From Mockery to Marketing

February 25, 2013

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

Who knew that reviews on Amazon.com could be so funny?

A friend of mine shared with me a listing on the popular cyber-shopping website for the Hutzler 571 Banana Slicer, a product whose complicated name belies an inanely simple function.  According to its description, the Hutzler 571 Banana Slicer “Slice an entire banana with one quick motion.  Kids love slicing their own bananas.  Safer than a knife.” [1]

Sidestepping for a moment the hilarity of juxtaposing this product’s hi-tech name with its low-tech functionality, we get to the real laughs when it comes to the 3,075 mock “reviews” from people who claim life altering experiences with this invention.

March 3, 2011:   No more winning for you, Mr. Banana!
For decades I have been trying to come up with an ideal way to slice a banana. "Use a knife!" they say. Well...my parole officer won't allow me to be around knives. "Shoot it with a gun!" Background check...HELLO! I had to resort to carefully attempt to slice those bananas with my bare hands.  Banana slicer...thanks to you, I see greatness on the horizon.

July 30, 2012:  Saved my marriage
What can I say about the 571B Banana Slicer that hasn't already been said about the wheel, penicillin, or the iPhone.... this is one of the greatest inventions of all time. My husband and I would argue constantly over who had to cut the day's banana slices. It's one of those chores NO ONE wants to do! You know, the old "I spent the entire day rearing OUR children, maybe YOU can pitch in a little and cut these bananas? … That's when I found the 571B Banana Slicer. Our marriage has never been healthier … THANKS 571B BANANA SLICER!

August 3, 2012:  GREAT gift
Once I figured out I had to peel the banana before using - it works much better.
Ordering one for my nephew who's in the air force in California. He's been using an old slinky to slice his bananas.  He should really enjoy this product!

August 10, 2012:  A Military Endorsement
I have served in the US Army for over 12 years. I can say that there is technology being used by the military that is rarely seen in the civilian sector. Once in a while, however, an amazing product is released by the DoD for civilian use. The 571B is one of those products. Although once called the M571B Tactical Banana Slicer (TBS)V1, they have declassified it for public use. I am glad to see this product on the market today but I will warn you now, this is a CIVILIAN model and not designed for field use!

September 24, 2012:  Such a time saver
No more throwing bananas at the ceiling fan for me! This product has saved me the work of peeling the banana slices off the wall after the fan slices them. Thanks, banana slicer!


And the list of laughs continues, 3,070 more times.  Thousands of people have taken the time to throw their own mockery into the mix, and it became one of last fall’s most popular internet memes. 

But here’s the kicker.  Sales for this silly little device have gone through the roof!  According to Businessweek.com, the Hutzler 571 Banana Slicer rose to number two in overall sales in Amazon.com’s mandolin and slicer subcategory! [1]  Not bad for a tiny manufacturing company in Connecticut with a scant marketing budget!


THOSE SILLY METHODISTS

As People Called Methodist, we have seen this kind of phenomenon before.  It’s in our heritage.  Back in nineteenth century England, a young Anglican priest named John Wesley began a reform movement within the Church of England by focusing on personal piety and social holiness.  He assembled a band of fellow Christians committed to living their lives with diligent, focused attention on the routines of daily discipleship.  They became so regimented in their day-to-day patterns of prayer, worship, Bible study, and service to the community that soon they garnered some unsavory attention from outsiders. 

There was no amazon.com comment section back then, but the mock reviews flowed in from the general public, who jabbed Wesley and his colleagues as being too “methodical.”  If the internet existed, it would have become a meme.  If there were Twitter, “Methodist” would have been trending.  Eventually, their comments went viral.

But, just like the Huntzler company that makes banana slicers, Wesley used the mockery to his advantage:

I say those who are called Methodists; for, let it be well observed, that this is not a name which they take to themselves, but one fixed upon them by way of reproach, without their approbation or consent. It was first given to three or four young men at Oxford, by a student of Christ Church; either in allusion to the ancient sect of Physicians so called, from their teaching, that almost all diseases might be cured by a specific method of diet and exercise, or from their observing a more regular method of study and behaviour than was usual with those of their age and station.

I should rejoice (so little ambitious am I to be at the head of any sect or party) if the very name might never be mentioned more, but be buried in eternal oblivion. But if that cannot be, at least let those who will use it, know the meaning of the word they use. Let us not always be fighting in the dark. Come, and let us look one another in the face. And perhaps some of you who hate what I am called, may love what I am by the grace of God; or rather, what "I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus."  (from The Character of a Methodist, 1782)  [3]

Isn’t that wonderful?  Our very name comes from Wesley’s clever twisting of a snide insult, flipping it into a marketing tool that the CEO of Huntzler could appreciate.  Rather than engage those who were attacking them at their level, he refused to “fight them in the dark,” and extracted from their barbs a way to reinforce “who he was by the grace of God:” a person of uncompromising commitment, passionate discipline, and patterned obedience to the way of Jesus.


FASTING TO FREEDOM

That same “methodical” approach undergirds our current sermon series on tending the soul.  This Sunday, we will explore the discipline that is often the most overlooked and least understood.  Fasting, we will discover, is more than just refraining from food for a period of time.  It is a deeply intentional effort to recalibrate our attention and reset our daily rhythms around the mind and heart of Christ.

Perhaps no other spiritual discipline will return you to being methodical in your discipleship better than this one. 

So join us this Sunday as I share some theological and biblical insights into the discipline of fasting, along with some practical tips that are especially helpful for those who have never fasted before.  And I’ll even invite you to participate in a congregation-wide fasting experience next week.  This Lenten season may be the perfect time for you to try it for the first time. 

Together, let us “apprehend that for which also we are apprehended of Christ Jesus!”

Grace and Peace,

Magrey 

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA  51012
Ph:  712-225-3955
Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org

[1] http://www.amazon.com/Hutzler-5717-571-Banana-Slicer/dp/B0047E0EII/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top
[2] http://www.businessweek.com/articles/2013-01-15/selling-banana-slicers-and-more-with-gag-reviews
[3] http://www.umcmission.org/Find-Resources/Global-Worship-and-Spiritual-Growth/The-Wesleys-and-Their-Times/The-Character-of-a-Methodist



UPDATE ON THE KITCHEN AND DINING HALL

What is the status of the reconstruction?
There have been some significant developments in the last week in our negotiations with the insurance company, but the bottom line is that there is still about a $250,000 gap between the proposed settlement and the actual costs of reconstruction.

Why is there still such a gap?
What constitutes the largest part of the difference is not upgrades to the appliances, new decorative finishes, or any extra amenities we might add to the kitchen and dining hall.  Those costs are quite minimal relative to the overall project.  Instead, the difference lies in the costs needed to bring the areas up to state and local code requirements.  Those were identified last summer by our architect, who worked closely with state and local officials, and include the new exhaust hoods, fire rated doors, accessibility in the northeast stairwell from the sanctuary, and all requisite mechanical, plumbing, and infrastructural support.  To date, the insurance company is only offering $60,000 to cover those costs.

What are the significant developments from the past week?
Back in January, our insurance company brought in a third party appraiser that specializes in churches to determine what it would take to put the kitchen back to its prior condition.  That third party company is called Guide One Taylor Ball, and their representative spent three days over a period of a few weeks conducting their study.  Thanks to Don Witcombe, who spent over twenty hours working with him, Guide One identified about $40,000 of costs which our claims adjuster missed.  This past week, we received the latest settlement proposal from the insurance company, which accounted for that $40,000 increase.  However, the amount for code coverage was still only $60,000, with our adjuster claiming that our policy does not cover more than that amount for code items.

Can’t we move forward with the project without the hoods and changes to the stairwell, and look at overlooking some of these code requirements?
Now that these items have been identified based on due diligence conversations with state and local officials, we will not be able to later plead ignorance about those requirements, thereby putting ourselves at risk of serious penalties.  Also, since we were forced to switch to a new insurance company this past January 1, there is a strong likelihood that the new company will require us to make these code changes in the future anyway.

So, how are we moving forward?
Because we just received this settlement proposal last week, we have been in regular contact with the insurance company.  Magrey and lay leadership have been conversing with the claims adjuster on a daily basis, attempting to gain further information about their rational, along with explaining our position.  As we gain further clarity about the details of our situation, we will be able to determine the best path forward.  As always, if you have any questions, contact Don Witcombe (Trustees), John Cook (Finance), Gene Anderson, or Magrey.  

What is the Soul?

Dear Lenten Pilgrims,

In 1901, a scientist named Duncan MacDougall conducted an odd set of experiments to test an unusual question:  What is the weight of the human soul?

He monitored six patients, very close to death from a terminal case of tuberculosis, by placing them each on a giant scale.  Then, at the exact moment that they died, he noted the drop in their body weight, surmising that it was precisely then that their souls left their bodies.  He noted that, on average, the bodies dropped twenty-one grams when they died.

So his conclusion?  The human soul weighs exactly twenty-one grams.  [1]

Of course, MacDougall’s work has since been debunked as folly, but his inquiry follows a long line of historical pursuits on the nature of the human soul.  You may not have given the matter much thought, but if you really think about it, what do we mean when we talk about our souls?

The Bible certainly seems interested in the matter, as its pages teem with references to that mysterious part of our existence.  The Hebrew word nephesh and the Greek word psyche, most often translated as soul, occur over eight hundred times throughout the Scriptures.  Our Christian conversations are inundated with its usage, with popular phrases like “Bless my soul,” “God rest his soul,” “Don’t tell a soul,” and “Bare my soul.”  Even John Wesley emphasized it, requiring that every class meeting of Methodists include the question, “How is it with your soul?” at its inception.

Clearly, a Methodist needs to know what a soul is in order to answer how the soul is doing.

So what do we talk about when we talk about the soul?  Our Western understanding comes primarily from Greek philosophers, especially Plato and Aristotle.  Plato defined the soul as having three parts, fueling the three primary centers of our body:  the mind (intellect), the heart (emotion), and the gut (instinct and passion.)  The soul is greater and deeper than one’s thoughts, feelings, and instincts, for it gives life to all three.  Aristotle believed that the soul was not, as Duncan MacDougall surmised, separate from our material bodies.  Instead, it is the primary animating principle at work from the very first moment we are alive.

So, perhaps a suitable first part of a definition of the soul is that it is the source of our lives.

But there’s more.  As Christian people, we believe that our souls were given to us as gifts from God, breathed into us at the moment we were created.  As a result, the soul’s innate function is to draw us into a deeper relationship with God.  Just as the giver and receiver of a gift can become closer to one another after the gift is exchanged, God’s gift of our souls prompt us to long for that which is greater than ourselves.

That’s why so many of the Psalms that mention the soul do so with such a profound yearning for God.  “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs after You,” declares Psalm 42.  “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Hope in God and praise him, my Savior and my God,” says Psalm 43.  Even the great hymn “How Great Thou Art” speaks of a soul that reaches out to God.  “Then sings my soul / my Savior God, to Thee / How great Thou art.”

So, here’s my own, personal, two-part definition of the soul: “The soul is the source of our lives that connects us to the Source of All Life.”

However, there is still one more important component.  In order for us to draw closer to God, back to the giver of the gift, and have an intimate connection between creatures and Creator, our souls need to be tended.  They need to be nurtured, cared for, and expressed, if they are to fulfill their purpose of drawing us to the Source of All Life.

That’s why we will be spending these weeks of Lent focusing on the sacred task of soul-tending.  Each Sunday, we will learn about different aspects of the soul, and experience an array of practical techniques designed to free our souls from the weighty encumbrances of sinful living, in order to point us toward the God who gave us life.  In doing so, we will follow Jesus to the cross, who said, rather plainly, “All who want to come after me must say no to themselves, take up their cross, and follow me. All who want to save their souls (psyche) will lose them. But all who lose their souls because of me and because of the good news will save them.” (Mark 8:34-35)

Grace and Peace,

Magrey

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA  51012
Ph:  712-225-3955
Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org

[1] For this and other quirky stories of the human pursuit of the afterlife, I recommend Mary Roach’s delightful book Spook:  Science Tackles the Afterlife.

Tending the Soul
Principles and Practices for the Spiritual Life

February 24
“Be Still My Soul”
Stillness and Silence

March 3
“My Soul Looks Up to Thee”
Prayer and Fasting

March 10
“My Soul Longeth for Thee”
Scripture Reading and Study

March 17
Special Concert by
David and Judi Klee

March 24
“A Soul in Action”
Acts of Compassion and Justice

March 27
“Let This Cup Pass from Me”
Maundy Thursday Service

March 28
Good Friday Service

March 31
“A Soul Filled with Praise”
Easter Sunday 

Who Are You Fooling?

January 30, 2013,

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

Among the many unexpected joys during my continuing education event in California last week was a stop at the Fingerhut Gallery of Laguna Beach to see an exhibit called “The Secret Art of Dr. Seuss.”   It showcases commissioned reproductions of some of Seuss’ works that had not been published in any of his books. 
  
One of the pieces that caught my attention was a watercolor titled “Fooling Nobody,” painted in 1968.   At first glance, the point of the picture seems simple:  The creature below is attempting to conceal his true nature by displaying a false self in the form of a headpiece.   Despite his best efforts, he fools no one.  The point seems obvious enough.

However, given that both the creature and headpiece are equally animated, determining which is the true self and which is the false self is a bit more ambiguous.  Is the real creature, in fact, the smaller being, attempting to hide his self-consciousness and insecurity by projecting a more confident image?  Or is he instead the bold, unfettered, and free creature, having to tame himself into a more timid, amenable, and composed person?  It is difficult, if not impossible, to determine which is which.

I think that’s why I like the painting so much.  Perhaps Seuss was denigrating neither timidity nor bravado, but the inability to embrace our weakness and find balance in our personality.  Most of us are so intent on hiding our weaknesses that we will do anything to repress them and convey the opposite to others.  We are weak, so we project strength.  We are angry, so we project calm.  We are foolish, so we project wisdom.  We are selfish, so we project compassion.  We are constantly trying to compensate for that which we fear is deep inside us. 

The problem is that in our efforts to repress the shadow side of our personality, we can become the very thing we are trying to escape. 

Carl Jung, the great pioneer of modern psychology, coined the term enantiodromia from the Greek words “enantios” (opposite) and “dromos” (running to) to explain how, in our efforts to run away from our weaknesses, we become the very weakness we are avoiding.  It states that a superabundance of any force inevitably produces the opposite result. 

• A person, wishing to hide his foolishness, pursues knowledge, to the point where he becomes ignorant about emotional and relational matters. 
• A person represses her anger by projecting such extreme composure that she frustrates a loved one that attempts to engage her. 
• A person avoids his inner pain through so many pleasurable experiences that he becomes desensitized from any kind of enduring joy. 
• A person dealing with feelings of abandonment strives to be so involved in the lives of loved ones that her smothering drives people away. 
  

The list could go on and on, and eventually touch you in the deepest part of your own struggles.  All of us, without exception, have shadowy elements to our personality, which we would rather not acknowledge for ourselves, let alone others.  However, denying that they exist only amplifies their destructive power, and our best efforts to project a more positive face before others…well, fools nobody.

A better option than denial is surrender.  It comes from the courage to name our shadows and dare to ask what in those weaknesses can be redeemed and reclaimed for your personality to become whole. 

• Can anything be redeemed from the shadow side of anger?  (Perhaps a righteous fervor against injustice in the world.)
• Can anything be redeemed from the shadow side of foolishness?  (Perhaps a humility that grounds a lifelong curiosity.)
• Can anything be redeemed from the shadow side of irresponsibility?  (Perhaps a freedom that comes from childlike, uninhibited playfulness.)
• Can anything be redeemed from the shadow side of pain?  (Perhaps an embrace of the cross, and an invitation to the cruciform life.)
  

In a moment of great candor, Paul acknowledged to the Corinthian church a “thorn in his flesh,” a weakness that caused him great debilitation and difficulty.  Yet, because he was able to name his weakness and surrender it to God, he was able to extract from it a redemptive quality that made him more whole and complete:

“(The Lord) said to me, ‘My grace is enough for you, because power is made perfect in weakness.’  So I’ll gladly spend my time bragging about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power can rest on me.  Therefore, I’m all right with weaknesses, insults, disasters, harassments, and stressful situations for the sake of Christ, because when I’m weak, then I’m strong.”

The cure for enantiodromia is a balanced self, one in which a person embraces, rather than ignores, the shadow side of their personality.  That is my prayer for you, as I trust it will be yours for me.  Let us become weak, so that in Christ we may be strong.

Grace and Peace,

Magrey 

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA  51012
Ph:  712-225-3955
Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org



YOUTH SKI TRIP
Youth grades 7-12 are invited now to register to attend our annual ski trip on February 23.  Permission slips are now available in the church office and must be signed and returned this week.  This Sunday will feature our Super Bowl snack sale to support the trip, and you can participate by bringing snack items to the church before the service. 

MAGREY OUT OF TOWN FEBRUARY 4-13
The girls and I will be traveling down to Florida to finally celebrate Christmas with my family (now that post-holiday airline fares are finally back down to a reasonable price).  We will be leaving on Monday, February 4, and returning on Wednesday, February 13.  A guest minister will be preaching on February 10.  In the event of an emergency, please contact the church office.   The Mid-Week Message will resume during the week of February 18.

A Prayer for Inauguration Day

January 21, 2013

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

With the eyes of our nation focused on Washington D.C. and the inauguration of President Barack Obama, here is a prayer I wrote which you might choose to offer today.
 

A Prayer for Inauguration Day

Gracious and Holy God, whose mind conceived a world resplendent with beauty and goodness, whose heart envisioned a people governed by your love, and whose timeless eye has witnessed the rise and fall of history’s kingdoms, we pray to you as a nation humbled by the burdens of freedom. 

This precious gift you have granted to us - the free will to choose our own destiny, to enjoy the triumphs of our prudence, and to live with the consequences of our mistakes – bears a responsibility to appeal to wisdom beyond ourselves, and to serve an interest greater than our own.

And so, O Lord, on this day in which we inaugurate a new term for the leaders of this land, clarify our commitment to you and the aims of your kingdom.  Remind us that our primary citizenship is defined neither by borders or ideologies, but by a Love that called us into being, and calls us into service. 

Grant to our President Barack Obama and Vice President Joe Biden a wisdom to discern the common good from political expedience, the way of justice from the way of disparity, the embrace of self-evident equality from the division of harmful self-interest, and the currency of love from the gluttony of greed. 

We are a people in need today, for too many yet sleep in hunger and wander the streets without shelter.  There are those whose finances are depleted by a worrisome economy and crushed by the burdens of unemployment.  We are engaged in wars too costly to calculate, and families are separated from loved ones serving overseas.  Our cities are marred by the bloodshed of violence, and there are those whose inability to access affordable health care prevents even a basic standard of life.  We yearn for the day when every valley will be raised up, every mountain brought low, and all our rough places plain. 

Yet, in all things, and even throughout the course of this inaugural day, remind us that our hope and promise rest not in manufactured systems of power, but in you alone.  Forgive us, O Lord, for relying on our government to grant us that which only you can provide:  security from all harm, an ethic of love, and a mutual embrace of one another as your children. 

Therefore, call us together, as your holy people and the living body of your son Jesus Christ, to live out your bidding as builders of your kingdom.  As we pray for our President and all of our elected officials, lead us into new endeavors to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with you.  Show us more opportunities to put your love into action here and abroad.  Empower us to effect change, both in and through our systems of government.  And may the inaugural words of your son Jesus Christ be true in its telling today: 

“Today, the Scriptures have been fulfilled in your hearing.” 

In your holy name we pray, Amen.


Grace and Peace,

Magrey

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA  51012
Ph:  712-225-3955
Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org



MAGREY IN CALIFORNIA
Later this afternoon I will be flying to Laguna Beach, California, for a continuing education event called “CraftLab” with noted author and preacher Rob Bell.  It is a workshop reserved for only fifty people, who will work with Mr. Bell to brainstorm creative ways to conceive, construct, and deliver sermons.  It takes place Tuesday and Wednesday, and I’ll be back in town Thursday night.  In the event of an emergency, please contact the church office.

SUPER BOWL SNACK SALE FEBRUARY 3
Once again, the youth group will be hosting a snack sale on Super Bowl Sunday, February 3, to raise money for their upcoming ski trip.  All youth wishing to come on the trip are expected to assist with the sale and provide items.  If you are interested in contributing items for the sale, please bring them to church that morning.  For more information, contact Lisa Sampson.


To view past editions of the Mid-Week Message, visit http://mdevega.blogspot.com <http://mdevega.blogspot.com/>  
To unsubscribe from this e-mail distribution list, please reply to this e-mail and write "UNSUBSCRIBE" in the subject line.
Visit us on Facebook at facebook.com/cherokeespumc.

The Time I Ran Away from Home

January 15, 2013

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

Leave it up to family to keep you humble.

I am sending this message to you from Florida, where I am spending the week with the Florida Conference Board of Ordained Ministry to interview candidates for ministry.  Prior to beginning our work, I spent some time celebrating my fortieth birthday with my parents, my two brothers, and their families.

It did not take long into our dinner before my loving younger brothers turned the meal from “celebrate” Magrey into “roast” Magrey.  Forget respecting your elders.  Throw pastoral deference out the window.  And that pedestal on which some of you may place me?  It’s more like a dunk tank to the two of them.  They were quick to offer their most embarrassing memories they had of me:

“Remember the time we played baseball in the front yard and you bruised your ribs crashing into our neighbor’s bushes?” one of them said.

“How about the time you hit your head so hard on the metal frame of the sliding glass door that we saw electrical sparks fly off your head?” the other one chimed in gleefully.

“Do you remember that time you thought you were a ninja and you kicked a gigantic crack in the wall?”  Their laughter had hit high gear.

And as it turned out, my brothers were not the only ones who jumped into the fun.

“Remember when you were little and couldn’t pronounce your name?” My mom loves to tell this story.  “We’d say, ‘What’s your name?’  And you’d say, ‘Mah-GAH-bah-gah.’”

“And you were so afraid of the dark.  One night, when we turned off the lights for you to go to sleep, you screamed in panic, ‘I CAN’T SEE MY FACE!’”

“And then there was the time you took swimming lessons, and you were so afraid of the water that you threw up on the side of the pool!”

“Oh, and remember the time you ran away from home?”

Okay, let me explain that one.

I was about three years old when I visited my parents’ family in the Philippines.  Over the few months of my extended visit, I had gotten to know several of my younger, school-aged cousins.  Every morning, they walked to school, leaving me behind until their return in the afternoon.  Naturally, the concept of school was quite foreign to a kid my age, and I wondered what they did during the day when they were gone.  So, one day, curiosity got the best of me.  I got up early one morning and, unbeknownst to my parents, walked right out the front door, joined up with my cousins, and followed them to the Silonay Elementary School.

My parents, realizing I was nowhere in the house to be found, began to panic.  Eventually, one of my mother’s sisters found me at the school and brought me home.  “Guess who I found at the school,” she told my mother.  “And he’s still wearing his pajamas.  And, look.  There’s a giant rip in the seat of his pants.”  There’s no reason to admit to you that last part of the story, except it was true, and it adds to the comedic embarrassment of the whole fiasco.  Overnight, I had simultaneously become a runaway, a fashion icon, and a streaker, all at the age of three. 


THIS SUNDAY:  JESUS THE RUNAWAY

There’s more about the story that I don’t recall, like what my parents said to me when they found me.  And I certainly don’t remember what I told them.  But as I prepare for this Sunday’s sermon, I kind of wish I had been able to quote for them this passage from Luke 2:49:

“Why were you looking for me? Didn’t you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father’s house?”  

On second thought, maybe only Jesus could get away with talking to his parents like that. 

We are in the midst of a new sermon series called “The Boy Who Would Be King,” chronicling the childhood stories of Jesus in Luke’s gospel.  There’s very little that we know about his life between ages one to thirty, so any story about Jesus as a youth must be there for a reason.  Of the four gospels, Luke is the only one to tell us stories about Jesus as a boy and his developing understanding of who he was.  In John’s gospel, Jesus is clearly aware of his divinity from the very beginning of time.  In Mark, and to a certain degree Matthew, the divinity of Jesus does not come into clear focus until the moment of his baptism.  But in Luke, these tender years of Jesus’ adolescence were incredibly important, as he “grew up and became strong….and God’s favor was on him.”

Why study Luke’s portrayal of Jesus’ early years?  It’s simple:  they echo our own spiritual journeys.  We, too, are called to a steady, developing maturity in our faith.  We need to “grow up,” and “become strong,” and “be filled with God’s wisdom.”  And, there are some watershed moments in our lives when we have to leave the cozy confines of the life we have been living and spend time in diligent, rigorous spiritual pursuits.  In short, it is necessary for us to spend time in our Father’s house.

I hope you’ll join us this Sunday as we dig deeper into this unusual story, and discover together what it means to “mature in wisdom and years,” and to have God’s favor upon us.

Grace and Peace,

Magrey  


The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA  51012
Ph:  712-225-3955
Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org



Luke 2:41-52
41 Each year his parents went to Jerusalem for the Passover Festival.
42 When he was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem according to their custom.
43 After the festival was over, they were returning home, but the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents didn’t know it.
44 Supposing that he was among their band of travelers, they journeyed on for a full day while looking for him among their family and friends.
45 When they didn’t find Jesus, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him.
46 After three days they found him in the temple. He was sitting among the teachers, listening to them and putting questions to them.
47 Everyone who heard him was amazed by his understanding and his answers.
48 When his parents saw him, they were shocked.  His mother said, “ Child, why have you treated us like this? Listen! Your father and I have been worried. We’ve been looking for you! ”
49 Jesus replied, “ Why were you looking for me? Didn’t you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father’s house? ”
50 But they didn’t understand what he said to them.
51 Jesus went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. His mother cherished every word in her heart.
52 Jesus matured in wisdom and years, and in favor with God and with people.
  

Water from Home

January 8, 2013

Dear St. Paul's Family,

It's funny the memories that come to mind on the eve of one's fortieth birthday. I've been spending time over the last week reminiscing over all the people, places, and life stage events that have marked my four decades on this earth.  As those memories converged with my preparations for this Sunday's sermon, my thoughts converged on a certain mundane object:  a yellow Tupperware water pitcher.

Until 1995, when I was twenty-two years old, I had never lived more than thirty minutes from my childhood home.  I attended the same school for twelve years, gone to college in my hometown, and even moved back to live with my parents for a year after graduation as God was calling me into ministry. Then, in 1995, my family loaded up my belongings in a cargo van and drove me nearly 1,000 miles to my new residence for the next three years, United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio.

After my parents and two brothers helped me unpack my boxes and settle into my on-campus apartment, I felt a pit in my gut as I watched them drive away for their long trek back to Florida.  My first year in seminary was a time of rapid, jarring adjustment, a mixture of theological maturation, career discernment, and, of course, profound homesickness.

Soon after my family left, I noticed they left in my refrigerator a water pitcher that my mother had filled with kitchen tap water prior to our trip up to Ohio, for us to drink along the way.  It was water from Florida, water from my family, water from home.  I'm still sheepish to admit this now, but given that I turn forty tomorrow, I'm a bit less reluctant to admit some of the more childish things I believed and did when I was younger.

So do you want to know what I did?

For a whole year, I refused to drink the water from that pitcher.  It stayed in the back of my refrigerator, right where my mother left it.  It was my singular connection to home, to my roots, and to my identity.  So, I chose to cherish it, preserve it, and let it remind me of who I was.  Whenever I was homesick, I merely had to open the refrigerator, and know that despite all the traumatic change happening around me and within me, I always had a bit of home right there with me.  

We tend to journey through life in an arc, not a straight line.  The older we get, the more we realize that life is not a succession of past-present-future, but of growing up at home, leaving home, and eventually longing for home.  For some of us, that home is a return to a physical place, with loved ones who have always been part of our journey.  For others of us, even most of us, home is the experience of discovering who we really are, who we are meant to be, and who we have been all along.

For people of faith like us, those moments of epiphany are symbolized by another kind of water.  Not that which is contained in a yellow Tupperware pitcher, but that which is given freely to us as an outward and visible sign of our membership in God's family.

Whenever we are homesick, longing to return to an experience of unconditional love, we need only remember our baptism. Whenever we struggle with our identity - who we are and why we are here - we need only remember our baptism. Whenever we feel lost on a wayward course, feeling alone and discouraged, we need only remember our baptism.  Whenever we wonder if there is a God, and where that God is in the midst of our hardship, we need only remember our baptism.  And when we feel stretched by the pressure to please everyone around us, including the harshest critic within us, we need only remember the baptismal words of God:  “You are my child, my beloved, and in you I am well pleased.”

Join me this Sunday for a service in which we will remember our baptism and reaffirm our baptismal vows.  Together, let’s head for home.

Grace and Peace,

Magrey  

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA  51012
Ph:  712-225-3955
Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org




YEAR-END THANK YOU!
Thank you, St. Paul's UMC, for your faithful stewardship over the past year! We are grateful to announce that we have finished 2012 by paying all of our expenses, including 100% of our apportionments, and it looks like we will again achieve third-mile status in our giving to local and global missions. Thanks be to God for your generosity!

IMPORTANT MEETING TODAY
Several important lay leaders of this church have been very active over the past several weeks negotiating with our insurance company on a final settlement for our kitchen and dining hall.  We started with a $400,000 gap between what they were offering and our estimates for construction, and now we are still $250,000 apart.  Today, our insurance company is bringing in a third-party, independent claims adjuster who specializes in church facilities.  That person will be accompanied by our own architects and our own lay leaders as they conduct a walk-through in our damaged areas and come up with another estimate.  Please be in prayer for that meeting today.  Thank you for your patience throughout this time of transition, and thank you for your prayers as we work to bring this to a resolution soon.

A St. Paul's Christmas Carol

Here is the text of the rhyming sermon I preached this Christmas Eve, 2012.  Merry Christmas!

(For ease of oral recitation, the underlined portions indicate the syllable that serves as the first stressed foot of the tetrameter.)

“A St. Paul’s Christmas Carol”

December 4, 2012

Luke 2:1-20

Here we are, once again, on this most sacred eve

To hear of a great tale that we’ve long believed

Of Joseph and Mary, of Christ’s holy birth

Of shepherds and angels, a star above earth

But if we are honest, and if you’re like me

There’s maybe a staleness to this great story

We’ve heard it so often that we have grown numb

Of the meaning of Christmas and God’s only Son. 

Maybe, if we’re honest, we’re missing a spark

Something that makes us feel so lost in the dark.

A feeling that wrinkles the brows on our faces

A sadness that haunts on an ongoing basis.

You hear folks around you wish holiday cheer

Yet, try as you might, joy comes nowhere near.

News of injustice, and violence, and grief

It’s tough to feel joy and maintain our belief -

Belief in a God who can bring us good news;

You’re much less like Santa, and a lot more like Scrooge

The same Scrooge we saw portrayed live on the stage

The same one that wonderful Dave Zelle played

There’s a bit of old Scrooge in each one of us, friends

There’s a part of us longing for hope to begin.

So come, then, dear Scrooges, on a trip we will go

And take it from Marley, there is much to show

We’ll visit three places, and three times, three sites

Of Christmas Past, Present, and Future tonight.

Our first stop is long ago into the past,

Back when our town was a wilderness, vast

Back when our roads were just dusty footpaths

Back a long time – a century and a half!

Before Knobens and Cooks and before Appleby’s

Before the Phipps, and the Pyles, even before Marlene Kelly

Before Lundell’s and Lunquist’s, Deichmann’s, DeRoos,

Before any were here … even, Sherry Held, too

We find ourselves now near the Little Sioux River

Its thick layer of ice gives a cool, shiny shimmer

We look all around, and there’s no one to see

No streets, and no buildings, no nearby city.

We’re surrounded by woods, in the distance, some hills

It all seems so cold here, we’re getting a chill.

As we stood there all feeling so cold with remorse

A man came up near us while riding a horse

He was gruff looking, tall, with a thin gangly frame

His thick coat had tears, and his pants were the same

He had a long beard, and a tired, worn-out look

It’s like he jumped straight off a history book

We worked up the courage to say hi to the man

And told him we’re visitors to this strange land.

“Travelers, huh?” the man said, “I’m one too.

“My name’s O.S. Wight, and it’s nice to meet you.

“I’ve traveled some distance to this desolate land.

“In the hopes of my following God’s mighty plan.

“You see, I’m a preacher, a Methodist brand.

“And God’s called me here to come settle new land.

“It’s just me and my wife, and this horse and some stuff.

“It’s about all we’ve got, but with God, it’s enough.

“We think that this place is a suitable spot.

“To set up a town, and a church – the whole lot.

“So I can’t give a name to this town here, just yet.

“But it’s now Christmas Eve, 1858. 

We blink, disbelieving that where we all stood

Would someday be a Cherokee neighborhood

And here’s Reverend Wight, the Methodist preacher

The one who was Cherokee’s original settler.

And the cool thing is now we just happen to be

Here for the first Christmas in Cherokee.

He invited us back to his home for a bit.

He said, “You all look tired, come on in for a sit.”

His house was quite basic, a one-room wood frame.

A small fire gave us some good warmth with its flame.

We met his wife, who came to greet us warmly

We’re touched by this couples’ hospitality

“Join us for dinner,” she told us, “All of you.”

“It’s not a whole lot, but it’s good Christmas stew.”

We sat their table, the fire made us feel warm.

Our eyes drifted around, and we studied the room.

In the corner, we spotted a rattle and doll.

And a small pretty dress, on a hook on the wall.

“Do you have a child, Reverend and Mrs. Wight?”

Then we noticed their faces began to turn white.

“We did,” the man said, but then … his voice got real quiet

“Well, this harsh frontier life…she didn’t quite make it.

“She got sick, and, well, we just couldn’t save her.

“We buried her on a hill not far from the river.

We sat in stunned silence, since words have escaped us

To say to those who’ve lost a child before Christmas

Before we all ate, Reverend Wight said, “Let’s pray.”

“Dear God,” he began, “we give thanks for this day.

“For on this good night many long years ago

“You gave us yourself, to the world you did show

“Born not in a palace, where royalty sits.

“Not in a castle with kings dwelling in it.

“You entered where outcasts were pushed to the fringe

“Where the lonely and lost and the lowly had been.

“You were born in humanity’s sorrows and fears.

“Just like out here, way out in the frontier.

“So bless us, dear Lord, once again with your love.

“Bless us with courage to share grace from above.

“And may all of our efforts to start this new town.

“And to plant a small church on this, your holy ground

“Be around after we have long left this grand earth.

“So those in the future can hear news of Christ’s birth.

“We won’t be here forever, that much is sure.

“So use all we do to ensure the future.

“May you find us faithful, until our life’s end.

“And may your love endure, in your name, Amen.

We opened our eyes and we sat very still.

To hear our church founder pray was quite a thrill.

O.S. Wight, long ago, imagined each one of us.

And knew that we all would need life in Jesus.

So he risked all that he had, and he and his wife

Sacrificed all they were so that we would have life.

They believed in the church, and the good it could do

To save who’d come after them, like me and like you

The Wight’s took God’s love and then gave it away

To do so is part of St. Paul’s DNA. 

Then suddenly, out of the blue, in a flash,

We were all whisked away in a hyper-speed dash.

Through time and through space, we moved out at light speed.

And landed back here, in present Cherokee.

As we look around town, all is calm, all is bright

All things seem to be as they should be tonight.

It’s Christmas Eve here, and the town looks quite nice

With its hanging greenery and its twinkling lights

There’s Christmas trees up in our homes and our places

Presents beneath them to light up our kids’ faces

Tonight, they will sleep safely tucked in their beds

With visions of sugarplums stuck in their heads

But behind some closed doors is a more somber sight

Invisible to most, but we see them tonight.

The first is a couple, forlorn, at their table

Neither are smiling because they’re not able.

Between them are papers, and one says, “Foreclosure”

It dawns on us what are the burdens they shoulder.

At once, we dash off, and appear once again.

In another one’s home, and we see an old man.

He stares at a picture of his wife who just died

His first Christmas alone, without her by his side.

In a blink we are whisked to another household

And we see a room full of folks both young and old.

In the middles’ a woman, looking torn with great tension

Her family’s surrounded her for an intervention.

In an instant we see yet another sad place.

This one is a young couple, they’re face to face.

For years they have tried to make their marriage last.

But there’s just too much hurt that they just can’t get past.

We dash to another part of Cherokee

And next there’s a young girl that all of us see

She stares into space, as if into thin air.

And says, quietly, “God, I don’t know if you’re there.”

And then, finally, in another one’s home,

In an upstairs bedroom, sitting there, all alone.

Is a young little girl, and as faint as can be

She says to her teddy bear: “Won’t someone love me?”

One by one, around town, behind many closed doors,

We saw all the hurt that is present for sure.

All around us, right now, on this Christmas present

There’s a pain that makes our hearts all yearn for Advent.

It’s the Christmas we don’t see, but that we all feel

The one deep inside once the surface is peeled.

Beneath all the holiday, plastic good cheer

Is a cold, chilly feeling, like on the frontier.

Then we remember what O.S. Wight prayed

For those who were lonely and feeling afraid

We remembered that he lived believing the church 

Could give hope to people who were lost in their search

Looking for peace, and longing for hope 

Looking for ways in the darkness to cope

But what of these people that we’ve seen tonight?

How will their lives turn around toward the light?

With all of their heartache and all of their grief?

And all of their doubts that prevent their belief?

What of the addict, the marriage that’s ripped?

Financial distress, or the fears that are gripped?

What about those for whom Christmas ain’t Merry?

Could there be those folks here right in this sanctuary?

This present day Christmas is not all it can be

For those who are suffering in sheer misery

Well, there’s one final trip we must take, you all know

It’s on to the future that we all must go.

We forge years ahead, year Twenty-Forty-Two (2042)

Thirty years following all of us, me and you.

We look around town, and not too much has changed

Nothing seems out of place, nothing seems strange

We pick up a newspaper and scan the day’s news

The front page contains a full year in review

Apple just came out with iPhone Fifteen

And Rocky 20 debuted on the big screen

Cars in the future make sixty mpg

And Barney the Dinosaur’s still annoying to me

Computers are now the size of a strawberry

And, lo and behold!  The Cubs won the World Series

And here is good news that surely astounds

Thirty years later, Sherry Held’s still around!

So some things are different, but here it’s the same,

As we walk into St. Paul’s, still on 6^th and Main.

It’s Christmas Eve here, in year Twenty Fourty-Two.

There’s chrismon trees, lights, and an advent wreath, too.

It’s basically a lot like the St. Paul’s we have known.

‘Cause even the dining hall’s still not yet done.

We walk through the doors, as the service begins

The preacher seems nice, and he welcomes us in.

The choir is lovely, their songs tried and true

Lots of kids come down for children’s time, too

And then there’s the sermon, no gimmicky rhymes

Just a word about having Jesus in our lives.

The preacher asks anyone in the congregation 

If they’d like to share how they’ve seen God’s love in action.

Several hands shot up tall, and the first one stood up.

After clearing her throat, she began to speak up.

When she spoke, we realized she’s the one that we’d seen

As the one whom we saw in the present day scene.

She said, “Many years ago, my life was the pits.”

“On one Christmas Eve, I’d had ‘nuff of it.

“My family came over for an intervention

“And because of this church, I addressed my addiction

“Tonight I’ve been sober for thirty years now.

“Without God in my life, I wouldn’t know how.

There was some applause, then another one stood.

He was nervous, but spoke out the best that he could.

“Thirty years ago, on this night I was home

“Feeling so frightened, and so lost and alone.

“I had all these doubts about if God was true

“I was mad at the church, and at Christianity, too.

“I thought I could figure things out with my mind.

“And get over those Christians, hypocritical, unkind.

“But then one of you reached out to me in my grief.

“And God’s love put in action rekindled belief.

“Now, ‘cause of God, my life’s been turned around.

“Because all of you, my world’s turned upside down.

Another one stood, and her words stirred our hearts.

As she spoke of how Jesus gave her a new start.

She’d been through divorce, and miscarried a child.

She’d then lost her job, with a bankruptcy filed.

Someone at St. Paul’s then invited her here.

She joined a small group, and confronted her fears. 

So now on this Christmas, she came to tell all

That her life had been changed by this babe in a stall.

One by one, they came up, with a story to share.

Of how God’s love in action through St. Paul’s was there.

There to meet them in the midst of their tears

There, just like O.S. Wight on the frontier

There, like the shepherds on Christ’s holy birth

Went out to share God’s love to all in the earth

We realized, then, what this Christmas was for

It’s not about parties and gift giving galore

It’s about sharing God’s love with those who are down low

About giving ourselves to heal others’ sorrows

It’s about being the church in a world that needs hope  

About giving the downtrodden methods to cope

And maybe for some of you, you’re feeling blue

Because you don’t think there’s something that you can do

To combat the Scrooge that has set up a tent

Inside of your heart on this Christmas Present

Well, here’s some good news, for you there is no doubt

This Christ has been born in you, and him you can live out

No need to succumb to a culture that’s dark

Because in Christ alone, God can give you a spark

To live beyond who you thought you’d always been

To overcome all of your burdensome sin

To turn back your focus away from yourself

And renew a commitment to serve someone else

This God has a plan to do great work through you

With your unique abilities and giftedness, too

This God has a love for you that will persist

And is the grand reason that you even exist

This one is the God who made past, present, and future

And this God, this Christmas, will make you secure

In the knowledge and hope that this God has came near

To vanquish your worries and conquer all your fears.

Since over one hundred fifty years ago

This church, from its humblest beginnings, we know

Has shared the incarnate Word, Jesus made flesh

To everyone whose life has been in a mess.

It’s part of our heritage, and our DNA

To help those around us, and show them the way

The way to a new life of peace and goodwill

The way to a word of hope, and promise still

The way to salvation, of love born anew

The way that can save us, even me, even you.

So how will you celebrate Christmas come dawn?

More importantly, how will you live it from now on?

God has given a gift, Jesus heaven sent

So be the gift tomorrow, just as it is the present

In the name of the God who created the heavens,

Redeems us, sustains us, we all say, Amen.