Unnamed Heroes

August 26, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

Moments before the sermon last Sunday, I took a quick sip from one of the bottles of water stacked behind the pulpit.  It is a supply of about twenty bottles that just appeared one day nearly a year ago, and I have no idea who first put them there.  Every Sunday, when I finish a bottle, there is a fresh one to take its place the following week.   I’ve probably gone through dozens of bottles over the past year, but it is still as freshly stocked now as the day I first discovered this surprise gift.

To this day, I don’t know who is responsible for it, or even if they receive this Mid-Week Message for me to express my thanks.  But I am grateful for them.  Not just for the water, but for the reminder that the mission of the church is advanced not just by people in the spotlight, but by humble, faithful, and seemingly anonymous people like them.  These are people whose actions and impact are widespread, even if their identities are not. 

Consider all of the people whose anonymous activities in the Bible made huge differences in putting of God’s love into action.  In fact, let’s imagine putting them into something like a Hall of Unnamed Heroes, where we can finally acknowledge their contributions to the faith.  Were there literally such a Hall, it would be more prestigious than Canton or Cooperstown, for these people impacted the world through achievements that the Bible has recorded throughout time. 

·      When you first walk into the Hall, you might notice a little knapsack.  It’s the one that an anonymous little boy used to carry his lunch of bread and fish, which he willingly turned over to the disciples for Jesus to multiply into a feast.   (John 6:10-14)

·      Look down the way you’ll find a mat, used as a makeshift gurney by some anonymous friends to lower their paralyzed buddy through a rooftop, into a crowded house, and toward the healing hands of Jesus.  (Luke 5:19)

·      Don’t blink or you’ll miss the corner of the room, where an alabaster box is in proud display.  That’s the one that an unnamed woman used to pour some precious perfume, which she used to anoint Jesus’ feet.  It was an act of devotion and worship that Jesus used as an object lesson for the disciples.  (Luke 7:37)

·      Right next to it is a simple wooden crook, used as a staff by one of the shepherds when they were tending their flocks on the night the angels lit up the night sky with good news.  We don’t know their names, but we surely remember their joy.  (Luke 2:8-20)

·      In an open floor area of the Hall is a bale of hay and a leather strap.  It’s what some unnamed individual used to care for a young colt, which he had raised for months and kept from being ridden until he turned it over to the disciples for a special purpose:  as a courier for the King on the first Palm Sunday.  (Luke 19:28-38)

·      And don’t forget the two coins.  In a Hall this grand you are likely to miss them, sitting there in the Temple treasury box.  It’s what that lowly widow contributed one day, in an offering that went largely unnoticed, but caught the attention of Jesus. He turned that anonymous widow’s offering into a stirring illustration of generosity and sacrifice.  (Luke 21:1-4)

·      And in the middle of this grand Hall of Unnamed Heroes is a table.  It has seating for a guest of honor and twelve special friends.  And in the middle is a plate and a chalice, along with a basin and towel.  Who made the arrangements for the very first Last Supper?  We don’t know his name, but he owned that upper room, and he made sure that everything was set for this final feast among friends.   (Luke 22:7-13)

That’s just a small portion of the magnitude of people who have driven the mission of God forward across time.  You are among them, you know.  Never think for a moment that God’s love is put into action by just those of us who wear a collar, or are on a church’s payroll.  There are unnamed heroes among us, just like whoever it is that stocks the pulpit with water for me every Sunday.

·      Did you know, for example, that some of our church members come to trim the bushes around our sanctuary whenever they need it?  And that people have been coming to cut the church grass without need for public thanks?  Or weeded the south gardens to make sure it was presentable to the public?

·      The next time you fill out your attendance form with a freshly sharpened pencil, who do you think sharpened that pencil and placed in the pew for your use?

·      Last week, we printed new church directories for our office and lay committees, containing updated address and phone information for people in our congregation.  Two people have spent the better part of the past year updating our membership books, cross-referencing it to our membership software, and making sure that every bit of information in these directories is accurate.  And they don’t want to be publically thanked for it.

·      How about those beautiful flowers that have adorned our pulpit and lectern throughout these summer Sundays, especially when flowers have not been purchased for our altar?  Did you know that two women have faithfully brought beautiful, freshly cut flowers from their gardens to make sure that our chancel is always adorned with beauty.

.      Every Sunday, much of our worship content is shown on the screens, and there are two people who put together the Powerpoint presentations that make it happen.  Every hymn, every prayer, every scripture reading, all done with great care.  And they do this without the need for acknowledgment.  

·      How about our precious shut-ins and homebound residents?  Did you know that each week, they receive a visit from one of our church members, along with a CD recording of the previous Sunday service and a copy of our bulletin?

Oh, I could go on and on.  In a church like ours, with only one pastor, and a small group of part-time support staff, volunteer contributions of time and energy that might seem insignificant actually make a huge impact.  We all might not share the spotlight, but we can all share the light of Christ out of our talents and giftedness.   It’s no wonder that Jesus said “Those who are first will be last and the last will be first.”  And I’m so grateful for those of you who have “come not to be served, but to serve.”

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

FALL WORSHIP SCHEDULE

We resume our regular schedule on September 7, with Sunday school beginning at 9:00 and worship at 10:10.  Wednesday Teen Time for high schoolers begins on September 10 at 6:30pm at Craig and Monica Schmidt’s house, and music rehearsals for Bell Choir and Chancel choirs also begin on September 10. 

FURNITURE SILENT AUCTION

Starting this Sunday, items from the Feller Lounge will be sold via silent auction.  It will include a number of furniture pieces that will be replaced with new furnishings.  End tables, bookcases, and other items will be displayed in the hallway outside the office over the next three Sundays, and you can place an anonymous bid on the sheets adjacent to each item.  Proceeds will be used to purchase new furniture for the lounge.

SPECIAL OFFERING

We are receiving a special offering over the next two Sundays to assist those affected by the closing of the Tyson plant next month.  Make your check payable to St. Paul’s UMC and designated for “Local Aid.”  Your contribution will be sent to the local food pantries and to the Cherokee Community Ministerial Association, which works with the Salvation Army.  

An Illustration from Nature

August 19, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

Sunday before worship, our Lay Leader Linda Appleby told me about the recent trip that she and her husband Dave took to Estes Park, Colorado last week.  She told me briefly about a walk that they took together along the Cub Lake Trail in the Rocky Mountain National Park.

“I want to tell you about something we saw on the trail, because we thought you might be able to make a sermon illustration out of it.”

Challenge accepted.

She said that in 2012, the national park was ravaged by a massive wildfire that consumed 3500 acres, the largest fire in the national park’s history.  And then the following year, in 2013, overwhelming flood waters devastated that same general area in the park, causing further damage to an area still in recovery.

The Applebys walked the trail last week and were surprised by what they saw.  While there were still signs of devastation all around them - scorched earth, blackened trees, brush and debris littered randomly along the landscape - there was also evidence of new life:  robust grasses and ferns, beautiful flowers in full bloom, and lush, verdant trees so green and mature that it is astonishing to imagine that they somehow survived the fire and flooding.

My first response when Linda described the scenes, and again when she showed me the pictures was captured in one word:  “Resurrection.” I said.  “There is always new life after death.” 

I was reminded then of something that my pastoral theology professor, Dr. Carolyn Bohler, once said to her students.  “If, tragically, this planet were to suffer a nuclear winter, then in the aftermath – even the following day – we can believe there will be flowers growing in the fields again.”

Her point was simple:  just like nature finds a way to endure and flourish through trauma, so it is that we can find hope and promise in the wake of every trying time.  All of this points to the reality of the resurrection, first evidenced by the empty tomb, but apparent in a myriad of ways all around us, every day. 

I hope that if you are going through the fire or treading water through the floods of your life today, you will remember this:  God doesn’t give up, and won’t give up on you.  There is still resurrection available for you today.   Believe in it.  Claim it.  Then live it.

It’s interesting that a few hours after Linda told me her story on Sunday, my iTunes music file was playing randomly through my song catalog.  And this song, by one of my favorite Christian artists, Steven Curtis Chapman, started playing:

His Strength is Perfect

I can do all things

Through Christ who gives me strength

But sometimes I wonder what He can do through me

No great success to show

No glory on my own

Yet in my weakness He is there to let me know

Refrain: 

His strength is perfect when our strength is gone

He'll carry us when we can't carry on

Raised in His power, the weak become strong

His strength is perfect, His strength is perfect

We can only know

The power that He holds

When we truly see how deep our weakness goes

His strength in us begins

Where ours comes to an end

He hears our humble cry and proves again

There’s good news, friends.  God’s strength, and God’s ability to resurrect new life from the dead, is indeed perfect.  And it is working in and through you, even right now.

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

To view past editions of the Mid-Week Message, visit  http://mdevega.blogspot.com. 

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The Closing of Tyson

August 12, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

Perhaps you have noticed an important trend throughout our current sermon series on the book of Acts.  Giving of ourselves to people in need has always been an essential part of our history and our DNA.  Before the church erected any buildings, formalized its doctrine, or codified its canon of scriptures, it maintained a strong social witness and care for the poor. 

All the believers were united and shared everything.  They would sell pieces of property and possessions and distribute the proceeds to everyone who needed them.  Acts 2:44-45

There were no needy persons among them. Those who owned properties or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds from the sales, and place them in the care and under the authority of the apostles. Then it was distributed to anyone who was in need.  Acts 4:34-35

One of them, Agabus, stood up and, inspired by the Spirit, predicted that a severe famine would overtake the entire Roman world. (This occurred during Claudius’ rule.)  The disciples decided they would send support to the brothers and sisters in Judea, with everyone contributing to this ministry according to each person’s abundance.  Acts 12:28-29

They were united.  They sold.  They shared.  They distributed.  They contributed.  Just reading through the verbs in the book of Acts will give you all you need to know about what our Christian forerunners felt was most important about our mission to the community.  When someone is in need, it is our job to help. 

THE CLOSING OF TYSON FOODS

As we all know, a few weeks ago, the Tyson Foods company announced that they would be closing three major production plants in the country, including the one that employs hundreds of people in this town.  The news has come as a devastating shock to many of our nearly 5,000 residents, many of whom have been employed with the company for decades. 

Communally, we have been moving through the various stages of grief, as would be expected when individuals deal with death and loss:  shock, denial, anger, despair.  Many have commented on the widespread economic and social impact this will have throughout Cherokee.  Others have reacted with blame and anger at various groups for not doing enough to prevent the closing.  Some have jumped quickly to predicting the demise of the town in the future.

I would remind us that, as a church, we are called to this important response:  to seek the welfare of the city (Jeremiah 29:7).  We are called to minister to more than simply the brothers and sisters in our own faith community.  We must minister to those throughout our town who are in need, underscored by the mission statement we adopted in 2008: “Transform Lives, Improve the Community, and Change the World.”

Whereas others might grieve, we must choose to give. 

So, here are three ways that people in this church can respond to the Tyson closing:

1.  Pray.  Pray for those whose lives will be most directly impacted by loss of employment, including the ancillary jobs throughout Cherokee not immediately employed by Tyson.  Pray for the civic and business leaders who are actively working to find a new tenant for the facility.  And pray for the overall economic, social, and civic climate in this town, that we can continue to attract and maintain stable employers in Cherokee.

2.  Help.  All of us, I suspect, know at least a few families who are going to be looking for new work after the plant closes on September 27.  Let us do whatever we can to be attentive, supportive, and helpful to our friends and neighbors.  Provide them meals.  Cut their grass.  Send them notes of encouragement.  Babysit their children as they go out to look for work.  Connect them to possible employment.  Sit and listen, and be a presence. 

3.  Finally, give.  I am proud of our Missions Committee, who last week voted to take up a special offering during the weeks of August 24, August 31, and September 7.  Money collected on those Sundays will be evenly distributed to agencies in town that will work with those affected by those with emergency financial needs:  the Salvation Army, the local food pantries, and the Cherokee County Ministerial Association.  One hundred percent of those funds will be distributed to people who will have trouble paying bills, purchasing food, providing for their children, or even finding places to live because of their job loss.

The book of Acts offers a very clear picture of what is both past and prescription.  In moments of crisis, the body of Christ has always taken care of the poor and downtrodden among us.  So we are called to do that again, for such a moment as this, to “reach out in concern and service to the world,” as our liturgy states.

As always, it is good to be the church.

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

Half Full or Half Empty?

August 5, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

I have a new answer to an age old question.

I’m sure you’ve heard it before:  “Is the glass half empty, or half full?”  Answer it as half full, and you are an optimist.  “It’s better, than nothing,” you tell yourself, as things could be a whole lot worse.  You choose to see your situation as better than it could be.

Answer it as half empty, and you are a pessimist.  You see the situation for what it could be, but isn’t.  You see unmet potential, disappointing results, or evidence of failure.  You dwell on the negative.

I think most of us tend to vacillate between the two options at various stages of our lives, depending on the situation.  I prefer to see myself as an optimist - - joyful and cheerful, hopeful about the future.  But I can still worry with the best of them, anxious about a future that has no guarantee of ever happening.  I can hope and I can worry, choosing not to fixate on one at the expense of the other.  Maybe most of the time we’d prefer a third option:  it’s both.  The glass is half full and half empty.  That answer would be true, albeit non-committal.

But I think I have an even better answer now:  The glass is neither half full nor half empty.

The glass is always full.

It doesn’t take a college degree in physics to understand this.  If you focus only on the glass and the water, then you are forced to choose between the two extremes.  But in reality, the other half of the glass – the half without the water – is not empty, or void, or meaningless.  It’s actually full of something invisible, but very real. 

It is the presence of air. 

It is air that fills the rest of the glass and interacts with the surface tension of the water.  It is air that gives the water its shape.  It is air that even maintains the water in its liquid state.  It’s true.  If you take a half-empty glass of water and vacuum out the air, the pressure in the top half of the glass drops dramatically and causes the water to bubble, and eventually boil.  It boils, not because heat is added to the water, but because the water turns to gas in order to equalize the lack of pressure in the top half of the glass.

But that’s not all.  Because it takes energy to move water from a liquid to a gaseous state, the remaining water – that which has not yet vaporized – has released so much energy that its temperature drops dramatically enough to freeze into ice.  [1] 

In other words, if you take a glass that is half filled with water and remove all the air, you wind up getting steam, then ice, then no liquid water at all.  That air may seem invisible, but it serves a vital purpose! 

So here’s the point:  If you are in a situation right now where you are tossing between optimism and pessimism, between what is and what can be, between hoping on the positive or dwelling on the negative, then maybe you should realize that your glass is neither half full or half empty.  There is something with you – right now – that is as invisible as air but is as active as energy.  And it ensures that your glass, in fact, is always full.

The Holy Spirit is with you. 

It’s no wonder that when the Bible describes the nature and work of the Holy Spirit, it often uses the image of air.  Ruah  (Hebrew) and pneuma (Greek) are two of the Bible’s favorite words for Spirit, and they both mean wind and breath.  It is an acknowledgement that the Spirit’s work is invisible yet indelible.  You may not always see the Spirit’s presence, but the Spirit is always at work. 

In those moments when you are caught in a seemingly hopeless situation, when the glass feels half empty, and you can’t help but focus on what is wrong, what has gone wrong, and what might go wrong, then the Spirit is there to fill your life to the brim with hope, courage, and a strength that you may only recognize in hindsight.  And without the Spirit’s presence, your situation would bubble, boil, and freeze into something even worse than it is.

Likewise, when you feel like things are going quite well, when your glass seems half full, and the trajectory of your life is on the upside, then the Spirit is there to open your blinders, caution you against temptation, and alert you to the sinful parts of your life that need more attention than you are willing to afford them.  And it is always, always, good to remember that even the good things in your life – your achievements, successes, recognitions, and rewards – have not solely come from your own merit or effort.  All good and perfect gifts come from God, whose Spirit is with you every step of the way.

So maybe learn to adopt this new guiding principle for your life.  Your glass is, in fact, never half full or half empty.  Your glass is always full.  Because regardless of what you are going through in your life, for whatever triumphs or tragedies happen to greet you each day, the Spirit of God is right there with you, to fill your life to the very brim with blessing, encouragement, guidance, and joy. 

Cheers!

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]  John Hopkins University conducted an experiment that you can watch on YouTube that illustrates what happens when you vacuum out the air from a glass half-filled with water.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UG7nsZkVZc0

Why the Church Shouldn't Hashtag

July 15, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

Last Friday night, I had a memorable text message exchange with Grace, whom I remind you just turned thirteen years old.  It's also good to remember that I just turned forty-one, since our age difference is important to this story.  She and I were talking about what I would be preparing the following night for dinner, and she suggested that I add some bacon to the recipe.  (We’re Filipinos, after all, and this is Iowa.  Pork products are both nature and nurture.) 

She texted me the words, “Bacon makes everything better.” 

To which I responded, #YouveGotThatRight, using the common Twitter hashtag.  

Seconds later came her response:  “U R too old 2 use #”  (Translation:  "You are too old to use hashtags.")

When I finally calmed down from laughing so hard, I responded:  “LOL!  (Laughing Out Loud)  Who says?”  

To which she simply said, “Society.”

She was kidding, of course.  (At least I hope so.)  She likes to exercise her nascent independence and foray into adulthood by looking for gentle opportunities to tease me, and knock me down a notch or two from whatever self-ascribed superiority I might have asserted as her father during the first twelve years of her life.  That’s par for the course, I understand.  I used to tease my parents a ton when I was her age.

But what struck me, or at least the preacher part of me, was the content of our exchange.  You’re too old to use hashtags, she said.  I don’t think she meant that literally, but there is some truth to what she is saying, at least in a wider context. 

I’ll unpack what I mean by turning our text exchange into a parable.  Let’s pretend for a minute that I am the traditional, mainline church, attempting to communicate to today’s disaffected, un-churched, younger generation.  And let’s say that I make the misguided assumption that today’s un-churched youngsters want to be addressed at their level, on their own terms, connected to their own experience.  So “Magrey” decides to talk to “Grace” by establishing a whole category of language and experience: 

Relevant.

Relevance becomes an overriding strategy, a guiding principle, for deciphering the ancient and traditional language and experience of the Christian faith into something more accessible to those on the outside, and more in the “language of the street.” 

So the church decides to “hashtag” things. 

·      It hashtags the liturgies of the sacraments by speaking more “off the cuff” at the altar for communion or at the font for baptism. 

·      It hashtags the sermon by employing what Bishop Will Willimon once called “PowerPoint Preaching.”  It reduces the utility of the Bible to tidy sets of practical, take-home applications, so that by seeing the Bible as merely collections of simple steps to follow, you can, for example: improve your marriage, lose weight, find happiness, chart your career, become a better citizen, or some such pop-psychology precept. 

·      It hashtags the pastoral prayer by using spontaneous prayers more than carefully crafted ones, employing so many trite phrases like “God, thank you for this day” and “We love you, Jesus” with such regularity that prayer itself seems more cliché than actual communication with God.

·      It hashtags the hymnody of the church, so that songs with nuance and depth are replaced with lyrics based on an egocentric Christology.  Many praise and worship songs have more to do with “me and Jesus” and less to do with community, social consciousness, and justice. 

·      It hashtags the preacher, from clothing choices to hairstyles.  It hashtags the worship space, making it more like a performance hall, or living room, and less a place of mystical encounter.  It hashtags the very mission of the church, so that it is more about giving people what they want, in order to get them into the sanctuary, rather than growing people up in their faith or moving them out into service. 

Well, you get the drift.  The church “hashtags”  every time it acquiesces so much to the culture – even under the auspices of transforming the culture – that it falls short of its counter-cultural calling.

There is danger in the other extreme, of course, in which a church becomes so entrenched in tradition that it becomes impersonal, predictable, and lifelessly lacking any kind of vitality.  You and I have been to churches like that, I’m sure.  

Nonetheless, churches that try to act and speak too much in the vernacular run the risk of losing a critical sense of mystery that is essential to the faith.  It is the embrace of doubt and shadow, silence and complexity, in the way we worship, pray, read the Scripture, share the good news, serve one another, and love our neighbors.  It is a humility born from acknowledging that our finite minds cannot – and therefore, do not have to – put the Bible, or our liturgies, or our worship formats, in tidy packages, easily consumed.  It is articulating a faith that embraces mystery, because that is an essential part of the human experience.  In an odd kind of way, it is the most relevant move the church can make.   

So maybe Grace was on to something.  When I try to act cool, I wind up being the opposite of cool.  And when the church tries too hard to be relevant, it winds up losing what makes it so special, so enticing, and so transformative.  But when it embraces its unique, counter-cultural calling, it offers the world what it desperately needs and nothing else can provide.  

And that’s why our current sermon series through the book of Acts is so important for us.  For this book is replete with reminders of a time when the church cared less about being relevant and more about being faithful.  It’s a lesson we can learn today, 2,000 years later.  And it’s a lesson the world desperately needs to hear.

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 AND GIRLS OUT OF TOWN NEXT WEEK

The girls and I will be heading out of town after the worship service this Sunday to spend some time with family down in Florida.  We will be gone from June 20-31, so the Mid-Week Message will resume during the week of August 3. 

Magrey on a Coke Bottle?

July 7, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

Sometime along the six-hour drive to the Wisconsin Dells last week, the girls and I stopped at a gas station to stretch and refuel.  We went inside to grab a few drinks, in what I had intended to be just a quick stop.  I never thought I'd have a reason to pull out my smartphone to take a picture of anything inside the store.  But there was, and I did.  

I reached for my usual drink of choice (a caffeine-free Diet Coke), and found that each of the Coke bottles was uniquely labeled, not with the words “Coke” or “Diet Coke,” but with the words "Share a Diet Coke with:" folled by names like Luke, Julia, Lauren, Jacob and Travis.  

It caught me off guard, as I thought this was some kind of joke.  But it wasn't.  Apparently, the Coca-Cola Company has printed bottles with 250 different names as part of this summer’s “Share a Coke” campaign.  It goes like this:  find a bottle with the name of someone you know, and buy the bottle to share it with them. 

“‘Share a Coke’ is designed to get people talking and sharing,” said Jennifer Healan, a marketing executive with Coca-Cola. “When teens see that the iconic Coca-Cola logo has been replaced by their name or their friends’ names, they can’t help but take a picture and post it online.”  [1]   It is a campaign designed to capitalize on our simultaneous desire for face-to-face connections with people and digital interactions with them through social media.  Stuart Kronague, Coca-Cola’s senior vice president, put it this way:  “For teens and Millennials, personalization is not a fad, it’s a way of life,” she adds. “It’s about self-expression, individual storytelling and staying connected with friends. ‘Share a Coke’ taps into all of those passions.”

Well, it didn’t quite work for me.  I rummaged through all the bottles of Diet Coke on the shelf and didn’t find a plainly labeled one among them.  And, more importantly, not a single one with the name Magrey on it.  I decided it would feel silly walking out of the store drinking a soda with someone else’s name on it, and I didn’t know anyone by the names above with whom to share it, so I switched to another brand of soda and walked back to the car.

But then, a thought occurred to me as I was driving away.  What if I did find a bottle with the name Magrey on it?  How cool would that be?  Wouldn’t I want to buy it?  Or what if someone had found a bottle with my name on it, and decided to hand it to me personally?  How neat would that have been?  Instantly, the rather mundane experience of drinking yet another carbonated beverage would have been transformed into a uniquely personal, altogether memorable moment.  It wouldn’t have just been any bottle of Diet Coke.  It would have been my bottle of Coke.  And this massive, global, multi-billion soda company would have found a way to make little old me feel a part of it. 

All of this is mere conjecture, of course, as I doubt a Magrey Coke bottle will ever emerge.  But I think Coca-Cola is tapping into something very interesting in its assessment of the very same culture to whom we are called as a church to reach:  we are relational creatures, who crave personal connections between us and others, and with larger narratives that go beyond ourselves.  It isn’t enough to drink a Coke.  We want to drink a Coke with someone special, and feel drawn into a story that is bigger than we are.

And when you think about it, isn't that the task of the church?  

Well, just ask the two central characters in this Sunday’s scripture reading.  I didn’t plan it this way, but my experience with the personalized Coke bottles coincides with preparing to preach this Sunday on Phillip and the Ethiopian in Acts 8, the next stop on our journey through the stories of the early church. 

Here was an Ethiopian man, whom Acts describes as a government treasurer and a eunuch, standing alone in his chariot one day, scratching his head as he pondered the odd complexities of a scripture text.  Sort of like standing in front of a refrigerator case trying to figure out what beverage would best quench his thirst.  But then the disciple Phillip, taking a page from the Coca-Cola campaign playbook (or, more accurately, following the prompting of the Holy Spirit), came up to him out of the blue and made a personal connection with him.

We’ll dig further into the particulars of this wonderful story this Sunday, but the quick result is that the Ethiopian man discovered something of himself in the grand story of the gospel.  Thanks to his personal connection with Phillip, he found his own identity, and his own name, immersed into the story of Jesus.  He was baptized and became a follower of Jesus Christ. 

So here’s the question.  What would happen if you were reading a passage of Scripture and discovered your very own name in it?  What if, tucked among the powerful story of Jesus’ love, grace, and forgiveness, you were actually a part of that story?  And what if, instead of struggling to understand that story on your own, you found yourself surrounded by a community of people joining you on that same journey, with face-to-face interactions that offered you encouragement, discernment, and guidance?

Well, look closely.  That's your name written into God's story.

Shouldn’t that make a difference?

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.coca-colacompany.com/stories/summer-of-sharing-share-a-coke-campaign-rolls-out-in-the-us

CHURCH WIDE PICNIC AND POOL PARTY

Once again, we are having a church wide picnic at Gillette Park on Sunday, July 13, from 6:00-8:00pm followed by an exclusive pool party at the Bacon Aquatic Center from 8:00-9:30pm.  Grilled meats and fixings will be supplied.  You are invited to bring your own drinks as well as a side dish or dessert to share. 

I Have No Idea Where I Am Going

July 1, 2014

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

My conclusion to last Sunday’s sermon was nearly an afterthought when I wrote it, but given the response, I’m glad I included it.  Many of you have since requested a copy of the prayer from Thomas Merton that I connected to the advice of Gamaliel in Acts 5.  So, I offer it to you here.

Thomas Merton was a Roman Catholic monk of the Trappist order who wrote over seventy books on the spiritual life.  His autobiography The Seven Storey Mountain was named by National Review as one of the 100 most important books in the century.  It details his remarkable conversion from his teen years as an agnostic to becoming one of the most significant Christian authors of our time. 

I’m not sure when I first read this prayer, which he first wrote as part of his book Thoughts in Solitude in 1954.  But over the past few years, friends have commended the prayer to me, always at a time when it seemed I’ve needed to re-read it the most.  Based on your response last Sunday, I suspect it touches on a universal theme of longing in the midst of confusion, and a desire to do God’s will even when such discernment seems impossible.  It conveys an intimacy with God when God seems most distant, and a depth to the spiritual life when all one has is rote practice.  It is the fusion of these extremes, in creative tension, that has contributed to the power of this prayer for many people:

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

EXPLORING MERTON’S PRAYER

The prayer’s powerful authenticity is evident from its first few lines:  My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end.  This is a remarkable amount of candor coming from one so hallowed as Merton, but it is that honesty that makes this witness so comforting, and so relatable, to the rest of us.  Like Mother Theresa’s Come Be My Light or Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Who am I?, Merton’s prayer gives us permission to reveal our innermost doubts. 

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.  These words remind me of Paul’s letter to the Philippians, in which he admits that “I want to know Christ.”  He doesn’t say he knows Christ, but that he wants to know Christ.  He doesn’t claim a perfect understanding of the Christian faith, or even states that such knowledge is ultimately and fully possible.  But he believes that his desire to know is in itself pleasing to God.  And it is a good thing that simply having that desire is enough, for sometimes that is all we are capable of offering. 

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.  Whenever I hear these words, I think of one of my favorite stories in the gospel, involving the father with the demon-possessed child in Mark 9.  When Jesus told the father that “everything is possible for those who believe,” the man replied with similarly stunning candor:  “I believe; help my unbelief.”  Many times, we live with this odd and seemingly untenable juxtaposition between belief and unbelief.  We hold on to whatever strands of belief in Jesus we have, while the gravity of our situation pulls us downward.  But such a moment of tension, while uncomfortable, is stasis nonetheless.  And it can be a time of great strengthening for our spiritual commitments. 

Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.  I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.  It’s hard not to read these words without hearing its echo in the 23^rd Psalm:  though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we do not need to fear, because God is with us.  With all of the uncertainty embedded into this prayer, Merton claims one final, incontrovertible truth:  we are not alone.  God is always with us, even if in moments when God seems absent or distant.  And God will never leave you to face your perils alone.

Perhaps this prayer today comes to you as it has for me in the past:  at precisely the right time, when I have needed it the most.  If so, I am grateful.  As for me, I will be re-reading it a few times myself today.

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

CHURCH WIDE PICNIC AND POOL PARTY

Once again, we are having a church wide picnic at Gillette Park on Sunday, July 13, from 6:00-8:00pm followed by an exclusive pool party at the Bacon Aquatic Center from 8:00-9:30pm.  Grilled meats and fixings will be supplied.  You are invited to bring your own drinks as well as a side dish or dessert to share.