"Holy Transformation." A Sermon on Transfiguration Sunday.

"Holy Transfiguration"

Exodus 34;29-35; Luke 9:28-43

         Many of the great events in the Bible took place up on a mountain.  Moses received the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai.  Elijah called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel.  Peter made his confession of faith on a mountain.  Jesus often preached on the mount.  That's a pattern we can see in the scriptures.

            In both the Old Testament and Gospel lessons we heard today, we see a pattern.  Generally, when Moses heard God's Word for him and the people of Israel, it was when he was off by himself...  away from too much busy-ness and noise.  At times, Moses brought the Israelites out of the camp...  away from the distractions of their everyday work and routine-- to hear God speak to them directly.  

            When we study the Bible, we see this pattern of withdrawing-- going apart for awhile to be with God-- and then returning.

            Sometimes it takes longer than we think it might.   When Moses came down from Mount Sinai the first time after a time apart with God, he found the Israelites worshiping the golden calf.   Since they'd broken the covenant, Moses broke the stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments.

            Then Moses made a second trip up the holy mountain.  He stayed there forty days and forty nights, fasting.  He wrote out the second set of tablets containing the Ten Commandments.   He prayed, "Show me your glory,” and God passed before him.  The LORD proclaimed the holy NAME to him and revealed more of the divine nature than had ever been revealed to the people before, saying,

            "The Lord... the Lord,

              a God merciful and gracious,

              slow to anger,

              and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness,

              keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation,

              forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin,

              yet by no means clearing the guilty....

            It was after this revelation that Moses came down among the people with his face shining so brilliantly that the people were afraid to come near him.  His appearance had been changed by his time apart with God.   There'd been a holy transformation.

            We know from reading the gospels that after his baptism, Jesus was led by the Holy Spirit into the wilderness.  He spent forty days alone in the wilderness, fasting and being tested, before he began his ministry. 

            Jesus had been praying alone, with only his closest disciples near him, when he began teaching them that he would have to undergo great suffering...   be rejected by the religious authorities...  be killed...  and the third day be raised.  Then he told them that anyone who wanted to be his disciples would have to deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow him.

            It's eight days later when Jesus takes his inner circle of disciples and goes up on a high mountain to pray.   While he was praying they saw his face change, and his clothes become dazzling white.   Then Peter and James and John saw Moses and Elijah, talking to Jesus.

            A cloud comes-- a sign of God's presence, as it had been in the Exodus.  From the cloud, a voice speaks:   "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased,” echoing the voice heard when Jesus was baptized. 

            At his baptism, there's a moment when the veil of the present is stripped away to reveal who Jesus is     and who he will be.   Now, the disciples are told not only who Jesus is-- but they also hear that they are to "listen to him."

            This strange mountaintop experience of worship happens on the way to the cross.  The end of the drama is over the horizon-- a tragedy that will end in death for Jesus...  and the scattering and disillusionment of his disciples.  On the way, there’s this mountaintop experience that looks toward the cross...  and yet transfigures the cross in a burst of revealing light and glory.

            On the Sunday of Transfiguration, just before Lent, the church makes its weary way toward the cross on Good Friday.  The story we heard talks about withdrawing and returning-- a dynamic we see throughout the gospels.  I believe this pattern of withdrawal and return is at the HEART of Christian worship...  and at the heart of our Christian life.

            In the midst of the pressures of life...  in the hectic busyness that most of us experience as ordinary time-- it’s hard to find the time and space to develop a spiritual life.  It takes commitment and discipline to look and listen for God. 

            This Wednesday is Ash Wednesday-- the beginning of Lent...  the forty days leading up to Easter.  If we want to grow in our faith...   if we want to be ready to experience the new life of the Resurrection, then we need to "take time to be holy." 

            Today's scripture lessons remind us how important it is to take time apart to be with God...  and listen for what God wants to say to us. 

            On the way to the cross, we need to withdraw and listen. We need to watch for the shining light of epiphany-- as God reveals his glory to us and transforms us gradually into God's likeness. 

            That's the reason for a Lenten discipline.   If we want to be followers of Christ-- we need to be true disciples.  We have to give Christ time to teach us...  and transform us into his likeness.

             

            I think some of you can testify that worship makes a difference in your lives.  I'm convinced that worship, study and prayer make all the difference.

            We withdraw up on the mountain, so that we can return to the valley.  We return to a world that hasn't changed.   But we've changed-- however gradually.  We have seen the Lord.  We've heard a voice. 

            Without such precious times of renewal... withdrawal... and vision, we wouldn't be able to endure life in the valley.   We wouldn't be able to walk the road that leads to the cross. 

            If we expect immediate and total spiritual perfection-- we're expecting too much.  Our transformation is happening gradually, like the transformation of the first disciples.  The Peter who was so enthusiastic about the mountaintop experience is the same Peter who denies Jesus in the face of the cross.  Human failure to comprehend, let alone live up to, divine revelation is a hard fact of life. 

            God calls us to accept it as fact, but to be strengthened by the assurance that God never gives up on us.  The Lord never abandons us to failure.   

            God gives us the hope we need to follow Jesus boldly, and gives us the Spirit of the Lord to lead us further into the truth...  further into the freedom that Christ offers us.

            The Apostle Paul said that we "see the glory of God as though reflected in a mirror dimly"...   and that we're being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another."  

            God isn't finished with any of us yet.  At our worst moments-- both individually and as a church-- we act as if God is finished with us.  We act as if creation had been finished a long, long time ago.  But nothing could be further from the truth. 

            The Holy Spirit still moves over the face of the waters.  God still breathes life into piles of dust.  Jesus still shouts us from our tombs. 

            God still sheds new light on our understanding...  and lights our faces with the radiance of His glorious self-giving love.  God continues to shine upon us... to transform us, almost imperceptibly, one degree at a time.   

            And that, my friends, is good news!

            Thanks be to God!

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

March 3, 2019

           

                      

          

"Blessed Are the Peacemakers." A meditation for the Interfaith Prayers for Peace" at Littlefield Presbyterian Church.

Some of the leaders and participants at Interfaith Prayers for Peace at Littlefield Presbyterian Church, 2018.

"Blessed Are the Peacemakers"

Matthew 5:1-16

         The verses we just heard are from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.” We heard Jesus speaking what we call the Beatitudes:  "Blessed are the poor in spirit...  the mourners...  the meek... the merciful...   Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you....  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven."^[1]

            Blessed are you who mourn. 

            For those of us who long for a better, more peaceful world, this is a distressing time. There are so many things to mourn.

            More than 400 children who were separated from their families at the southern border are still separated from their families.

            The mass shootings happen so often that we don’t even hear about most of them.

            People struggle to deal with the ways trauma from assault changed their lives, and the hashtag #Why I didn’t report is trending in social media.

            The list could go on and on…

            There are so many things to mourn.  Like poverty and injustice, in our communities, in our nation, and in the world.

            In the United States of America--one of the richest countries in the world. children remain the poorest age group. According to the Children’s Defense Fund, nearly one in five children--12.8 million in total-- were poor in 2017. Over 45 percent of these children lived in extreme poverty at less than half the poverty level.

            3 million children in the U.S. live in families surviving on $2 a day per person.[1]

            The federal poverty threshold is $12,140 for individuals and $25,100 for a family of four. One in seven people in the United States live below the federal poverty threshold. That’s 13.9% of the population, or 44.7 million. According to this federal threshold, a single adult making $12,141 is not poor, though they are considered “low income.”   The wealthiest 1 percent of American households own 40 percent of the country’s wealth, which is more than at any time in the past fifty years. [7]
            When we look around and see all the injustice and need, it can feel overwhelming and despairing.  But we don’t have to work alone.  I find myself mourning all this violence and need, and longing to do something. 

            So, what can we do? 

           We can begin by praying together and forging bonds of friendship and solidarity… getting to know one another better… opening our hearts and minds to one another… and finding ways to work together to change the world. 

            Sometimes, it’s a matter of seeing a need and working together to relieve suffering and let people know we care, like the time a group of interfaith friends gathered needed items for Syrian refugees and got together in somebody’s basement in this neighborhood and packed them for sending them.  People of different faiths work together with Project Dignity to feed desperately poor people in Detroit and address the needs of women and children through Zaman International.

            More than fifty years ago, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. declared in his famous speech “A Time to Break Silence” that, “True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar. It comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring.”

            Last May, on the Monday after Mother’s Day, in our nation’s capital and in state capitals around the country, people who are committed to work for a fairer society gathered to launch the first phase of a new Poor People’s Campaign. This is an interfaith movement, made up of older people and younger people, Jews, Muslims, Christians, people of other faiths and people of goodwill who aren’t part of a religious community. It’s a movement that gives voice to people who are directly impacted by poverty and injustice, that brings people together in solidarity as we work together in a series of actions to try to change the conversation in our nation about systemic injustice.

            There’s hard work to be done.   But we can work together to make a difference.  There are values our faith traditions hold in common—values that have to do with love and justice and peace. 

            For all people of faith and goodwill, this is a time for us to find ways to come together and work for a better, more peaceful, merciful, and just world--for everyone.
            As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “We must learn to live together as brothers [and sisters] or perish together as fools."

            Our commitment to peace and justice and reconciliation, and our love for our own children, demands that we provide a better inheritance for them.” There’s hard work to be done.   But we can work together to make a difference.

             After worship, we invite you to stay for a time, to enjoy some refreshments and conversation.   We hope you’ll make a new friend today.  Talk with one another about your families—especially your children or grandchildren and about what kind of a world you want to leave for them.

            Talk about what teachings from our various faith traditions inspire and challenge you…and about what common ground you see in our various traditions. Talk about the people who inspire you and challenge you in your commitment.

            Let’s renew our commitment to change the world-- beginning today. 

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

September 23, 2018

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[1] Child Poverty, at Children’s Defense Fund website:  https://www.childrensdefense.org/policy/policy-priorities/child-poverty/

      

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[1] Child Poverty, at Children’s Defense Fund website:  https://www.childrensdefense.org/policy/policy-priorities/child-poverty/

"And There He Prayed." A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Mark 1:29-39 on the 5th Sunday after Epiphany.

"And There He Prayed"

Mark 1:29-39

Mark’s Gospel moves at a breathless pace. One scene fades quickly into another and then another.  Over the past few weeks, In the sweep of a few verses, we’ve heard how John the Baptist gathers the crowds, preaches “the forgiveness of sins”, and announces the good news. Jesus arrives and is baptized and the heavens split and a voice announces “You are my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

            Jesus announces that the “good news” of God’s reign has already arrived and calls people to repent and believe the good news. Then Jesus calls people to follow him and fish for people, and immediately they followed him.  Then they go to the synagogue in Capernaum on the Sabbath, where the crowds were astounded at the authority of his teaching and his power to cast out demonic powers.

Jesus’ fame began to spread throughout the region of Galilee. 

            That’s where we pick up the story today. Today’s gospel lesson can be divided up into four scenes, in two settings.

            Scene 1. As soon as they leave the synagogue, they go to the house of Simon Peter and Andrew, with James and John. Simon’s mother-in-law is sick in bed with a fever. Jesus heals her, and she’s restored and able to serve.  

            Scene 2.  That evening, they brought all who were sick or possessed with demons to Jesus.  Mark tells us the whole city was gathered around the door.  Jesus cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons.

            Scene 3. In the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up and went out to a deserted place, and “there he prayed.”

            Scene 4.  Simon and his companions found Jesus and said, “Everyone is searching for you.” And Jesus answered, “Let’s go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also, for that is what I came out to do.”   And Jesus went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

            Jesus’ mission is to proclaim the gospel and cast out demons and bring healing, and that’s what he was doing. People who were sick, hopeless, and desperate came to him because he offered a glimmer of hope in a hopeless and dismal world.

            The demanding crowds came because they wanted something...  because Jesus had what they wanted most...   what they couldn’t find anywhere else-- health of mind and body.  Wholeness.  They came for his healing touch.

            The demand of the crowd upon Jesus' life was great.  So much so that "in the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place to pray.

            Jesus realized he couldn't give out to others anymore.  As I was working on this passage, I remembered the instructions you get when you fly, about the oxygen masks that drop down in emergency situations.  If I were flying with a child or an elderly relative or anyone needing assistance, my first instinct would be to take care of them first.  But the flight attendants caution you to put on your own oxygen mask first.  Otherwise, you could pass out before you have a chance to help anybody else.

            The whole city had been pressing in around the door-- people who were sick or possessed with demons.  Jesus must have been exhausted from ministering to those who were so desperate...  so needy.

            So, Jesus went someplace where he could be alone, away from the cries of the needy, the demands of people, the insistence that he do something. It wasn't that he didn't care about the needs of the people who sought him.  Rather it was a matter of staying connected with God, so that he could maintain a clear sense of purpose.

            How easy it is for our lives to be cluttered with the needs and demands of others.  We find ourselves going in several different directions at one time. 

            Pastors and different kinds of caregivers often deal with people who are possessed by grief or fear or terror that will not let them go.  People are struggling with addictions of various kinds, whether to alcohol or drugs or gambling or work or something else.  People are suffering from mental or physical illness.  Others are confused and agonizing over various issues. Some or desperately lonely.  People are poor...  hungry...  homeless or in woefully inadequate housing.  Everywhere we look, there is such pain...  such need. 

            In our families, our children, even if they're adults, need us.  Elderly parents and other relatives need our care.

            Such need.  Such busy-ness.

            Sometimes I wonder if we think we are the busiest people who ever lived on the face of the earth.  We end up doing a lot of things, but sometimes we wonder why we don’t have more of a sense of fulfillment or accomplishment.  We might feel overwhelmed…or find ourselves on the edge of burnout. 

            As someone pointed out, burnout isn't the result of too much activity.  It's the result of the wrong kind of activity.  Or it can be from how we approach it.  Instead of energizing and building us up, it can wear us down and sap our energy. 

            When I read the gospels, I get the impression that Jesus couldn't have been much busier if he’d had a smart phone.  Yet, in spite of his busyness and the nonstop demands on his time, Jesus knew he needed time to get away and put things in perspective...and to gain a clear understanding of God and God's purpose. 

            When we read through the gospels, we discover that there’s a pattern in Jesus’ life. He worshipped regularly with his community of faith, and he got away regularly for time alone to pray. This is how he stayed centered in God’s love and purpose and found balance in his life.

            If Jesus needed to do this, how much more do we need to do it?

            Yes, we're busy.  So busy.   But when we find ourselves feeling too busy to worship and pray, we need to ask ourselves-- are we busy doing the wrong things?  The images in the gospel story remind us that we need to do what Jesus did-- get away and spend time in prayer...  meditate...  and seek God's will.

            So often, over the years, I’ve heard myself saying, “When things calm down, then I'll have some time alone.  I'll have more time to pray and meditate."  (Although I'm happy to report that I hear myself saying it less than I used to.)

            In recent years, I’ve made it a priority to make a silent retreat. I find a time in my schedule when I can be away for a few days and call the retreat center to see if they can accommodate me. I pack up whatever work and reading I want to take, and food, and drive to Gilchrist. While I’m there, I have to walk over toward the office to get a cell signal. There’s no TV or radio. Just my playlists on my phone so I can listen to music from Taizé or Iona or other meditative music. I structure my day around simple meals, work, long walks, reading, and prayer.  Sometimes I go for several days without talking to anyone.  “And there, I pray.”

            Jesus knew it would never calm down.  He couldn't wait for that to happen.  He set time aside to spend in prayer and meditation, very intentionally. 

            "In the morning while it was still very dark."  This sounds like something I learned when I had a young child:  the only quiet time parents have is after the children go to bed at night   or early in the morning before they wake up.  That's when I got in the habit of staying up late to read and have my quiet time. 

            We need to be intentional in planning our quiet time.  Some folk find quiet time in their cars-- away from telephones and interruptions-- by turning off their radios and cell phones.  One or two of you have shared with me that you pray for others while you're commuting to work.  Others find quiet time when they walk...  or in the garden, as I do.  

            Why is this time apart so important?

            Look what happens here.  Just as we are likely to get interrupted by a child running into the room or the clock striking or the telephone ringing, Jesus' followers who were hunting for him find him and say, "Everyone is looking for you!"

            Some of us are in positions--in work or family life-- where someone always has something more for us to do. If we don’t learn to stop and discern and to occasionally say “No,” we’ll always be piling on more and more things to do.

            Sometimes, if we’re honest with ourselves, we need to admit that it feels good to be so busy and sought after. We might feel a swell of pride rising:  "Look at me!  I'm important!  I'm needed!  They love me."

            We run from sunup to sundown.  Chasing and being chased by responsibilities and expectations.  Sometimes it can feel as if we're possessed by all the responsibilities and by our need to be the important caregiver and achiever.

            This morning we come to the table of our Lord.  The pace is slowed.  It can be for us a moment of withdrawal...   a time to catch your breath.  A moment to reflect upon the bread, the body of Christ...    and the cup, the blood of Christ.  A time for our spirits to be fed!   A time for us to accept Christ's healing touch in our lives.

            God's love for us at this moment becomes so visible...  so personal...  so close...  and so reassuring.  We come to the Table, and God through Christ again offers God’s very self to us.

            This is my body, broken for you...

            This is my blood-- for you...

            Let us taste, and see that the Lord is good!

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

February 4, 2018

"The Power of Persistence." A sermon on Luke 8:1-8 and Isaiah 58, on Bread for the World Sunday. (With some reflections on the campaign season)

"The Power of Persistence"

Luke 18:1-8; Isaiah 58

Our faith tells us that God is merciful, loving, and powerful.  But the injustice and suffering we see all around us challenge that conviction. 

As Matthew Skinner suggests, “The system is rigged.  It always has been.”[1]  And so, as Skinner points out, people of faith have been complainers. 

“Justice never prevails,” the prophet Habakkuk complained to God.  Job lamented why God remained silent and apparently indifferent while he suffered:  “I call aloud, but there is no justice.”  [Habakkuk 1:4]

            Describing the abuses perpetrated by those who wield power, the prophet Micah said, “Their hands are skilled to do evil; the official and the judge ask for a bribe, and the powerful dictate what they desire. Thus they pervert justice.”  [Micah 7:3]

            People of faith complain—not because we’re whiney or grumpy.  When we complain about injustice, we’re insisting on a different world.  We remember that God created the world and called it good…and intends goodness.  We ache to see God’s intentions for human flourishing become realities.   So we keep doing what we can to help our hopes become a reality.

            In the gospel lesson we just heard, Jesus tells a parable about a widow who refuses to put up with an unjust system.  Luke says the  parable is about the disciples’ need to pray always and not to lose heart. 

“In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people.  In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’”

For a while this unjust judge refused, but later he said to himself, “Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.”

This widow uses the resources she has:  her voice and her persistence.  In time, her continuing advocacy for justice eventually gets results.   

Jesus said, “Will not God grant justice to God’s chosen ones who pray day and night?” 

In her society, the widow in the parable would have been marginalized and powerless, but she did what she could:  she prayed always, persistently.  Rather than wishing passively for things to be better, she advocates actively for justice, in her commitment to do what she can to work for a better world.

            Jesus tells about the persistent actions of this widow to show us what Christians are called to do.  Our Christian faith invites us to channel our frustrations with the brokenness of our society into prayer, and then into prayerful action.  Our faith calls us into advocacy that demands a response from God and from our society.  As people of faith, as individuals and communities, we are called to advocate for justice from those who have the power to grant it.  This advocacy uses whatever tools are available.  Whatever it takes to get the system to change, even if sometimes it’s only a little.

            Right now we’re in the midst of the ugliest political campaign I can remember.  I know many of us are very troubled by the lack of civility and how the mud-slinging has distracted us from the kind of serious discussion of important issues of vital importance to our nation.  It’s hard not to feel hopeless at times about the polarization in our nation.   

            Elections are pivotal moments, with outcomes that will last into the future, and there’s a lot of anxiety around this.  All the drama and debate and rhetoric could distract us from our basic calling as followers of Jesus.   

            In the midst of all this, we need to remember that there is no perfect candidate.  No one person can solve all the problems.  So it’s good news that we aren’t electing a Messiah—because we already have our Messiah: Jesus Christ, whom alone we worship and follow.

            All of the candidates have shown us who they are and what their strengths and weaknesses are.  So we need to pray for discernment, that we may use our votes to support the candidate who is best equipped to lead our nation through this time of great change and challenge.  

            No matter who wins the election on November 8, we know that we are beloved children of God.  We know that God is good, all the time.  We know that God continues to call us to embody God’s love in the world, and to work for justice and peace, to be repairers of the breach, the restorers of our communities and our nation.  We are called to work to promote the well-being of our neighbors and especially those who are denied justice.  This is true now, and it will be true on November 9 and the days that follow.

           

            Now and every day we are called to be a servant church.  When we are most faithfully being the servant church, we’re feeding the hungry, calling on the sick and visiting the home-bound.   We’re serving those in the community who are needy and hurting, through friendship and practical kinds of help.  We’re standing with those who are marginalized, and with victims of  violence and assault.   When we’re being the servant church, we share in Christ’s ministry in the world by generously supporting the mission of the church with our tithes and offerings.

            And—something I’ve been thinking a lot about the past few weeks—we’re being a servant church when we work to build bridges of understanding, when we work to bring about reconciliation.  I hope we’ll be praying about this in the days leading up to the election and following.  This congregation has committed itself to peacemaking.  So how can we build bridges that cross partisan divisions and work toward healing?  

           

            Now and every day, we are called to care for those in need.  Today has been designated as Bread for the World Sunday.   Yesterday was World Food Day. 

            We who have plenty to eat are reminded that many people don’t, and that many of those who are hungry or food insecure are children. 

            Bread for the World reminds us that nearly 16 million children in the United States, in one of the richest countries in the world — that’s almost one in five — live in households that struggle to put food on the table. Many of these children have parents who have jobs and work hard, but whose wages aren’t high enough to cover the high costs of rent, transportation, and utilities — and daily meals.
            So our federal government’s feeding programs serve as a lifeline for vulnerable children and families. Because children are hit especially hard by the effects of hunger and malnutrition,  nutrition programs aimed at children are particularly important. 
            A healthy start in life — even before a child is born — pays off for years, in terms of intellectual development --not only for individual children and families, but for communities and our nation as a whole.
            Only one out of every 20 grocery bags that feed people who are hungry come from church food pantries and other private charities.   Federal nutrition programs, from school meals to SNAP (formerly known as food stamps), provide the rest.   Our government’s child nutrition programs serve millions of children each year. 

Locally, and in the short term, we are helping to alleviate hunger when we give to the Presbyterian Hunger Program through our Two Cents a Meal offering… when we support Church World Service…when we support the mission of the Open Door or Focus Hope or volunteer at Gleaners.

            But we also need to work on the systemic causes of hunger.   For a lot of us,  hunger and poverty seem overwhelming.  But we don’t have to do it alone. 

            Bread for the World is a faith-based education and advocacy organization that I’ve belonged to for some years.  The reason I personally support Bread for the World is because they have a remarkable record of helping win passage of bipartisan legislation that addresses hunger.   As a result of this advocacy, children in the United States receive vital nutrition.   Emergency food reaches refugees from famine and conflict in Africa.  Agricultural development is enabling hungry people in various parts of the world to grow enough food to feed their families.

            If you want to help Bread for the World with this important, persistent advocacy work, you are invited to give them a donation.  Or you could commit yourself to sending letters to your elected representatives in Congress.  I’ll post a link on the church Facebook page and send one in an email to help you do this advocacy work if you feel led to do so.

            It took me between five and ten minutes to personalize the form letter at the website, which was then automatically sent to my congressional representatives.  It’s a small thing, but it’s important.  It’s a way to act prayerfully and faithfully.

            As Teresa of Avila famously put it, "Christ has no body now on earth but yours… no hands but yours…  no feet but yours.  Yours are the eyes through which God’s compassion will look upon the world.  Yours are the feet with which God will go about doing good.  Yours are the hands with which God will bless others now."

            We are called to serve—to be Christ’s hands and feet in the world.

When we respond to Christ’s call and work together, we can help to change the conditions and the policies that allow hunger to persist. 

            We are called to share our bread with the hungry, to bring the homeless poor into our house… to care for basic needs of those who are marginalized.

            Speaking through the prophet Isaiah, God promises us that we will not have to do this alone.  When we call, the LORD will answer.  When we cry for help, God will say, “Here I am.”[2]

            If we remove the yoke, the speaking of evil, if we offer our food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,

Then our light shall rise in the darkness.

            This is a blessed promise and vision:  

The LORD will guide you continually,

and satisfy your needs in parched places…

you shall be like a watered garden,

like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.

Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt… 

you shall be called the repairer of the breach..

the restorer of streets to live in.

            

So be it!  Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

October 16, 2016

Here's a link to Bread for the World.  You are invited to contribute to their  Offering of Letters to advocate with Congressional representatives to end hunger, with an emphasis on women and young children.

https://secure3.convio.net/bread/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&page=UserAction&id=310&_ga=1.61618218.703944482.1475094274

        

        

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[1] http://www.onscripture.com/no-justice-no-peace

[2] Isaiah 58