University Baptist Church Bloomington, Indiana

November 29, 2011

“Not my favorite,” my 3-year-old nephew says when served food he doesn’t like or want.  “Not my favorite,” I thought about the weather this morning, driving my son to 5:45 am swim practice.  Cold, rainy, with slushy snow this afternoon according to wunderground.com. Yuck!  I’ll be damp all day and Global Women attendance will be low or nil and I have to go out twice tonight to drive kids.

     If I think hard (not too hard) I can probably come up with even more about which to complain.  Complaining  is a spiritual malady, of course, grounded in certain assumptions; the main two being that I am entitled to my favorites every day; my favorite weather, my favorite meal, my favorite schedule, and that my needs/wants should always trump the needs/wants of others. 

     So the struggle between Christ and culture lives on ~ in me and in the life of the church too.[1]  Which shall interpret the other?  Which shall rule our  thoughts, hearts and attitudes?  Complaining, if only in thought, amounts to the rejection of grace.  When I complain I push away the plate full of time, space, opportunity, connection and joy this day might otherwise contain.  “Not my favorite,” I say to God, imagining God doesn’t hear, doesn’t mind, isn’t disappointed at the sight of me tuning out and turning away to wait for a better time to be blessed.

     Jesus is everywhere.  Holiness abounds.  They are not bound by the weather or my attitude.  And who knows: maybe in less bright light Jesus becomes all the more visible.  Whatever the weather, may we be found looking, expecting and full of joy!  Peace & Prayers, pastor annette

[1] Reinhold Niebuhr, Christ  & Culture, 1956

November 15, 2011

Beloved:

     “He has totally changed my life,” a young mom told me about her eighteen-month-old son.  She works seven days most weeks, at four pieced-together jobs, to support the two of them.  She showed me a picture; he’s all blue eyes and wispy blonde hair, like a fairy or an angel.  How much she loves him shows in her talk but far more by her walk, by the many hours a week she leaves him in order to love him so well. 

   It’s a short stretch to see in her the same love that drives the Divine on behalf of humanity.  Persistence, constancy, commitment, sacrifice, selflessness, a certain ferocity of love by which mountains are moved and what’s lost is redeemed. 

     The little one is unaware of all that of course.  He knows simple realities like cheerios taste good, my toys are in my room and my mom is here.  Her love is evident in the roof over them, the food before them and her abiding presence beside him. It is proved in the great joy she takes as his provider.

     I am humbled by her devotion and service to what she loves most; by her willingness to do whatever is required for him to be safe and to thrive; and by the intimate connection between her everyday life and the purpose of her life.

     She has no idea, I expect, of the gift she gave me in our five minute conversation. I came away with renewed amazement at God’s love and the privilege it is to live out the purpose of one’s life in the everydayness of family, work, home and community.  I’m grateful.

Peace & prayers, ~ pastor annette

 

Beloved:

     Hearts are full all over town for two young men; so very young.  Adam and James, they might have been in first grade together not that long ago.  One admittedly shot and killed the other, for no particular reason according to police. 
     Hearts full of sorrow for the one now gone.  He had a fiancee’, three babies, a mom, dad, sister, brother, two jobs and a life plan.  He loved and was well loved.

     Hearts full of what for the other; anger . . . disgust . . . . pity?  He lives on but seems to me more lost than the one who worked so hard and loved so well. Who loves him and where are they now?  Is his own mother’s heart is breaking?   How does a human living right here among us become such a stranger to kindness, goodness, affection?  By what string of events does a person so young become so beaten, so hopeless and so careless toward life around him, including his own?

     The gospel floods through stories like this, to remind me of everything I profess to believe and to rest my life.  God’s heart breaks for him, even if his own parents’ don’t.  Left to smolder, sin destroys everything in its path; the sinner and anyone who crosses the path.   God loves us more than God hates sin and for the most broken and lost among us, Jesus came.  In God’s eyes and heart, this broken, broken boy is as worthy of redemption as all the rest.  I pray someone, somewhere loves him.  But I take courage in knowing for sure that he is loved and might someday come to know it.

~peace & prayers, pastor annette

* http://www.heraldtimesonline.com/stories/2011/11/07/news.qp-4949057.sto  
* http://www.heraldtimesonline.com/stories/2011/11/08/news.qp-7530058.sto

Beloved:

      Experts say ten to twenty percent of our population experience some form of seasonal affective disorder, or SAD.  As the amount of daylight decreases, feeling especially tired, depressed and hungry for comfort food (carbs) increases.*  My mother had it and I do too.  Arizona is the cure for many folks. At her first opportunity, my mother moved to Florida. A spot of medicine and a kinder attitude toward November is my treatment of choice. 

    What’s so great about November?  Here’s my top twelve list, because twelve is a more biblical number than ten, and in no particular order except that number one is definitely #1:

1.   Changing into pajamas at 5:30 pm.

2.   Less time in the yard is more time in my sewing room.    

3.   The color of the sky in the daytime – a blue which surely explains the

    term watercolor. 

4.   The color of the sky at night when I go out with the dogs – an ink

black blanket thrown over a sea of silver light, stars glinting through

the weave.

5.   A song by Tim Grimm called Autumn Garden in which dried plants are

    word painted as old women with soft, loose chins, hands folded on

    their chests, heads nodding in the breeze.  

6.   Bill Coverdale’s sanctuary bouquets.  Last week he found burgundy 

    hydrangea leaves to go with burning bush and drying sedum. 

7.   The kids smell like outside cold air smell when I pick them up from

    practice; more so when I am late.

8. The huge racket two squirrels make when drag racing through deep   

    leaves. 

9. Supper is cozier in the dark. Our reflections in the kitchen windows

    make the table seem more crowded.

10.Wintery food like chili and chicken potpie, eaten while wearing

pajamas, taste like love with hugs.

11.Knitting with wool instead of cotton.

12. Flannel sheets.

It’s healing just to make the list, even more to live it with a grateful heart.  I pray the day finds you joyful and at peace.  peace & prayers, ~ pastor annette

*For more information about seasonal affective disorder, go to http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/seasonal-affective-disorder

    

Beloved:

     I’ll be away next week, checking out colleges with Ben.  In eight days we’ll visit eight schools in Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island.  

     I’m looking forward to the time away and having him all to myself.  There’s little doubt he’ll leave home for college and I feel the separation already begun.  It’s not unlike picking out his first grade lunchbox; missing him and being so excited for him to go.  When he was four, he asked us to read to him from Carl’s old anatomy textbook.  At sixteen he asks college reps about opportunities for undergraduate research.  In between his dream of being a doctor hasn’t wavered.  He studies, sleeps, swims and eats – in that order.  I cook and keep the fridge full but am otherwise of little help since  AP calculus and physics are a smidge outside my area.  

     Mostly I wonder at the privilege of being witness to his life; seeing him grow from baby to man.  He’s smarter than the average bear and so far treats that giftedness responsibly.  He will be a doctor if he chooses to be.  It’s been my portion to watch and pray.  I’ve laughed a lot, been scared to death, cried with pride and a few times resisted the urge to sell him to gypsies.  But joy has been the main and most persistent; he is a joy to his parents and surely to the Lord.  God, keep him safe and me grateful.

 peace & prayers, ~pastor annette

     

        

    

Homily on an Autumn Pepper
Seven months is an ridiculously long time to grow one pepper.  
On the other hand, I learned some things,
like how they change color from the top down.  
Red slides over green like poured paint. 
Wildlife won’t touch them. 
On their nightly guerilla raids, Stealth and Capone, the raccoons, 
leave half eaten tomatoes and uprooted tubers;
but sidestep sweet peppers altogether.   

Most of all I’ve learned, of course and again, to wait.  
Life happens in its own way and time. 
Mine is to choose how I will live in the growing season.  
Summer is winding down, the earth is preparing to sleep. 
Autumn’s unspeakable beauty soothes the frustration that goes with,
 “I should have gotten more done.”  
But it only soothes if I’m willing; 
if I notice and allow the earth its due rest.  

The Lord willing, I’m going to eat the pepper for supper today.  
I expect it to taste like sunshine and grace. 
           ---Annette Hill Briggs


Thanks to Joyce Cookman for making this post into a poem!

Beloved:
     The little golden retriever, Rosie Cotton, has learned a new trick and I am sure it holds a lesson about sin.  She is in deep denial about her debilitating addiction to tennis balls.  Convinced there is a tennis ball in the powder room, she searches the room over and over, shutting the door behind her in the process.  Stuck, she sings like a heartsick coyote until someone lets her out.  
At first she’s joyful, but the cravings soon return and she is powerless over them.  If I keep the door shut, she cries to get in.  
     Of course Rosie has no desire to change. She doesn’t know how the door got shut.  She only knows she’s stuck and release requires crying for help. 
Her crying is positively mournful.  
     How many times a day do I find my mind trapped in a web of negative thinking; deprecating to self and others?   Or turning to habits and appetites that numb against the ordinary stresses of living?  Or conversations that edify no one or nothing, but taste so delicious in the moment?   Worse among them, the conviction that by my own will I can break the cycle – that I am not powerless, I don’t need help?  When help is as close as the sound of my turning toward it.  
     Epiphany! The lesson isn’t about sin, but grace.  As our powerlessness grows, so we grow ever nearer to the Loving One who is on pins and needles, delirious with the desire open the door and escort us to the divine reality of our helplessness and God’s grace.   
       I pray this day finds you living fully in the grace of God.  peace & prayers, ~ pastor annette 

       

 

Beloved:

     I’ve begun a new quilt, a pattern called Broken Star Log Cabin; 64 blocks made of 17 slivers of fabric.  The largest sliver is 5”x1”.   The smallest is 1”x1”.   That’s 1,088 pieces of fabric to be cut, sorted, marked and sewn together.  I intend to hand piece and quilt it so I figure it will take at least two years, possibly 10, to complete. Numbering the blocks as I go, I will see my stitches improve, hopefully getting tinier and straighter over time. 

     Because it’s fun, that’s why!  The focus required, the slow progress, the quiet, the fabric and the simple tools; it’s a project deeply satisfying to some part of my spirit.  My hands crave the work and my mind the relief from bigger thoughts.  It’s restful and productive and all for me.   It can sit in it’s shoebox for months, waiting patiently, without judgment. I can neglect it indefinitely and nobody cares whether I finish it or not.

      The rest of my life is the very opposite.  Projects done well are done on time, or early.  Expense is a constant consideration;  time and money are always tight.  Improvement happens in the short term.  One item crossed off the to-do list is replaced by two more. Mission creep, I think it’s called, when the project keeps growing. 

       How strange that such meaningless activity can create so much space in a life. Could it be the design of Sabbath; the very practice of being set aside for awhile; absent, idle and aware of how little space I occupy in the world?  I return not only refreshed but a little more humble and grateful for the reminder that God has everything in hand.

      I pray this lovely, rainy, fall day is full of gratitude among God’s people.  peace & prayers, pastor annette

        
If you're interested, here's the quilt pattern:

        http://webstore.quiltropolis.net/stores_app/Browse_Item_Details.asp?Shopper_id=3375818516413375&Store_id=421&page_id=23&Item_ID=1796
 

    

    

September 18, 2011

Beloved:

     I just finished my oatmeal; a very precise concoction I invented myself.  I put one cup skim milk, half a cup old fashioned oats and 1/4 tsp salt on to cook.  While it simmers I prepare my mix-ins; one packet of splenda, half an apple cut up, two tablespoons of dried cranberries and 14 dark chocolate chips.  When the cereal is done, I stir it all together and sit in my chair to look out the window and eat.   Simple, healthy and so yummy!

       But it wasn’t always so.  Until about two years ago, “I don’t like oatmeal,” was a standard I kept.  Then, in a conversation about all its benefits, I thought to myself, “When did I get to be someone who never has to do anything I don’t like?”  So I decided to make myself like oatmeal.  Once I added dark chocolate, I was hooked.  Now I can eat it any number of ways, although plain oatmeal is still a bit of challenge.   The McDonald’s version is really good too.

       This fall, I hope to coax UBC to imagine doing all kinds of things; things we believe we won’t like, things that seem too difficult, even things that seem impossible.  I intend us to put God’s to the test (Malachi 3) and discover that all things really are possible for those who believe (Mark 9:23).

     For now, I plead with you to pray for hearts and minds that are wide open, totally receptive, without resistance or defense against what God might want to say through you.  Now is the time to imagine that God can do anything within and among those who truly desire to know and to do his will.

      peace & prayers, ~ pastor annette

September 6, 2011

Beloved:

“How very good and pleasant it is it is when kindred give together in unity!”  Okay, so technically the lyric is live instead of give but good and pleasant definitely describes the way UBC’ers have given together the past several weeks.  Just over $18K was given in July and August.  Combined with recent spending reductions, our undesignated cash balance has returned to solid ground.  Should this giving pattern hold, we will be on track to fulfill our 2011 financial commitments.  Maintenance is always the more challenging part but I have every confidence in your renewed and continued faithfulness!

Alas, all this talk of money.  Many people, including me at times, find it anxious, frustrating and wearisome.  “It’s not what I come to church to hear, do, think about . . . .”  are the honest sentiments of some; sentiments I often share and to which I am sorely tempted to cater.  But I can’t ~ and we can’t.  Truth be told,  I suspect that deep down all of us want to be different, to live differently.  We want to give more or give more consistently.  We want to do church well.  We want to reach new people and grow in faithfulness, in service and in numbers, hopefully in that order. 

Can people change the way they live?  By their own wit and strength – probably not.   With confidence in God’s promises and dependence on God’s  word?   Absolutely!  

My prayer for our church these days is for WILLINGNESS; that each and every one of us and all of us together will grow more and more WILLING to do whatever it takes to be the best, most faithful community of believers we can be.  That friends, is not fundamentally a financial goal but a spiritual goal with financial requirements.  These financial requirements are the avenue by which we have arrived at a new opportunity and invitation to grow into a new way of being and doing church.  I am so excited and energized about our life together.  My prayer is that you are too. 

         Don’t forget!  Potluck Wednesday Night Supper tomorrow at 6 pm.  Everyone is invited!  Bring something yummy to share.  peace & prayers, ~pastor annette

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