Mary Speaks

O you who bear the the pain of the whole earth,
I bore you.
O you whose tears give human tears their worth,
I laughed with you.
You, who, when your hem is touched, give power,
I nourished you.
O you who hold the world in your embrace, 
I carried you.
O you who laughed and ate and walked the shore,
I played with you.
And I, who with all others, you died for,
now I hold you.

Madeleine L'Engle

Mary and her experience is the focus of this week's Advent sermon from Pastor Steve. 

When Mary says let it be to the archangel, it is an act of radical surrender. She offers her yes not with the meek passivity that history has so often ascribed to her; this kind of surrender is born not of weakness but of a daring strength within her and a stunning grace that shows up to sustain her. Mary’s surrender is deliberate, the choice of a woman ready to give herself to the sacred with such abandon that she agrees, with intention, to give up every last plan she had for her life.

Mary’s audacious yes propels her onto a dark way. She sets out on a path almost completely devoid of signposts or trails left by others; she chooses a road utterly unlike any she had ever imagined for herself. What must it have been like to walk a way she could hardly perceive, while carrying within herself—in her heart and womb and bones—a light unlike any the world had ever seen?

Grace and peace,
Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Advent is upon us this weekend, the four weeks of waiting for the arrival of the Messiah of whom the Hebrew prophets spoke. With Isaiah and the great company of the Hebrew prophets we wait for the one who will bruise the serpent's head. We wait for Immanuel—the one who is God with us.

During Advent we also visit the New Testament stories that preceded the birth in Bethlehem—stories like Zechariah and Gabriel in the temple, the meeting of Mary and Elizabeth, the Annunciation, the Magnificat and the birth of John the Baptist. All of these stories set the stage for Christmas to arrive with full force.

Then we have twelve days of the Christmas feast to meditate on all of the marvelous stories surrounding the birth of Jesus that help us explore the meaning of the Incarnation. And after those days have run their course, we arrive at Epiphany where we celebrate and contemplate the revelation of Christ to the Gentiles, as the Magi come with their gifts to pay homage to the child born King of the Jews. Brian Zahnd says, "It's a journey out of secular banality and into the sacred mystery of the Incarnation" and "the aim of Advent is to instill a quiet slowness into our souls."

Let's try to feel Israel's centuries-long wait for the promised Messiah. Let the anticipation build. And when Christmas arrives, don't pack it away too quickly. Savor the impact of this marvelous coming of God in Christ. Then rejoice that the good news has come for all people, everywhere!

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

The stone that the builders rejected has now become the cornerstone. This is the Lord's doing, and it is wonderful to see. This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it. 
Psalm 118:22-24

What a wonderful weekend of shared life together for our Centennial, and at the block party for our neighbors! There were so many beautiful connections, whether for reunion or meeting new folks who responded to our flyers or personal invitations to come and party with us in the parking lot. God had clearly drawn several to the event to allow us to partner with Him to meet their immediate needs, or connect them with our ministry partners who could care for them. This is the Lord's doing and it is wonderful to see.

Jesus acts. He doesn't simply speak blessing; he lives it. Through his words, his hands, his feet, his life, he brings about the very blessings he promises. Jesus works to bring healing and abundance, liberation and joy to everyone who crosses his path. This is the vocation we are called to—the work of sharing the blessings of Jesus to everyone who crosses our path. Rejoice and glad in it!

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

A gate, with no path to or from. When was it last opened? 

I see this gate as an invitation to what lies beyond the last hundred years, an opportunity for newness, a way of access to who knows where (God knows!), a gate of possibility. It has hinges and a handle, it's meant to be opened, then closed —only to be closed once we have passed through. We celebrate and party with our neighbors this weekend at our Centennial bash, then we approach the gate, discern together our next priorities and take steps to what lies beyond. The gate is an invitation to see what God is doing and join Him—Thanks be to God for the privilege of partnering with Him to see the Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven!
 
Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Phillip found Nathanael and said to him, "We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth." Nathanael said to him, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Philip said to him, "Come and see."  John 1:45-46

"What would Jesus do?"
   I was in college when the question became a slogan. I'd walk into Christian bookstores and see entire shelves dedicated to the phrase. Teenagers came to church with the acronym emblazoned on bracelets, T-shirts, caps, and hoodies: "WWJD?" Pastors used the question to title sermons, and youth group leaders chose it as an organizing theme for summer camps and vacation Bible schools. Goldmine industry though it became, the goal of the paraphernalia was to encourage kids to orient their lives around Jesus. If he were here now, facing the situation we're facing, what would he do?
   As I reflect on Jesus's first encounters with his disciples, I wonder if we might shift the WWJD question a bit, from "What would Jesus do?" to "What would Jesus see?" after all, the Jesus of the Gospels spends a lot of time looking, noticing, and discerning. Perhaps we should begin where Jesus begins. If he were here right now, looking at what we're looking at, what would he see?
   In this Scripture from John's Gospel, a skeptic named Nathanael journeys from doubt to faith. He experiences an epiphany, discovering for himself that Jesus of Nazareth is in fact the Son of God, the light that has come into the world. 
   But the story at its core is not about what Nathanael sees; it's about what Jesus sees. It's a story about Jesus' way of looking and seeing, and about what becomes possible when we dare to experience his gaze. In this story, what makes salvation possible is not what Nathanael sees in Jesus, but what Jesus sees in Nathanael...
   Seeing is alway selective. We have choices when it comes to what we see, what we prioritize, what we name, and what we call out in each other. The selves we present to the world are layered and messy, and it takes both love and patience to sift through those layers and find out what lies at the center of who we are. But there is great power in that sifting too. Something happens to us when we are deeply seen, known, named and accepted.
   Jesus has a choice when it comes to seeing Nathanael. I wonder what would have happened if instead of calling out Nathanael's purity of heart, Jesus said, "Here is a cynic who is stunted by doubt," or, "Here is a man who is governed by prejudice," or, "Here is a man who is careless in his speech," or "Here is a man who sits around, passive and noncommittal, waiting for life to happen to him."
   Any one of those things might be true of Nathanael. But Jesus looks past them all to see an honesty, a guilelessness, a purity of thought and intention that makes up the true core of Nathanael's character. Maybe the other qualities are there as well, but would Nathanael's heart melt in wonder and joy if Jesus names the quality he wants to bless and cultivate in his would-be follower, the quality that makes Nathanael an image-bearer of God. 

   What would happen if we routinely saw as Jesus sees?...

The invitation to "come and see" is an invitation to leave our comfortable vantage points and dare to believe that, maybe, we have erred in our original certainties about each other, God and the world. To come and see is to approach all of life with a grace-filled curiosity, to believe that we are holy mysteries to each other, worthy of further exploration. To come and see is to enter into the joy of being deeply seen and deeply known, and to have the very best that lies hidden within us called out and called forth...

   What would Jesus see? Come and see likewise.

   excerpt from Debie Thomas
   "Come and See"
Into the Mess and Other Jesus Stories 

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

"Lord, have mercy. The sea is so vast, and my boat is so small."

When life seems too much - too complex, too scary, too unpredictable, and yes, too exhausting, I come back to this prayer. It's traditionally called the prayer of the Breton fishermen. It's a prayer for those who feel out of their depth. A cry of the heart when the waves keep coming and every one of them gets bigger. 

It may have come as a prayer of desperation, hope clinging to an old story of disciples in a storm, the sea of Galilee a frenzy of destructive forces. And Jesus asleep.

Like the sea, long periods of life can be calm, navigable, predictable, and relatively safe. Then weather patterns change and the sea transforms into threat, and we rediscover our finitude, our limits, our humanity; we are reminded of what we can't do, what we don't know, and what we cannot control.

This brief one-line prayer asks for mercy, but does not tell God what to do. At most it points out the obvious, the vast realities we face, and the limited resources at our disposal. God already knows all that. But it is deeply human to cry out for help, for mercy, for something that pushes the balance of fear towards faith, despair towards hope, and transforms that sinking feeling into a sense of being held.

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Elijah was a human being, even as we are. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years. Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops.  
 James 5:17-18

What Elijah was able to accomplish through prayer is quite astounding, and downright intimidating too. I’m grateful, therefore, that the Apostle James shows me that Elijah wasn’t superhuman after all, but that he was just like me! He got tired, he got angry, and he even failed sometimes. However, there’s one thing that made him different from many of us—he prayed earnestly. Elijah prayed with intensity and tenacity.
 
James uses the story of Elijah to inspire, encourage and challenge the Church to pray earnestly. However, many of us may be feeling discouraged, or burnt out, and not wanting to engage with the Lord in prayer.  
 
After three and a half years of no rain, Elijah prayed again, the rain came, and the earth produced crops. This implies that the farmers were willing to sow seeds in the dust while there was no rain, believing that one day the rain would come. Prayer can sometimes feel like this—as if I’m sowing seeds in the dust. Physically, it feels as if nothing is happening, but in fact that’s not the case spiritually. I want to have seeds in the ground when the rain comes. 
 
(From James Aladiran, “Earnest Prayer” October 18, 2022 Lectio 365)
 
 
The seed is in the ground. Now may we rest in hope while darkness does its work.

Wendell Berry

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Here’s a gem from the gospel of Luke (Message version): "God had overwhelmed her with mercy."

May it be so for each of us.

If you don't know how to pray for another person, pray that they be under God's mercy, overwhelmed with God's mercy. Even if you think you know how to pray for another person, pray that God's mercy covers them. If you don't know how to pray for yourself, pray for God's mercy in your life. When you read the word mercy, think love.

Hope flows from the mercy of God.

Grace and Peace,

Anita Sorenson

Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Spirit of God,
           breathe in me.
Be my breathing,
           that I may breathe deeply of life.
Breathing in, may the wind of your earth enter me
           and become me,
the gift of life
           transformed into my cells.
Breathing out may I breathe
           your grace and your peace.
In your grace
           breathe me out into the world.
Breathe in my speaking,
           that I may speak truth.
Breathe in my singing
           that I may sing joy.
Breathe in my silence,
           that I may listen deeply.
Breathe in my walking,
           that I may go in peace.
Breathe in my dying,
           that I myself may be your breath
breathed out into the Mystery,
           in peace, breathing peace.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

Grace and Peace,

Anita Sorenson

Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Beach observations in late September

 
“Wah-hoo,” cries the ecstatic kid as he rides yet another wave to shore. He’s grinning from ear to ear, shouting with joy, along with the dozen or so kids riding their boogie boards at the Santa Monica shore. There are adults out there, too. Clearly having a good time, but none of them are screaming with delight. 
 
Adults, me included, can be wary of joy. Worried that it makes us seem undignified. So, we tuck it in our pockets rather than wrap it round ourselves, we walk it back rather than dance with it. We offer a wan smile while inwardly jumping for joy. But as multiple writers have said, “joy is the surest sign of the presence of God.” If our dignity stems from being created in the image and likeness of God — we ought to be clothed in joy, it ought to trail behind us like a sparkling train!  We ought to shout and leap and grin madly in the presence of our God. Who is before us, behind us, beneath us, within us. And in every wave that carries us to shore. For we are all worthy of joy!
 
Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation