Pastor's Thoughts November 2009

Dear People of Faith,
The calendar we use makes November the penultimate (next to last) month of the year. It is a fitting season to look back at the blessings God has given us. So thought presidents and congress going all the way back to George Washington, who affirmed November as the month for Thanksgiving Day. It is also no accident that Stewardship Sunday falls in the same month as Thanksgiving, for it is out of gratitude that true generosity is born.
If you look up the definition of steward in the dictionary, you will find it defined as one who is put in charge of the affairs of another, a manager or supervisor of another’s resources. In the church we are stewards of resources that don’t belong to us—namely the material and spiritual blessings of God. It’s the reason that I don’t handle the offering plates on Sunday mornings—to reinforce the truth that what is put in those plates goes not to me, not even to the church, but to God. The church only manages what belongs to God.
I have been involved in Stewardship Sundays for three decades, and I have heard a lot of talk about the church’s asking for pledges of support. One question I’ve heard often is “Why does the church need so much money?” Another comment is “I won’t give until I know where every dollar goes.” A third, more sarcastic remark is “If our offerings go to God, since when does God need anything?” It reminds me of the man who said that he always throws a handful of money up into the air toward God, saying “Whatever God wants He can take; whatever falls back to the ground is mine to keep.” In reality, most of these comments are made by people who want to know how cheaply they can get by with God. They think frugality, but God calls us to abundance. Jesus once made an example out of a poor widow who threw her last penny in the temple treasury. Small though the offering was, it was all that she had. She didn’t ask if her little bit were needed, nor did she ask to see the Treasurer’s Report to see if her penny would be spent wisely. She gave out of gratitude. It had nothing to do with need, only her need to give, her need to express somehow how she felt about God’s blessings in her life.
For me personally, giving is the ultimate form of worship on Sunday mornings—giving our praise to God, giving our attention to God’s Word, giving our offerings to God on the altar, giving our lives to God in response to God’s call. As we sing in the offering response, “The greatest thing in all my life is serving You [God].”
Many of us are in the Novembers of our lives—the penultimate season just before the last years. It is a time to look back and remember what God has been to us. It is also a time to ponder what our purpose has been in this life. That is a much broader question than how much we should pledge or what activities we should sign up for next year. Just what is life all about? For what reason were we born? Why have we lived? Surely we live for something greater than ourselves! Surely God has given us our material and spiritual blessings for the sake of others, not just ourselves! I encourage you to ponder the marvel of God’s trust in us as stewards when you fill out your Giving Card and Church Ministry Form this month. There is a reason God has blessed you and made you part of Spring Hill United Church of Christ. Knowing how God can use you makes all the difference in how you live and give. Many in our congregation have shown us that with their generosity of time, talent, and money. How about you?

With affection,
Pastor Carlan

October 2009

Dear Family of faith,
As you read this first sentence, I encourage you to stop a moment and thank God for the awesome gift of life that you enjoy. Just think how many wonderful experiences God blesses us with—scenes of beauty, seasons of love, moments of joy, times of celebration and success, days to feel strong and help others on this journey called life as we make our way towards eternity! Who of us has deserved any of it? It is all gift, pure grace, that we who are finite and weak should not only delight in so much goodness but that we should, within ourselves, bear the very glory of God (as Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4: 6-7).
Growing up in Minnesota and living most of my life in Ohio, I welcomed October as the month when the leaves changed color and donned their magnificent coats of red and gold. That transformation has always been an object of fascination for me—that just before the leaves are ready to die, their outer green covering fades and their true beauty beneath becomes evident. Is this not what God wants for our lives also? Should not we, as we get toward the end of our lives, become more beautiful, revealing what has been inside us all along? I learned a long time ago that there are only two ways to grow old. The one is to become more crotchety and unpleasant—criticizing more, becoming more difficult to live with, cynical and self-serving. The other is to grow old gracefully, to let loose of prejudices and self pity and make those around us feel loved and appreciated for who they are. We Christians claim that Jesus lives in our hearts, that the Holy Spirit inhabits our spirits, that God is with us always. If this be our confession of faith, then there is only one way to grow old for us—to let that inner beauty become more evident as the months and years pass. We, like the beautiful oak and maple leaves, need to let that light within us shine more brightly than ever at the end of our days in this world. As gawkers gasp in awe at the splendor of autumn hillsides aglow in color, so should those who watch our lives be amazed at our gentleness and patience, our confidence and kindness, our love, generosity, and acceptance. Instead of looking at the autumn of your life as the “twilight year,” why not look at this season as the “highlight years?” Why not consider the last decades of life your chance to shine, to show your family and friends and all who meet you the best that God has made you? The weaknesses that usually accompany aging can become one more way to let others see what you are truly made of, as an opportunity to look beyond the physical to that which is your very essence, your soul. I encourage all of you, as you grow older, to become more beautiful with age. I encourage even you, who live in this land of evergreens and palm trees, to become a landscape aglow with color that catches the attention of those in this often fearful and threatening world. Let them gasp at the unusual grace and beauty and faith that God has given you.
With affection for all of you,
Pastor Carlan

I don’t usually get political, and you need to know that I have voted for both Republicans and Democrats in my life and have belonged to both parties at different times; yet this raucous debate about health care reform has ‘got my goat.’ What has annoyed me so much about this issue is not that people are debating it; debate is healthy in a democracy. What has irritated me is the purposeful dissemination of misinformation to scare people (Have we not tired of that yet?) and the lack of Christian principles by many who claim to be ‘Bible-believing Christians.’ Newspaper articles and Internet web sites have repeatedly discredited claims that the Obama administration’s proposal would set up so-called “death panels” to promote euthanasia, that the plan would require tax payers to fund abortions, that it would provide health care to illegal immigrants, and that the plan would take away the right for Americans to choose their health care provider. None of these assertions is true (check it out at www.politifact.com.); they are only a smoke screen for the real reason that the health insurance industry and other big players want to sabotage the idea—namely, that they will lose money or profit if health care reform becomes a reality. In the August 15, 2009, issue of The Tampa Tribune, a story pointed out that much of the money and strategy behind the so-called grass-roots groups organizing opposition to the plan and making a debacle of town meetings held in legislative districts comes from conservative political consultants, professional organizers and millionaires who often hold financial stakes in the outcome. That these people are against changing the status quo from which they profit immensely is not surprising, nor is there anything illegal in their desire to hold on to what they have. The only reprehensible thing is to front their opposition as if it were coming from the common people. I was appalled recently when someone gave me a copy of an insert in a bulletin from a conservative church that presented the above debunked assertions as fact and claimed that health care in our country would worsen if it were offered to all. What a horrible face for the Christian community to present—that we who are privileged should hold on to our rights and keep others from decent health care lest it detract from ours!
Who among us does not have someone in our extended family who lacks health insurance? Who among us does not know someone who is just hoping and praying that they don’t get sick enough to require hospitalization because they can’t afford it? How many older people have to choose between buying drugs and food? Just last week The Tampa Tribune reported that the number of uninsured people in Hillsborough County is 219,543 people (21.4% of the population) and in Pasco County is 80,350 people (21.9% of the population). Since our own Hernando County has an even higher unemployment rate, no doubt we are in even worse shape when it comes to the number of uninsured residents. Of course health care will cost us; it costs us now—for doctors and hospitals charge us more to offset the costs of treating those who can’t pay. Yet cannot a nation that spent $1 billion per day on the Iraq war consider spending less than that on taking care of its own people?
Is there a Christian perspective on this issue? Most definitely! Read the prophets of the Old Testament and they all repeatedly condemned the religious and civil authorities for failing to provide for the poor and needy. James, the brother of Jesus, writes in his letter in the New Testament: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” In other words, if we want to be spiritually right with God, we need to be concerned about those who can’t take care of themselves and not be afraid to live counter to the world’s ways. I don’t know about you, but the health care that I have received since moving to Florida has not been so hot anyway. I have been overcharged and over-tested. It’s no wonder our premiums are rising for health insurance! How it will all come out in the end, I don’t know; but this much I do know: I have a responsibility to stand up for those who have no voice of influence. All are equal in God’s eyes; we dare not discriminate based on race or economic standing or societal position or any other reason—especially in a congregation that has gone on record as open to all and affirming of all! Whatever your politics or your economics, I urge you to consider this (a paraphrase from James 2: 14-17): “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is sick and lacks health care, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep well and see a doctor,’ and yet you do not supply their medical needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” I don’t want a dead faith. Let us not determine what is right based on economics or opinion polls but based on what God desires and what Jesus has taught us. Pastor Carlan

Pastor's Summer Article

Dear Friends in Faith,
This northern transplant has learned some lessons recently about gardening in Florida. I would like to share two of them with you.
The first lesson is this: Don’t let your plants get stressed or they will go to seed too quickly.
When I planted my basil and tomato plants a couple of months ago and seeded some pots with dill, chives, and cilantro; I didn’t yet quite understand the difference between an Ohio summer and a Florida summer. I was thrilled as my plants flourished and produced like crazy—in the first few weeks. But before long things had changed dramatically under the unyielding summer sun; the plants were drying out faster than I could water them, and they began nature’s desperate attempt to survive—namely going to seed. The once-lush basil and tomato plants and the thriving dill and cilantro shot up almost over night, and now I have only tall, spindly stems with seeds waiting to pop and drying branches with small tomatoes trying to develop seeds before they die. The stress of the heat of the bright sun has made the plants grow old before their time.
Could not the same be said of us? Do not the stresses and strains of life cause us to grow old before our time, too? This month researchers reported in the Science Daily that stress does, indeed, hasten the onset of gray hair; and watching people over three decades has convinced me that those with serious stress levels in their lives have grown weaker, older looking, and less healthy than those of similar ages who have been able to avoid such stress. Unfortunately we can’t just add more water and fertilizer to regain vitality and youth like we can to aid ailing plants. What we can, do, however, is to reduce the stress of our lives by letting God handle what we cannot. Too often we try to “tough it out” when it comes to life’s challenges. Instead we ought to accept our humanness and embrace our limitations and let the gentle rains of God’s Spirit water our parched and drying souls. Certainly we would age much more slowly and live more lush and productive lives for Christ!
The second lesson I learned is this: You have to pull the plugs out of the pots before it starts to rain.
Several weeks ago some friends from the church brought us two pink mandevilla plants. They were gorgeous, and their climbing tendrils promised a summer and fall of beauty. I bought two trellises and dutifully planted the flowers in new pots at the entrance to our home. Then the rains came. Day after day the pots were flooded, and each evening I tipped them over, trying to get rid of the excess water; but little by little the blossoms fell and the vines grew brown. Eventually there was nothing left to save; the rotting roots and stem died, and the decaying leaves that had fallen into the pots gave off an offensive smell. All of this could have been avoided if only I had pulled out the plugs at the bottom of the pots to let the water drain out.
There are seasons in our lives when we are deluged by cares and woes, times when troubles pour into our lives and threaten to overwhelm us. If we bottle up these cares, if we hold in these troubles, they will destroy us as surely as the floods destroyed the mandevillas. We need to learn to uncork our lives and let the cares of daily life find a way out of our lives. We must drain out of our spirits the hurts and regrets of life before they destroy our beauty and rot away our insides. We dare not remember all our pain nor obsess about our failures, but rather let the grace and pardon of God take away our sin and unpleasant past.
Nature is God’s first window of revelation, and my plants have taught me something for my life. May their lessons help you this summer, too.
With affection, Pastor Carlan

Pastor's Epistle - June 2009

Dear Friends in faith,
The church in Florida is different! I was reminded of that again last Sunday when two men on their way out of worship told me, “This is it for pants! Next Sunday you’ll see us in shorts” The leisure look is in; the staid, dark-suit-and-tie look that many of the New England Congregationalists left behind is out.
Then there’s the “Church-up-north Syndrome.” Native Floridians are few and far between; and, of course, like all sentimental remembrances of the past, one’s experience of the church ‘up north’ becomes sweeter as the years go by. When someone in a group launches into those sweet memories, the rest of the group almost always nods with sympathetic empathy. It’s hard to leave the past behind.
There is the summertime heat and humidity, which helps to draw the battle lines between those with water-thin blood and those afflicted by hot flashes. On Sunday mornings the AC keeps some of the chosen frozen while I, from the pulpit, try valiantly to do my part to thaw them out with hot air. I usually know who is feeling the heat—they use their bulletins to fan themselves.
Of all the characteristics of the Florida church, the hardest for me to get used to is the continual need to say goodbye. In the nine months that I have been your pastor we have bid farewell to the Thompsons, the Lambourghinis, and Richard Olufs—all dear people who moved away to be closer to family. Then there were those who left this life and entered eternity—people whose love for our church was known only to the long-time members, but whose gifts of time and money have left a legacy for us. Even more frequent than these goodbyes are the ones given to the people who continue to leave silently, a little at a time, as the summer approaches. They are the migrant members who, for the past many weeks, have confided in me on their way out of the sanctuary, “This is our last Sunday until the fall.” I feel like a beachcomber standing at water’s edge, feeling the sand around my toes slowly sift away under my feet with every new wave that laps against the shore.
I’m not good at goodbyes, and this seeping away of loved ones is hard on me. I feel what Cole Porter expressed in a song many years ago, “'Ev'ry time we say goodbye, I die a little.” Oh, all the snowbirds taking flight assure me that they’ll be back, but none of us knows the future. As James wrote, “You do not even know what tomorrow will bring…Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wishes, we will live and do this or that.’” What this means for us is that we need to appreciate people when we have the chance. Delight in those you love while you have opportunity. Don’t fall into the trap of ‘sometime’—“sometime we will have to get together, sometime I’ll have to spend a week with the kids, sometime we’ll have to have you over for dinner, sometime I’ll have to make up to the one I hurt.” Sometime has a way of never coming. Now is the time to make plans. Now is the time to express your affection. Today is the day for words that heal, for hugs that affirm, for acts of kindness that bless. The past, dear as it may have been, is gone; and tomorrow, hopeful as we hope it is, may never come. Today is all we have for sure. As a Florida church, let us be a church of the Now. God has given us this day to be His people in this place called Spring Hill. Hot or cold, formal or informal, sentimental or rational—use the chances you have today.
With affection, Pastor Carlan

The Pastor's Epistle

Dear People of Grace,
I admit it. I’m not the most patient driver on the road. So far I’ve never gotten out of my car with a tire iron to smash in the window of another driver. That’s not to say that I haven’t muttered a few unclergylike words under my breath! Fortunately I have low blood pressure! At this point in my life I’ve come to the conclusion that if I ever stop getting “bent out of shape” over wacky drivers on the road, I will either be wholly sanctified by the Holy Spirit….or dead.

When I moved to Florida last year, I had “braced myself” for slow drivers. With all the elderly people on the roads, with supposedly sluggish reflex times, I had counted on getting behind a few “slow moving vehicles” once in a while. To my surprise, though, it’s not usually the older drivers that feed my frustration. More often it’s the younger set that makes me crazy with all kinds of unusual antics on the road. Without a doubt the one thing that causes me the greatest consternation about driving in Spring Hill and Brooksville is the driver who slows down for a green light. I confess that I have a heavy foot. So far, with four decades of driving behind me, I have never gotten a speeding ticket. Nevertheless, plenty of parishioners in previous congregations have prayed while riding with me, and a few have the wobbled out of the back seat with white knuckles. It should be no surprise, then, that, when I see a green light, I want to make it through the intersection. To me, green means “Go!” That’s why it makes me wild to be behind someone who approaches a green-lit intersection with his brake lights flashing. “Where did these people learn to drive?” I utter to myself in disbelief. “Red means stop. Green means go. Go, dog, go!” [Remember I collect children’s books!]

Sometimes I wonder whether a lot of people approach life like they do those intersections on the road. I wonder whether they approach the opportunities of life with fear and hesitation, holding back, expecting the “light to change” so they won’t get through. By now you dear people know that I have plenty of joie de vivre. I sit down every chance I get to eat at life’s banquet, to experience the abundance of life that God has brought to us. It’s hard for me to understand why anyone would not go through an open door or drive confidently through a green light. In Revelation 3:8 the church of Philadelphia is told “Look, I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut.” It’s an invitation to use the opportunities God sets before us.

In the past several months God has thrown open a door to us. Every single Sunday we have visitors in worship—people seeking a spiritual home. Our area is awash with those who have been turned away from or hurt by churches who are daring to try again with us. It’s the looming green light at the intersection, beckoning us to go forward, to keep the speed and travel into our future. We need to see it for what it is—a momentous blessing that God is offering to us. Let us not be hesitant. Let us not “slow down” in fear. Let us not expect something to go wrong (like a light turning red before we can make it through). Instead, let us expect wonderful things. Let us go boldly into our future. Don’t hold back! When you hear of someone who doesn’t have a church home, invite them to come to worship. When you listen to someone who has been hurt by negative experiences with a church, help them heal by treating them differently. When you sit next to someone in the pew on Sunday morning who is unfamiliar to you, don’t be hesitant; race through that door of opportunity by making a new friend. Let us walk through every open door and use every golden moment to go where God is leading. Never slow down for a green light—especially if you’re in front of me!
Pastor Carlan

THE PASTOR’S THOUGHTS….

Dear People of Grace,
Sometimes the things that seem so small and insignificant turn out to be life-changing choices and momentous events when looking backward in time. When I was a boy of about fourteen years of age, a German lady moved into our small town in northern Minnesota. She was married to an airman who was stationed at the local radar base. It was about that time that I became interested in learning a foreign language, and, since my small school didn’t offer any foreign language until the Junior Year, my mother suggested that I contact the woman to see if she would be interested in teaching me. She was interested, and I started going to her home for personal tutoring in German. When I went to college, I took more German, spending a year studying at the University of Bonn in Germany and eventually majoring in the language. I earned my Secondary Teaching Certificate but never used it, for it was about that time that God got a hold of me and sent me off to seminary. Bethel Seminary in St. Paul had a college on the same campus, and since they taught German there, I ventured over one day to present myself as a free assistant to the German professor. A year later, when the intended replacement for the German professor backed out of a contract, I was asked to take over the whole German program, which I did. One of the bright young students in my Beginning German course was a beautiful blonde who caught my eye. After she had earned her minor from me, I proposed to her. She said yes, and we were married. After raising four children and 30 years later, Jill and I moved here to Spring Hill to meet all of you.
Little did I know that taking a few German lessons from a lady in my home town would lead me to the love of my life and to friendship and family and beautiful memories. That’s the way it is—such significant things come from such seemingly uneventful choices when we look back on them. No doubt all of you can find the same in your own lives.
On the 22nd of March, 2009, the people of Spring Hill UCC gathered at a congregational meeting to consider adopting a Statement of Inclusiveness. For most it was a wonderful event when those present adopted the Statement with a 98% approval. Even so, the day will probably not be touted as one of the “mountaintop experiences of the congregation’s life.” It was simply a choice to be open and affirming of all people. I personally believe that what happened on that Sunday will have immense significance for the way our congregation does ministry and mission in the years to come. No, we will not “veer off” and become a single issue church; the whole point of the statement was to be inclusive, not exclusive. And yet the public pronouncement that we are open to people of all ages, races, genders, ethnicities, sexual identities, health condition, economic status, and family structure makes us unique in the Spring Hill/ Brooksville community. From now on we will be actively seeking to open our doors to whole segments of the population that may have felt alienated or marginalized. By checking those little white ballots “Yes,” we have set ourselves on a journey to become more sensitive to everyone and to become the face of Jesus to all who are seeking to know God. None of us can possibly know at this moment in time what that will mean, but this much I can affirm: the importance of what we have chosen to do will grow mightily in the years to come. It is like the proverbial mustard seed; once rooted it becomes the largest of plants, offering safe haven to an amazing number of birds. We have planted the seed. Our task is to grow into what we have affirmed, learning what it means as new opportunities arise and remembering not only to say we are open, but to live out that openness and affirmation in everything we do. Then, when we see the multitude of people who come to find God in the “tree” that blooms, we will know just what we have done. Pastor Carlan

March 2009-Pastor's Thoughts

Pastor Thoughts – March 2009
Dear People of Faith,
This month we observe the liturgical season of Lent, which is the forty days from Ash Wednesday to Easter, not counting Sundays—for no fasting was appropriate on the weekly anniversaries of the resurrection. From the earliest times in the church Lent has been a time for the twin disciplines of reflection and preparation. Reflection involves taking an honest look at what was and is; preparation involves readying oneself for what lies ahead. I suspect that most of us don’t do enough of either. I suppose some may say, “Well, I do a lot of reflecting these days. I spend a lot of time remembering the past, reliving the ‘good old days.’” But genuine reflection is much more than just remembering what happened to us, more than just recalling to mind all those happy experiences when we were younger and stronger, more virile and, often, happier. The reflection that Lent beckons us to practice is more akin to the ancient practice of contemplation. It considers not just what happened to us, but more importantly what did those experiences mean in our lives and how were we challenged and changed by them.
In the book of Romans the Apostle Paul tells us that “we know that all things work together for good for those who love God.” If that assertion is true, then we need to be asking ourselves “What good came out of the experiences of my life—both the difficult and the delightful experiences? How did God use what I went through to make me closer to God and a better person? Why did I meet the people I met, love the people I loved, confront the people who challenged me? Why did I encounter the troubles and pain I endured? Why did I receive the blessings and joy I’ve known?” This is what reflection is all about—finding meaning in the experiences of our lives. When we find meaning in the events and circumstances of life, then we reaffirm that God is with us, speaking to us, transforming us, and using us all the time. This reflection renews in us the faith that the eternal God is alive and present with us and we are alive and present in that eternity. Nothing is devoid of meaning for us as Christians. Life is not just a chance roll of the dice, but every encounter with another and every event of life becomes an opportunity to experience a moment in God. Every disease, every divorce, every darkness and heartache, every miracle, every healing, every lucky break, every unexpected success and blessing—all of these make us who we are, and who we are is whom God loves and whom God uses to bless this world. Lent is a time to consider these things, and to be our “best selves.”
Lent is also a time of preparation. In the early days of Christianity the period was one of preparation for baptism, which took place at the Easter Vigil, the worship service on the Saturday before Easter. It was a time of learning and instruction to get ready for the new life of being Christian (which was symbolized by wearing new clothes on Easter—which is where we get that tradition). For us who have already pledged our lives to Jesus Lent becomes a time to prepare ourselves anew each year for what it might mean to be people of the resurrection. When we reflect on what we have been and are, we naturally turn to thoughts about what we want to be. Lent is a time to look again at the life of Jesus and what it means to be his disciple (student) and follower. Who was he that we might be like him? At the Council Retreat in February we spent time spinning dreams and visions of what we wanted our congregation to be. All of us need to do that in our own lives. We get these visions from God, and we see these visions by looking and listening, by reading the Scriptures and meditating on where God is leading us. And mostly the newness of life comes to us as we act in different and more God-conscious ways. If you want to
be better pray-er, then pray. If you want to be more loving, then love. If you want to be a better witness of the faith, then start talking to people about God. If you want to be more generous, then give. If you want to help more people, then get involved in doing something to help. Act on your desire, and you will become what you do. This is how you prepare for what lies ahead, for every day of our lives is a rehearsal for tomorrow. This Lent, take time to reflect and prepare. Everything you’ve experienced is prelude for everything you can be.
With affection,
Pastor Carlan

February 2009

Dear Family of Faith,
She was gone. With one brief gasp she left behind the precious gift of life and ended twenty years of friendship. We had traveled together far and wide in those two decades—to walk the land of Jesus’ birth, to gaze at Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel and inspect Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest. We had cruised the Greek isles and the Yangze, stood on the Acropolis and the Great Wall of China. Now this! My 80-year-old friend was gone. Betty was floating dead in the water off the beautiful St. Thomas beach—the victim of a snorkeling adventure gone terribly wrong. Face down with lungs filled with salty sea water, snorkel submerged and drifting to the whims of the current, she was helpless—and I, hundreds of yards away, blissfully ignorant of the tragedy, was marveling at underwater coral shapes and stunning tropical fish.
Someone noticed—not a non-existent call for help or a thrashing struggle—but the unusual calm of one of the snorkelers in the tide. He noticed that, unlike all the rest of the vacationers from the catamarans, this woman’s snorkel pipe was nowhere to be seen. He rushed to her side, saw the creeping blue of death upon her skin, and hauled her to the beach, calling for help on the way. A Hospice nurse and firefighting EMT happened to be onboard the boat that day and made a beeline for the beach. As spectators and a bewildered husband gathered around, they put to practice their best efforts. They pushed the water from her lungs, broke her ribs with heart-starting pressure, and blew the breath of life into cool lips. In the end the efforts of the frantic good Samaritans and the prayers of dozens of intercessors from a distance were heard. Blue turned back to pink; silent lungs coughed and sputtered; death gave way to life. Tuesday, January 13, 2009, was marked forever as the day of Betty Sole’s death and resurrection.
After spending several days in the island hospital, Betty and her husband Al are back home in Ohio again, enjoying with new appreciation the gift of life that days ago was gone. Easter came early for them this year—and for me, as well.
Reflecting on this near tragedy, I find two important lessons for our lives. The first has to do with paying attention. If the man who pulled Betty to the beach had not noticed her trouble, she would have been robbed of life before her time. I wonder how many times we have failed to notice those near us who are drowning in the waves—not just tidal waves, but waves of sorrow and despair, waves of loneliness and pain, waves of fear and hopelessness. It doesn’t take long to succumb to the onslaughts of life—to fall from happy days to pitch black nights where drugs and booze and even ropes and bullets tempt the unthinkable. We, like that anonymous Good Samaritan who saved the sloshing snorkeler, ought to live with eyes wide open to the needs of those around us. We need to walk this world with the peripheral vision of Jesus.
A second lesson branded into my consciousness anew is the importance of people in our lives. When Betty was floating lifeless in the sea, her material wealth was useless. Fabulous houses and fancy cars, millions of dollars, closets full of designer clothes, and chests of gold and diamonds—all these were ultimately worthless in the moment of greatest need. Neither she, nor we, will ever be saved by what we have. We are only saved by who we know—by the people of our lives who come to aid us in trying times and ultimately by the Savior who sacrificed all to bring us back to life.
As we make our way through 2009, let us live with wisdom and new understanding. Let us notice one another’s needs along the way and foster friendship as the greatest security in our lives. After all, isn’t this what Jesus taught us? Isn’t this Jesus’ way?
With affection,
Pastor Carlan

January 2009

Dear Family of Faith,

Unlike what most people think, the Christmas season does not begin on Black Friday (the day after Thanksgiving) and extend to Christmas Day. In the church the Christmas season begins on Christmas Day and lasts 12 days, ending on January 5th. The day after the Christmas season ends is called Epiphany. The term means “manifestation.” On Epiphany, January 6th, the church remembers those shadowy figures from the east known as magi who came in search of the baby Jesus. Again in contrast to popular understanding, the wise men or magi got nowhere near the manger. According to Matthew’s Gospel they arrived perhaps two years after Jesus’ birth and found the child in a house. The word Epiphany is used to describe the day of their visit and the ensuing liturgical season because it was when the Savior was made manifest to those Gentile travelers from afar. We don’t know how many ancient astrologers trekked to Jerusalem in search of the new king; tradition numbers them at three because of the three gifts they brought. Nor do we know exactly where they came from or who they were. We don’t even know which route they took. The one thing we do know about the magi, however, was the reason for their visit. They came, as the Gospel says, to pay [Jesus] homage. The gifts these foreign admirers brought help us understand who Jesus was. They brought gold, the gift appropriate for royalty, reminding us that Jesus was born a King. They brought frankincense, the incense used in temple worship as an offering to God, reminding us that Jesus is Son of God. And they brought myrrh, the spice used for embalming, reminding us that Jesus was born to die, that the child they came to see would someday be crucified for the sin of the world.

It is coincidence that Epiphany lies so close to the beginning of our calendar year, but its significance could never be greater than it is for this coming year of 2009. In all my adult life I can remember no other new year that people entered with so much anxiety, so much concern about the future, so much hesitation to celebrate. The constant barrage of bad economic news, job losses, and bankruptcies is hitting close to home for all of us as we lose investment income, lose customers and lose jobs in our own families. In such a season we need especially to remember the epiphany of God—that God has made manifest to us a Savior whose power and authority does not hinge on the Dow Jones Industrial Average or the latest economic indicators. The One in whom we trust is the source of all we need—that’s what the magi’s gifts remind us: Christ our Lord is Sovereign, with riches beyond our imagination. Christ is divine, worthy of our praise and worship. And Christ loves us more than we can understand—so much that he surrenders his life to rescue us from death and a meaningless life. Next time you feel the fear well up inside yourself, remember Epiphany. Remember the all-powerful, all-holy, all-loving Lord. The season’s color is green for hope. That is exactly what we have. Whatever happens around us or to us, we have hope—for ourselves, for those we care about most, and for the world. I pray that all of you will know that hope and be able to celebrate 2009 because Christ goes with us.

With affection,
Pastor Carlan