Welcome to end of the high Holy Month of Ramadan. I’ll never forget my first Ramadan Iftar. I was invited to the breaking of the fast with a friend from college and his Muslim community at Oklahoma State back in the day. So much fun! And great food! Good times!
 
Wednesday (May 12) at sunset, the Holy Month of Ramadan ends. The holiday in the 9th month of the Islamic calendar. Like our Easter and Lent, the date moves around because their calendar is 11 days shorter than ours.
 
It’s similar in a lot of ways to Lent but their traditions are stricter than ours. For example, for our fast we “give up something for Lent” to be reminded of Jesus’ fasting in the desert for his 40 days.
 
The Islamic fast is every day, and no food or drink of any kind from sunrise to sunset for the 29 or 30 days of Ramadan. Every day! The symbolism of the fast allows them to understand the suffering of others. They spend their time (just as we might in Lent) focused on Spiritual reflection, prayer, good deeds, time with family and friends, and reading the Qur’an.
 
They wake with the “Suhoor” or morning meal before sunrise. Then, fast all day and break the fast after sunset with the “Iftar” meal. Two meals a day for a month. Typically, the Iftar is a time to celebrate with friends and family and community which they often do during the holiday.
 
There are exemptions to the fasting ritual. It’s obligatory but there’s slack for children and the elderly, those who are sick, women who are pregnant or nursing babies, and if you’re traveling a long distance. If you’re sick during Ramadan, you’re obligated to make up the fasting at later time.
 
Just like our Lent, Ramadan is a time for Muslims to commit themselves to their faith and more to God.
 
The end of the holiday comes at first sight of the new moon in the sky—just like Easter is the first Sunday after the full moon after the Spring Equinox. And, Muslims all over the world observe the end of Ramadan with a big festival called Eid al-Ritr—“The Breaking of the Fast.” Family and friends gather to thank Allah (God) for the blessing, support, and strength during the month of fasting. The custom is to give alms at Eid, that is: donate to the poor and those in the margins.
 
If you have any Muslim friends, wish them a happy break to the fast. It’s been a tough, long month for them. They get up early to eat before first light, they skip lunch every day, and no dinner until after sunset. It’s way more intense than Lent, for sure!
 
*Eid Mubarak,
Scott
 
*Happy Eid!

Cinco de Mayo is one of those holidays blown up by beer companies to sell Mexican beer and food. It’s not like a big national holiday in Mexico. It’s not like Mexican independence from Spain which comes on September 16, 1810. 16 de Septiembre is as big of a day for Mexico as the 4th of July for the USA.
 
Almost 20 years ago, I worked at a Mexican radio station selling advertising and I learned a lot more about the culture than I did in Spanish class back in school. The 5th of May is the anniversary of the Mexican Army’s victory over French forces during a skirmish in 1862 in the state of Puebla. The holiday is still celebrated in Mexico, but mostly in Puebla—not so much everywhere else. My Mexican co-workers were happy to tell me that Cinco de Mayo in the USA is all about selling beer and food to the blancos.
 
I can’t believe all that time has passed.
 
Time flies! Even in COVID-19, the time has passed so fast! Last year at this time we were in full-on lockdown! We weren’t even worshipping in person anymore. The bars and restaurants were closed except for take-out. You couldn’t find toilet paper anywhere. We were making our own masks. The virus was raging! People were dying. So much loss and little did we understand, there was so much more to come.
 
Yet here we are, a year later, looking at opening the Sanctuary again for church this weekend and celebrating another holiday created by American business—nevertheless, a nice holiday to recognize—Mother’s Day! And maybe with the declining COVID numbers and increased vaccinations, we’re going to be celebrating Mother’s Day more like we usually do. Bring it on!
 
I read something this week in one of my ham radio publications that was buried in the midst of a technical article on the electronics of a piece of gear. But the author (who is a retired minister from the UK it turns out…) talks about the Greek two-fold understanding of time.
 
Chronos, or chronology, which is a basic linear sequential understanding of time: one thing happens, and then the next, and the next, and so on as time passes.
 
Kairos, on the other hand, is the opportune nature of time. Think of kairos like good timing for action, or the sense of time we lose track of when we’re caught up in the moments. We’re having a good time, or having a good conversation, or into a book or movies or series we’re binge-watching. That is when we lose track of time.
 
So, I love to write, I love to read, and I especially love to read good writing. And when I read good writing, I notice that I feel the Kairos sense of time. Time flies. I get lost in the moments. I lose track of time.
 
No doubt, even as the moments of COVID lock-down kept dragging by through the tragedies of our losses, missed birthdays, family holiday traditions interrupted, hugs not given—as horrible as all that is—even as we’ve lost track of the time—I pray that we can remember the chronology.
 
I pray that we remember what it feels like in the moments. Grief, sorrow, frustration, anger, little victories like finding hand wipes on the shelf, recognition of all the things we take for granted. Yes, time flies. And we get lost in the moments. We lose track of time. And I pray that we remember the chronology even in the Kairos.
 
Whatever it feels like.
 
Reminds me of the Counting Crows song, “Long December:”
 
…It's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass.
 
This Sunday feels like a new beginning. A new marker. The beginning of the end.
 
I’m excited for another Cinco de Mayo, another Mother’s Day, another Sunday. And another, and another, and another.
 
Let’s hold on to these moments as they pass because there’s reason to believe that maybe this year will be better than the last.
 
It just has to be.
 
Grace and peace,
Scott

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had this conversation lately.
 
Commute—(15 second walk to the desk). Zoom all day. Commute. Answer email until late. Sleep (hopefully). Repeat.
Weekends: Crazy too—non-stop, masked-up, still over-programmed, kids/grandkids sports, drama, dance, music—all from a social distance.
And church. Church? Sure, Facebook Live! Yeah, I know, right? One more thing.
 
It never ends.
 
I watched the movie Sound of Metal over the weekend. It’s a great movie. It was up for the Best Picture Oscar won by Nomadland (a worthy winner!) and it’s about a heavy metal rock drummer who loses his hearing and worries about losing his life because of it.
 
One of his teachers tries to get him to embrace his deafness and learn to just “sit.” He says that when you can just sit in the silence, you discover the kingdom of God. Wow!
 
Makes me wonder--
When was the last time you really unplugged?
Like really unplugged.
Turn off the phone. Radio silence. Go dark. No technology.
Nothing.
 
Solitude.
 
It’s one of the Spiritual Disciplines in Richard Foster’s book The Celebration of Discipline. This book is a classic. He gives us a number of Disciplines to try—things to bring clarity to this crazy jacked-up existence. Prayer, Fasting, Meditation, Study, Simplicity, Submission, Service, Confession, Worship, Guidance, Celebration are all chapter headings and good ideas for capturing the Spirit in and around our daily lives. And Solitude is one, too.
 
Solitude.
 
Sit. Be. Repeat.
 
Imagine several days of that!
Full-on hermetic, monastic, cloistral life.
Even for a few hours.
 
Maybe it sounds boring.
Maybe it sounds selfish.
Maybe it sounds divine!
 
Maybe we can capture a moment here or there. I know a lady who can’t find space to be alone except in the coat closet at home. It’s dark, it’s quiet, it’s perfect.
 
If you can’t carve out a few days, maybe you can carve out a few moments. Combine a little solitude with meditation, with prayer.
 
Try this from Thich Nhat Hanh*—use only as directed.
 
Breathing in, I calm my body,
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment,
I know this is a wonderful moment!
 
Breath in.
Breath out.
Repeat.
 
Again.
 
Again.
 
Again.
 
Again.
 
You’re welcome…
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott
 
Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life by Thich Nhat Hanh, Bantam, 1991.
 
Richard Foster, The Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth, HarperOne, 2018.
 

​Psalm 23 comes up in the Revised Common Lectionary cycle for church this Sunday. It’s a classic. They’re all classic, but #23 may be the best-known of the Psalms.
 
You may know this trick. Grab any Judeo-Christian Bible. Put your fingers in the middle of the pages in the book and open it. Chances are high, like almost 100%, that you will open the Bible to the Psalms. Right in the middle of the book.
 
Sure, it’s a cute little parlor trick, but it’s also nice to know. The Psalms are ancient songs, poems, laments, petitions, praises, amazing prayers—all ways to talk to God. And all ways to listen for God. It’s kind of like a prayer app. Open to the middle and seek God through the Psalms.
 
Psalm 23 is classic.
 
Sunday School kids for generations have been taught to memorize it and know it by heart. I used to be able to recite the King James Version, but I think my old mind has disconnected from that a little bit over the years. Life, new translations, seminary, and the work have all muddied that water.
 
I can muddle through it, but not like when I was 10—back in the day, I had it down.
 
Please forgive the patriarchal language—let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water.  Here’s the New Revised Standard Version:

​A Psalm of David.
1 The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
2     He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
3     he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
    for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
    I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
    your rod and your staff--
    they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
    all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
    my whole life long.

​It works better as poetry if it’s centered, doesn’t it?
It definitely works better as prayer.
Centered.
 
That’s what we do when we pray. Center ourselves in God.
 
I’m asking you to read it again, and center yourself here:

​What does it look like when
“goodness and mercy follow me”?

​I’m just gonna leave it all right here in the middle.  
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott

So, I chuckle as I write that title out because this probably isn’t going in the direction you’re assuming. Not even close. Heaven? Or Hell?
 
Presbyterians. One of the things we don’t do very well, and have never done very well, is talk about our spirituality. We always kinda cache our spirituality in really vague terms. Even when it comes to prayer—the most basic of Christian practices. It’s just not that often you’ll hear someone say, “I need to pray about that.” Or, “I have been praying about…” In practice, it happens for sure. But we don’t hear a lot about it—not that often, anyway.
 
All that said, when it comes to spirituality, I’m actually happy to talk about it. I do talk about it. A lot. It’s kinda my job to talk about it. Promote it. While I’m probably not the gentlest person you know about most things, I do take a gentle approach when it comes to spirituality.
 
I’m sensitive to “Presbyterian spirituality” which is very chill in most cases. It’s so chill that most Presbyterians can bristle at the first blush. This is one of those things you learn early as a Presbyterian minister. You don’t be shy about it, but you gotta be chill about it.
 
And personally, I have a pastor’s sense and care for my own spirituality, for my practices. I have shared before that I have a daily routine. Never fails. Every day. Time with God. It’s how I start my day. Quiet time. I pray for you. I pray for our church. Every. Day. I read the Daily Lectionary Bible verses. Phyllis Tickle. J. Phillip Newell. And I read Richard Rohr.
 
Fr. Richard Rohr is a highly progressive Franciscan priest and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, New Mexico. If you read any progressive theological articles or books at all, Richard Rohr is often quoted and a highly sought-after conversation partner. Only within the last 4-5 years, I learned he does a daily devotional and I LOVE HIM! Turns out, a number of my colleagues across the denominational lines love him, too.
 
So—he pushes my buttons all the time and a few years ago, he ran a whole series on Heaven and Hell. I have, for at least a decade, theologically agreed with him on the entire concept of Heaven and Hell and it’s simply this:
 
Heaven and Hell aren’t places. They are states. Present current states. Heaven and Hell are here and now. In this life, on this Earth, in our lives. Always in all ways.
 
Here are a couple broad strokes at it:
 
Heaven is heartfelt and found in and among the peaks of light living life as a follower of Jesus Christ. Loving others unconditionally as Jesus loves us. Building community and taking care of our neighbors as described in the early church by actions of the Holy Spirit (in the book of Acts).
 
Hell, on the other hand, is also heartfelt and found in and among the valleys of darkness that surround us. Evil. Heinous acts. Tough times. Hard life events. Loss. Depression. All that is Hell, obviously.
 
Heaven and Hell. Sometimes they are of our own making!
 
Okay, that’s plenty enough to make your brain hurt.
 
Right?
 
A few years ago, RR quotes a poet David Whyte, from the collection Fire in the Earth (Many Rivers Press: 2002).
 
Take a moment and read this—giving yourself pause. Like, read it and sit in the Mystery for a while. Just sit and be. Wow!
 
“The Old Wild Place”
 
After the good earth
where the body knows itself to be real
and the mad flight
where it gives itself to the world,
we give ourselves to the rhythm of love
leaving the breath
to know its way home.
 
And after the first pure fall,
the last letting go, and the calm
breath where we go to rest,
we’ll return again to find it
and feel again the body welcomed,
the body held,
the strong arms of the world,
the water, the waking at dawn
and the thankful, almost forgotten,
curling to sleep with the dark.
 
The old wild place beyond all shame. 
 
Just sit with that for a while.
 
You’re welcome!
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott

Okay Christian person. Let me ask you a question that is enough to make your brain hurt. Easter was Sunday. The resurrection of Lord Jesus Christ. Now what?
 
What do we do with the Post-Easter Jesus?
 
That’s literally the age-old question we’ve been struggling with since the women discover the empty tomb. And by “we,” I mean us—Jesus followers. What do we do with him?
 
You start to really feel the struggle in the early Pauline letters. 1 Thessalonians is probably the first of Paul’s letters to emerge and it likely doesn’t come along until mid-1st Century—20 years after the crucifixion. In fact, Paul’s letters emerge before the Gospels. Then Mark comes first and not until at least 60-65. The others much later, and John’s Gospel may not have emerged until as late as the 2nd Century!
 
Even the Didache, which is literally a manual for being a person of “The Way”—basically what they call the lifestyle of following Jesus—They aren’t even known as “Christians” yet! The Didache comes out also mid-1st Century, and even the Didache doesn’t talk about the resurrection. Not one word!
 
After a lot of thought and study I think I understand why no resurrection. I think it’s because they are living it. Like, if put yourself into their context, in the years immediately following Jesus they are mourning, processing, developing love and community around his teaching. They are experiencing and actually becoming the resurrection.
 
This is no “belief structure."
This is lifestyle.
This is huge!
 
It’s also important to know that Paul never meets Jesus of Nazareth! Paul’s experience of Jesus comes on the road to Damascus (see Acts 9) post-Easter and he has a serious life-changing confrontation with the risen Christ! He is blinded by the light of Christ!
 
So, what we get here in 2021 are these glimpses of the Risen Christ through the eyes of the earliest followers. And this is significant! Scholars agree that to best understand the impact of a leader, a movement, or a culture is to examine the lives of the adherents.
 
What do they do?
How do they live?
What do they teach their children?
Hmmmm.
 
That’s enough to make your brain hurt, too!
What do we do with this Post-Easter Jesus?
And that is it.
 
Are we becoming the resurrection?
Following Jesus?
Loving each other as Jesus loves us?
Building welcoming community and taking care of our neighbors?
Yes or no?
 
When we look in the mirror, do we see the face of Jesus?
 
Sorry to make your brain hurt—I’m just askin’…
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott

Every Palm Sunday I preach one of the longer sermons I preach. We follow the 3-year lectionary cycle and Palm Sunday always has the most readings of the year. Mark’s version of the passion this year is no exception. I hope you don’t mind that I read it all from The Message, the plain-English translation of the Bible. It’s just so awesome, and even though it’s long—such a great story! Thank you for indulging me. 

It’s Holy Week and every year I think, pray, contemplate, and reflect: Is this the end of the story? Or is it the beginning of the story? And it bears repeating. 

I do a little preaching on that because I wonder! 
Every year I wonder: 
Is this the end of the story? Or is it the beginning of the story?

To me, this year it feels like it’s the beginning of the next chapter for Fairmount Presbyterian Church. 

Session meets for April on the 12th and we’ll be talking about coming back in person for worship in the coming weeks. We will always have Facebook Live going forward, so don’t worry about that. But when we come back in person, we’ll be outdoors only at first. 

This morning (Tuesday, March 30) the COVID numbers in Hunterdon are raging! We have to be careful. So, we plan to determine when we can reliably count on the temperature to be comfortable enough to be outside at 10am on Sundays. We know you want to be back in person—we all want to be back in person as soon as it’s warm enough--as soon as it’s safe. 

Our session will soon appoint a task force committee to lead us in Telling Our Story, the discernment study for what God is calling us to do and be for this time and place going forward. How do we do church post-pandemic? Who are we? What is God calling us to do and be? This is the job of Telling Our Story. If session approaches you to serve on this task force, step up! It’ll be interesting and fun, I promise!

And it all comes from us—individually and collectively—what the Spirit is calling us to be comes from all of us. Each of us. The whole is greater than the sum of our parts. Together.

The Spirit is clearly moving you, growing you, pushing you. Even in the pandemic! And more is coming: Ways to connect. Ways to study. Ways to serve. Ways to live into this life in Jesus Christ.

More ways to become who we are.

We’re reclaiming the church vision that drove our founders, calls to our leadership, calls to our staff, even calls to me. A vision that calls to you. A vision that calls us to be a church that is part of the community, not apart from it. And this is only a new beginning.

This is Holy Week and as we follow Jesus to the Cross, we’ve gotta own the whole Gospel as we truly are the passion. We are the story. We don’t get to Easter without Maundy Thursday and Good Friday! 

Make time for some deep contemplation, reflection, and prayer.
Every day is a new beginning.
And, when you look in the mirror—ask yourself. 
When I follow Jesus to the Cross, what does that mean to me? 
What does it mean to “be” the gospel?

Because life transformation—the person you see in the mirror?
This is exactly what life change looks like.
 
Let’s do this—so, what is it?

The end of the story? Or the beginning of the story?

Grace & Peace,
Scott

​I’m in the middle of the writing phase of my DMin project (Doctor of Ministry) in Public Theology at Drew University. We are scheduled to graduate in August. This has been an amazing and interesting experience not the least of which is influenced by the pandemic.
 
Our lead mentors are part of the Middle Project, a non-profit multi-faith, multi-cultural, anti-racist group. The Rev. Dr. Jacqui Lewis is lead pastor at Middle Collegiate Church in NYC. Very cool East Village neighborhood with a lot of life and energy.
 
In a tragic turn of events, Middle Church was destroyed by fire early in the morning of December 4, 2020. It was of course empty at that hour but had been empty anyway due to the pandemic. They have been worshipping remotely via technology for over a year now. No meetings in their building what-so-ever.
 
Middle is a multi-racial, multi-ethnic, multi-orientation, multi-faith, multi-everything church! They have close to 1500 members now and their worship is so energetic. Even streaming worship on the internet captures the life and times of this congregation as they overcome this awful event and work to rebuild.
 
Middle has a Sesame Street-like puppet thing for the “Message for All Ages” like a “Young People’s Message.”  They will do very moving stuff like “Blackbird” from the Beatles with a liturgical dancer. Amazing! Their singers do songs like “How Deep Is Your Love?”—yes, the Bee Gees. You can imagine, this just fires me up.
 
You know what’s really interesting? Since the pandemic began, over 200 new people have joined their church just from online new member classes, Zoom small groups, streaming worship. All that.
 
It is just over-the-top incredible!
 
The Spirit is on fire!
And the common thread is true love.
“Revolutionary Love” is something they talk about all the time at Middle.
 
Love is something we all share in common no matter our faith tradition. We’re all about love. All of us. Love of God (or whatever label we use), love of neighbor, love of community, love of self.
 
How do we love each other?
How do we do for each other?
How do we live it out?
 
It’s the “New Commandment” right out of Jesus in John 13: 34 I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
 
What’s that look like? More important--what’s that feel like?
Well, stick around and watch what happens!
 
Fairmount Church is obviously still doing almost everything online while the pandemic numbers continue to rage all around us. Most of you are getting the vaccine or getting your doses scheduled as you become eligible. We’re doing all the things we need to do to protect each other in order to be ready to come back together in person as soon as possible.
 
The engagement level for our worship online is huge! It’s on par with churches many times our size. There’s no reason to stop worship streaming online even when we return to in-person meetings. The technology just extends our footprint! It just extends the love.
 
We’re just trying to be church and get through this pandemic to do our discernment work later this year. What is God calling us to do and be post-pandemic? What is the Spirit pushing us to do and be?
 
How are we following Jesus?
That’s all about love.
It’s bigger than you and me.
It’s deep.
It’s wide.
It’s profound.
 
Your session is committed. I am committed. And you too are committed.
It shows in your engagement.
 
Jump in and watch what happens!
The Spirit is on fire!
The Spirit is kicking us around!
What’s next for us?
Let’s just see what happens.
It’s all about love.
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott

So, it occurred to me this last Sunday that we’re in the second half now. For Lent. Only one more Sunday and then it’s Palm Sunday—and we’re right into Holy Week and Easter Sunday.  
 
This is as good a time as any for the halftime pep-talk.
 
I’m sure this won’t surprise anybody. I was one of those kids who always had to have something going on. The older I am, the better I get about it.
 
Once when I was working on my Masters, I was complaining to one of my mentors about the sun not coming up early enough for me to sit outside and study. He says, “Well, what’s wrong with just sitting?” And I’m all like, “these books don’t read themselves.” But, just sitting is hard—even though I’m better about it as time goes on.
 
If you’ve ever read the Richard Foster book, Celebration of Discipline--it really informs how I “just sit.” Because I see that time “just sitting” as time with God. Like focused. And very real. Very present.
 
Sometimes it’s meditation. Sometimes it’s prayer. “Just sitting” is a way of submission for me. I’m really trying. I’m really trying to work all this in.
 
But Holy Week is coming. It’s out there: Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday (we’re teaming up again with the Methodists both on Zoom and Facebook Live at 7pm), then Good Friday, Easter Sunday. Pow! It’s all coming fast.
 
So how are you doing?
We’re in the second half.
How’s it going for you?
 
I hope and pray that you’re living into your plan, whatever that looks like. I hope and pray you’re living into your fasting or your own set of disciplines or new things you’re trying. I hope that’s working for you.
 
Don’t worry if it’s not. You can always jump back on track or try a new track—try something new if what you’re doing isn’t happening. Setting up new routines is okay.
 
This is not “law.” Richard Foster cautions about that, actually: “Nothing puts people into bondage like religion.” So, let that go right away. Don’t hold onto to all this so tightly.
 
Having said that, I have one routine that never gets old. Never! My quiet time in the mornings. Even if I’m not “just sitting,” I don’t ever get tired of spending time with God. Not ever.
 
Carve out some time for yourself to do the same. Spend a little time with God. Maybe just sitting. Time with God is good time—always in all ways. It saves me.
 
Oswald Chambers puts it this way: “We all have those times when there are no flashes of light and no apparent thrill to life, where we experience nothing but the daily routine with its common everyday tasks. The routine of life is actually God’s way of saving us between our times of great inspiration…” Thanks Ozzy!
 
So here we are post half-time. I don’t know what your routine looks like, but I can only testify to my experience. I can encourage you to develop a spiritual routine of your own. Do it for yourself and I promise it won’t feel routine. Not ever.         
 
Whatever you do, it will save you between your times of great inspiration. It will see you through. It gets you through the second half.
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott

Remember those billboards that were all over the country a few years ago with messages from God? They were so cool, so funny, so awesome!
 
Let’s meet at my house Sunday before the game.
—God
 
One nation under me.
—God
 
Well, you did ask for a sign.
—God
 
So, I bounce into the Community House this week and guess who shows up?

​Right? What else needs to be said?
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott