuals are particularly singled out by much of the church as being welcome only if they change. For someone who is lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, queer or questioning (LGBTQ+) they know that the three largest denominations within the United States and many others welcome them with the caveat that their fundamental understanding of who they are is sinful and therefore must change in order to be acceptable. The issue is at the heart of culture wars that have been dividing many within the church. In the division, I hear positions of fear trumping those of compassion.

This week I saw a cartoon that spoke to the challenge of our being faithful: it showed a man and a woman standing in front of laden bookshelves with the caption “We may have the same books, but we highlight entirely different passages.” This is the struggle for us as the church as we decide which “sins” to highlight and which to ignore… when we believe we can decide how abundantly God’s grace is offered, to whom, or under what circumstances.

We have the opportunity to affirm our openness to seeing God’s blessing in the rich diversity of humanity. And to move our conversations more closely toward the celebration of how good it is when kindred dwell in unity… even when their highlighting is different.

Some speak of the unity that we embrace as our equality at the foot of the cross of the one who offered self-sacrificing love rather than self-serving judgement. May God continue to bless us with the gifts of discernment as we journey together with one another and with God! Pastor Eric

A Message from our Covenanted Partner in Ministry, Rev. Gretchen Martin

Complex Grief Associated with Death by Addiction

I know this is a heavy title, but I want to spend this article talking about the very real and unfortunately, very common type of grief. In my line of work, in hospitals working with families whose loved one is at the end of life, death by overdose or addiction happens every day. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, there were 1,177 overdose deaths in Wisconsin in 2017; that’s over 3 deaths every day. These deaths are from synthetic opioids, heroin and prescription opioids like pain pills.[1] Grief associated with death by overdose is unique, given the complexity of the grief and the seemingly inconsistent emotions families hold all at once. There is added complexity to this grief when people feel the death was somehow preventable. I want to take some time and walk through the variety of emotions people may feel when they are grieving death by overdose.[2]

Guilt is the feeling of having committed an offense or failed in an obligation. Guilt can arise for folks grieving death by overdose when they feel they could have or should have done something to prevent the death. For example, family members might say “Should I have given him gas money when I knew he would spend it on drugs? Did I somehow cause his death?” Or “I showed her tough love by kicking her out; if I had let her say, I could have helped her when she overdosed.” If you are talking with someone struggling with this, reassure the one grieving that the death is not their fault.

Relief is the feeling of reassurance or relaxation following release form anxiety or distress. It is natural to feel a sense of relief when pain or suffering ends. Think about it for yourself – the sense of relief you feel when that headache goes away, or when exams or the big presentation for work is over. No one who has an addict in their family wants their loved one to die. They have always hoped for the addiction to end, praying it would be through recovery, not in death. But, in the face of death by overdose, the addict’s and the family’s suffering has ended. A mother won’t have to worry any longer when the phone rings late at night. A spouse won’t have to worry about shielding the children from the addict’s behaviors. This feeling of relief in no way diminishes the love for the addict or the sense of loss and grief.

Shame is the feeling of bringing disgrace or regret, and it is an emotion that is based on what others think of you. Shame around death by overdose comes with the thought that you believe others think it is your fault for having a family member who is an addict. The feeling of shame can also arise if there is a perception that you enabled the addict. Those grieving may think others will judge them for not doing enough to help the addict get clean and sober. Because of this shame, family members may be reluctant to share the circumstances of the death or feel less worthy of mourning. Addiction likely touches every family in some form; don’t let the one grieving feel shame. Reassure the surviving family that you love them, support them and that you can only imagine how hard this death and grief must be.

Fear is to be afraid of someone or something as likely to be dangerous, painful or threatening. Those grieving death by overdose will likely have a sense of fear and anxiety in the wake of the death. They may wonder “Will others start using, relapse or die of an overdose?” Surviving family members may find themselves trying to control every situation as to not allow anyone else to die or be hurt. You can imagine how fixated someone could get trying to protect others and not address their own grief.

Stigma and Isolation Stigma is a mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person. There may be a reluctance for those grieving to openly discuss the cause of death due to stigma around drug abuse and addiction. Surviving family members may be hesitant to share out of fear of what others may think, or they may want people to remember the deceased as happy, loving, athletic, smart… not as an addict. Unfortunately, this often leads to isolation, as those grieving don’t fully disclose the cause of death, don’t open up about the variety of grief they are feeling, and often limit their grieving.

If you find yourself in a situation where someone opens up about their grief surrounding death by overdose, please recognize it as a sacred moment. Remember the Not Top 10 and the Top 10… they apply for this type of grief too. If the person grieving begins to share the variety of emotions they are feeling, reassure them that one emotion does not detract from the others. You can be sad about the death and, at the same time, feel relief that the pain and stress associated with addiction has ended. You can feel relief and, at the same time, wonder if there were things you could have done to prevent the death. Emotions around death by overdose aren’t mutually exclusive.

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On a totally different note… I would like to ask for prayers as I prepare for a mission trip in June. I will be joining Ardmore Baptist Church and my husband, Rev. Dane Martin on a week-long mission trip serving a community of Haitian refugees in the Bahamas. Haiti holds a special place in my heart, as that is where I first heard (or first listened to) God’s calling on my life. I am excited to minister to the Haitian people in this new context. Thank you for your prayers.

[1] Centers for Disease Control and Prevention; Overview of the Drug Overdose Epidemic, www.cdc.gov/drugoverdose/data

[2] What’s Your Grief; The Grief of an Overdose Death: Part 1, https://whatsyourgrief.com/the-grief-of-an-overdose-death

Living the Resurrection

“It’s too early…” was the refrain that I heard preached last week in a sermon by pastor of Trinity UCC, Chicago, the Rev. Otis Moss III. He was speaking about the myriad challenges of life both in and outside of the church, reminding us in this Easter season that our faith tells us that it’s always too early to throw in the towel, to become overwhelmed, to stop trusting in what God is still about to do in our midst. My heart hummed with a resonance of what I’ve come to trust as “church” when he described “the sisters rising early in the morning to bring spices to the place of death, to change the aroma and the atmosphere of loss and grief.” Of course, the message of Easter is that their intent to go and worship in that very place of grief allowed them to encounter the proclamation of new life that was beyond their imagining. To be a people of the resurrection is to live out that proclamation daily.

Our church family has been pondering what it means to grieve the imminent retirement of our church secretary of 27 years. There is nothing but celebration for Diane as she embarks on this new adventure and chapter in her life. And as church, we hold nothing but gratitude for the amazing ways that Diane touched and supported our lives individually and as a church. But change always brings a level of anxiety and grief. Into the goodbyes we also proclaim that resurrection affirmation that we are always the servants who carry those fragrant spices into the next chapter – for Diane, and for us.

Next week we will be welcoming our new office manager and celebrating what God is continuing to do in our midst. The search process felt like an amazing affirmation of the hope that we’re called to live out. We received nearly 90 applications, almost all of them were wonderful, and many exceptional. The personnel committee was impressed by the 14 initial interviews, and four follow-ups that left us feeling like we were experiencing the abundant blessings of God. The discernment process was difficult because of the quality of the candidates. We are pleased to introduce Robin Mock as our new office manager. Robin has spent the past nineteen years employed at institutions of higher learning, most recently as the administrative assistant for the Vice President of Academic Affairs at Marian University in Fond du Lac. For eighteen years she served Lakeland University in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, as the assistant to the Provost and Vice President of Academic Affairs, and as advancement administrative coordinator and marketing coordinator. She comes with a wealth of experience combined with great enthusiasm to come and be a part of the ministry team at Peace Church. Her first day of work will be May 28th. She’ll have a few initial days to overlap with Diane and to begin to find her way around. By June 3rd she’ll be the person that we’ll most likely hear on the phone or encounter in the office. But you shouldn’t be surprised to still encounter Diane here and there. Diane will continue to help orient Robin as needed, as a “special consultant” who has deeply loved her ministry for 27 years.

Like those women early in the morning, we know that we will all be journeying through emotions of grief and celebration in the midst of change. For we know that we are a resurrection people with whom God walks and inspires with new blessings.

We thank Diane from the depths of our souls! She will always be a part of our church family.

We welcome Robin! It is wonderful to invite her into a family that is eager to cherish her gifts.

May God bless each of us on the journey!!

And then there was Holy Week

Within my life of ministry, Lent always seems to pick up speed as it moves along. Suddenly we are in the rich tradition of Holy Week and wrestling with the dynamics of life and death, justice and grace. We began our Lenten journey with those words that remind us of our mortality: “remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return…” We are constantly invited to make our peace with death and dying and then to live life to its fullest as the blessing intended by God.

Central to the peace that we are invited to hold within our hearts is the promise of God’s love that never ends. Our Easter proclamation embodies the power of love. I think that proclamation took on a very different character when I focused less on the language of a father sacrificing his son and started hearing the language of self-sacrifice – servant language. The ancient hymn that we encounter in the letter to the Philippians speaks so beautifully to a very different theology than that of a Father sacrificing his son (an act that has always sounded like it erred too close to abuse). That hymn proclaims: “Though he was in the form of God, he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit. But he emptied himself by taking the form of a slave and by becoming like human beings. When he found himself in the form of a human, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:5–8, CEB) The idea of God choosing to journey with us through suffering and death feels very different than offering your child for sacrifice. That solidarity becomes the antidote to a world that continues to be addicted to the myth of redemptive violence. God proclaims that the violence of the world cannot win – rather, servanthood, self-sacrificial love, this is the power that saves us.

At the center of this idea is a very early doctrine of the church, the incarnation. Rev. Holly Whitcomb in her new book “The Practice of Finding” writes about the incarnation in a provocative passage titled “say Yes to being vulnerable as God is vulnerable”. She references writer Melissa Tidwell who elaborates: “It is staggering to consider God's willingness to accept – or even God's desire to experience – a human form, living in a body like ours. It opens us up to marvel at the idea of a perfect, eternal God becoming perishable, harmable, capable of grief and pain, and finally, death.”  Holly continues: “Most of us struggle with vulnerability. In our work or our personal lives we may be seduced by images of our virtue and personal power, thinking these will win us accolades or personal agency. But of course, we all know on a deep level that it is in fact not our perfection but our humanness and our vulnerability that are the bridges to other people. […] God became human in the incarnation, and we become human when we are open and vulnerable and less than perfect.”

The journey of faith is one that continually leads us to understand the power of a servant’s heart. The Roman Empire thought that death on a cross would serve its purposes. It thought that the death of Jesus and any other rabble-rouser or revolutionary would save the empire in somewhat the same way that Temple culture thought that animal sacrifice would save the people of faith. The Psalmist and the Prophets often voice that God doesn’t merely want the sacrifice; he wants changed hearts. God becoming human in Jesus shifts our understanding of power yet again. The vulnerable becomes the victor, love triumphs over violence, sacrifice to God is abolished through sacrifice by God. Love wins.

           And it is the power of that witness that has us proclaim: Christ is Risen! He is Risen Indeed!!!