Craving Help

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling,                                             St. Paul's Lynnfield

It’s good to be with you all again this morning, in yet another season of the year. A Sunday in February, another one in April, then June, and now September, with gratitude to Rob for his invitations, and to all of you for your warm welcomes, like a bad habit, I am back! You may remember that I love the Celtics basketball team, and right now I am excited about three teams. The Celtics season starts tonight at TD Garden, and I can’t wait! The Patriots are off to a slow start in football, but there’s no panic yet. And, yesterday, Paul and I were at Fenway, watching the Red Sox play the Yankees, and during which I caught a ball, then gave it to two boys, a Yankees fan and a Red Sox fan. Let them fight over it! Today, I wonder about our red and blue teams. Are we a divided house?  With sports teams and their fans, I think there is always a craving to win.

Unlike its name, the book of Numbers isn’t only about counting the Israelites who had escaped from Egypt, or gathered in their tents for a meeting, a political vote, or Sabbath worship. The book of Numbers has some great stories about our Judeo-Christian team and our long history together. It has stories about our journeys, our leaders, and our people. It records our wins and losses in battles along the way. Written with unfailing honesty, the author talks about our human tendencies to whine and complain, and acknowledges our strong human cravings. We weep with our losses and unfulfilled desires. We are jealous of each other’s gifts. We use power for the wrong reasons. We get fed up, displeased, and outright angry because we want certain things and we can’t get them.

Now the Israelites had escaped from slavery in Egypt, crossed the Red Sea, received the 10 commandments of God, and are now wandering in the desert of Sinai. Moses is leading them towards the Promised Land, and they are all tired from their long and difficult journey. There is no end in sight, and the people and their families begin to complain, first among themselves, and then to Moses.They remember the good times; and they demand relief from their suffering.

I love the descriptive language in today’s lesson. The crowd is called “the rabble” which means “a mixed group of people who were not Israelites.” They were a bunch of rabble rousers, people who had joined the Israelites’ journey for different reasons, adding their voices to a swelling number of people along the way. There is power when large groups of people gather; people often divide into camps, according to their families, or their interests, or for manageability and crowd control. Needs aren’t met, voices rise, and conflict erupts; sometimes things turn ugly, even violent. It has been said that the first casualty of war is truth; and when peace is destroyed; it’s a long journey back to reconciliation.

Scripture tells us that the rabble among the Israelites had a strong craving. Like people addicted to opiods, our cravings can be so strong that we will do anything, or say anything, to satisfy our need for relief. We want our team to win, and so we play dirty. We crave support for our beliefs and are angry when others disagree. We have real experiences that people neither understand or don’t believe. We rightly demand to be treated with respect and dignity; and yet our political and church leaders, not to mention our fellow human beings, continue to fail us with unfailing consistency. We all end up being losers when vitriol and uncivil discourse rule our land.

We are people on a journey from one land to the next, living in a country, some would even call the Promised Land. We come from diverse ancestors, in a land which was conceived out of religious and political conflict, and is dedicated to providing liberty and justice for all. We have human laws, based upon God’s perfect laws, to protect our civil, religious, and human rights. We want the scales of justice and mercy to hang in balance.

We crave certain things, sometimes doing harm to ourselves and to others, with angry outbursts, undignified behavior, deception, disrespect, and even death threats. We whine and complain, raising our collective voices of discontent, and begin to make demands of others. We say, “I’m sick and tired of this; and I want that.” We blame others for our suffering. “It’s all your fault that we’re stuck here in this desert. And if you weren’t like that, I wouldn’t be here now.” In the heat of our craving and our conflict, we demand relief. “Give us some meat,” said the Israelites to Moses!

The Israelites are tired and weak from their journey. They are hungry and sick of the daily bread that God has been providing, and their memories are short and selective. Now, safely on the other side of the Red Sea, with forks and knives in their hands, they recall only the good life in Egypt. With mouths salivating, they remember “the fish we used to eat in Egypt for nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic.”

Have you ever been around children or adults whose whining, complaining, and incessant demands start to get under your skin?  Perhaps in a moment of frustration, you will say, “Just stop it!” When I am hungry, angry, lonely, or tired, I remember that acronym HALT. When I begin to whine, complain, and demand relief from others, I tell myself to stop it and get back to basics. Basics, like self-assessment. Basics, like rational analysis and listening to other perspectives. Like remembering the dignity and equality of all human beings, even if I disagree or dislike them. Above all, basics that include asking God for help.

After its loss to the Detroit Lions last Sunday, quarterback Tom Brady said, “The process has been the same. It’s just not getting done on the field. And we have to get it corrected soon. It’s about hard work. It’s about being disciplined. We all (have) to look at ourselves and figure out what we can do to help.” And teammate Devin McCourty added , “We (have) to show character, keep working, and believe in our process and how we can get better.” (Tara Sullivan, the Globe, Sept. 24, 2018)

With great fear and trepidation, I raise the current Judge Kavanaugh situation. Today, I know it is tempting to take sides, to root for our team to win, to crave justice for one person, to complain about the process, and to demand that someone do something to make it right. Many of us are sick and tired of how the political games are being played, and the news that feeds us daily. Many of us are displeased, discontent, and like God, we are very angry.

Moses had been a faithful leader of his people, and throughout their journey together, he had often interceded for them through prayers and conversations with God. This time, however, he too was frustrated with the situation; and so he complained to God about how God was treating him. “Why have you treated your servant so badly? Why have I not found favor in your sight, that you lay the burden of all these people on me?  If this is the way you are going to treat me, put me to death at once—and do not let me see my misery.” Moses was demanding relief from God; and so can we.

“These are your people,” Moses told God, as if God didn’t already know. In a moment of pique, he said, “You created them; and so you should take care of them.” Scripture says that God was very angry. Had they forgotten all the good things that God had done? Had they forgotten that God provides? That God is always present, all powerful, and all knowing. That God would continue to liberate them, save them, and lead them?

Sometimes I wonder if anything good can ever come out of Washington, just as the people once asked that about Nazareth and Jesus. Today, Jesus talks about salt, and how when salt has lost its saltiness, it’s no longer good. When we get so worn out, hungry, lonely, angry, and tired, we lose our salt. We crave; we complain; we whine; and we demand things from others. We put up stumbling blocks. We remember only partial truths. We are jealous, suspicious, deceitful, and demanding. We forget to stop and ask God for help.

“Are any among you suffering?” asks the author of James. “They should pray.” I believe that we are all hungry for justice; that we are all angry about the uses and abuses of power; that we may feel lonely in our fight for justice, and I think it is safe to say that we are all tired of the way things are. HALT. News flash. We are all suffering. Even God.

Jesus proclaimed that “Whoever is for the goodness of God is not against God and so, do not stop them. Indeed remove the stumbling blocks or the parts of your Body that get in the way of the kingdom of God.” On this day when the Celtics season begins at home, I remember that there is no “I” in “team.” I remember that we are all equal and important members of the Body of Christ, with feet that stumble, hands that harm, and eyes that are blind. Today, I call a “time-out” in the games that people play. I call a recess in our House in order to pray and ask God for help.

“Moses, you need help?” God asked. “Call 70 elders and I will give them my Spirit” which blows everywhere, and gives wisdom to everyone. The Spirit is in this House today. Aside from our daily bread, God gives us the meat, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. God’s never-ending mission of reconciliation can unite us, bringing health and salvation to our broken and hurting world.

In the words of Jesus, ”Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” In praying for these things, we are all winners. Amen.

Numbers 11:4-6,10-16,24-29
Psalm 19:7-14
James 5:13-20
Mark 9:38-50

Book of Common Prayer, p.461: “This is another day, O Lord. I know not what it will bring forth, but make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be. If I am to stand up, help me to stand bravely. If I am to sit still, help me to sit quietly. If I am to lie low, help me to do it patiently. And if I am to do nothing, let me do it gallantly. Make these words more than words, and give me the Spirit of Jesus. Amen.

From Fear to Faith

SHE - A Women’s Retreat                                        The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Trinity Episcopal Church                                                     From Fear to Faith

Newtown, Connecticut                                                                     Herstory

Camp Washington, September 22-23, 2018

                       

In the beginning, I was created in the image of God, but I didn’t know it. What I did know was that I was the middle child, with an older brother and a younger sister, and that I grew up in a family steeped in fear, with histories of mental illness and addictions. Like many people, and for different reasons, I was afraid that I was not loveable; and so I sought various ways to find love. My best places were school, sports, and church. It was there that I could be fun-loving, social, and free. It was there that I could be me.

It is impossible for me to speak about how I moved from fear to faith without talking about my husband Paul’s decision to seek treatment for his disease of alcoholism. For addicts and their families, fear is daily bread. And at that time in our lives, I often felt vulnerable, alone, and terrified. Our family had been living in Sandy Hook and attending Trinity Church for about 5 years at that point. Our daughter Megan was in 4th grade, Brian was in 2nd grade, and I was doing a lot of volunteer work with Youth Services in Newtown and the Girl Scouts.

On Sundays, we would have breakfast at My Place and then go to church. Like eating vegetables, Paul and I felt Church was important for our children’s health, despite the drinking and smoking that went on at home. When we sat in the pews - our lovely, intact, blonde, and faithful family of four - I wanted to post a sign behind our backs. It said: Don’t let images fool you. We are not what we look like.

In December of 1989, when Paul left for the Hazelden/Betty Ford treatment center in Minnesota, I was invited to attend the family program. There I began to discover the benefits of 12 step spirituality for everyone. One al-anon book, called “Courage to Change,” writes, “Fear was a daily part of my experience of alcoholism, and I learned certain ways to cope with it. I often catch myself reacting to my fears in the same way today, even though my circumstances have changed.” I realized then in 1989, as I realize today and every day, that I do not want to live with fear controlling my life. I want courage to change. I want to live faithfully.

If you’ve ever struggled in your relationship with someone suffering from any kind of disease, or have one yourself, you can live in constant fear. Because we are not “at ease” with our “dis-eases”, we keep secrets, deny the truth, or become anxious and frozen in fear, waiting for we know not what, or the next shoe to drop. There are many types of fear: the fear of abandonment, the fear of failure, the fear of rejection, the fear of the unknown, the fear of harm, illness, death and loss. A therapist writes about the fear of scarcity, of us not having enough - not enough self-esteem, not enough confidence, not enough happiness, or not enough love. As if any one of these is a zero sum game. (Forward Day by Day, Aug. 22, Charles D. Thomas)

Fear pops up all round us. We worry about where our country is headed and if our world is doomed for destruction. Many of us are beginning to wonder about our safety in what seems to be an increasingly chaotic and violent world. We worry about economic security and how our health care will be managed. We wonder about the costs of our decisions, and what effect they will have on ourselves, our children, and future generations. For those of us in the later years of our lives, we might begin to wonder about death. It all begs the question: how much control do we actually have?

During that particular time in our lives, I worried all the time. My mind lived in a world of “what-ifs.” What if he died? What if he left me? What if someone found out? My fear colored all my relationships. I lived in an unrealistic world, in which I imagined everyone else had it “all together.” I went to Church but my spiritual life remained unknown and untapped. Anxiety and depression were my secret companions -that is, until I could no longer deny the truth. Identifying our fears is a first step toward faith.

 This bottom for me was one of many new beginnings. I knew that I needed help and I was ready and willing to find it. My move from fear to faith began with single steps, small groups, and simple actions; and the people of Trinity Church played a major role in that rescue mission. When we first moved into our neighborhood, Amy Dent had come to our door, with brownies in hand, and told me that we should attend Trinity Church, and not St. John’s, because ‘they don’t like women there.’ In Church, I realized that when I was in the sanctuary, a safe place for me, I could talk to God privately, and pray for my family secretly.

 In my very first month at Trinity, listening to a sermon, I heard myself say, “I want to do that.” It was an absurd thought and I immediately rejected it. Instead, when no one signed up for coffee hour, and we had nothing to drink that morning, I became its coordinator. I can do that, I said to myself. Besides, how can you have coffee hour without coffee? Like, how can you be a Christian without Jesus?

I needed pastoral care desperately, but I didn’t know it. After all, I had been raised in a culture of “fierce independence.” And so I was not only reluctant but a little bit resentful when Connie Weatherup invited me to be a part of a team. I was struggling with my own dinner time witching hours, with two toddlers and an absent husband, but who knew? Why can’t these people just order take-out, I wondered. They have husbands at home. Why is it that women are always the ones who provide the meals?  Clearly, my inner “She” was fuming and “She” was resistant.

I didn’t realize then, as I do now, how mutually beneficial it is to care for one another. Feeding other people is as old as the story of Adam and Eve. In one 12 step meditation book, the author writes, “Fear has a smell. So does love.” (WWDTM, Dec. 23) For me, love smells like home-cooking on Thanksgiving Day. It smells like cupcakes, chocolate, coffee, and champagne, like Breakfast Sundays, like candles and incense, like bread and wine at the Eucharistic feast.

 I went on my first silent retreat to Holy Cross Monastery with people from Trinity. Although I had never been to a monastery before, I was excited to spend a weekend away from my family, and going to a monastery with a Church group was a socially acceptable activity. I cried the whole time. I realized how much I was hurting and how scared I had become. For me, this was the beginning of the end of my denial. In silence, I faced some ugly truths. I dropped my bags and my baggage and asked God for help. The Cross is the Medicine of the World.

Little by little, my sense of self and power had eroded over time, and with the storm of this particular disease in our lives, I discovered that my house was not built on a rock, but rather on shifting sand. And I was sinking. I also learned that “fear is only an illusion, which creates the feeling of separateness - the false sense of isolation that exists only in our imagination. We are one. We are connected, and as we come to understand our connectedness, our fears will die.” (Each Day, Jan. 11)

Fortunately, I became connected to many people as I moved from fear to faith. It began with the 12 step community, with the single steps of 1, 2, and 3, in which I realized I was powerless over others, that a Power greater than me could restore me to sanity, and that I was willing to give God a “try.” It began with small groups at Trinity for Christian education, like EFM, Bible study, pastoral care, and prayers. It began with simple actions like attending the midweek healing Eucharist, finding a therapist, and bringing a meal to someone in need.

My small steps seemed enormous to me; and so I prayed for courage. Courage is faith who has said her prayers; and our courage helps us to take risks, and to try new things. (Dec 6, WWDTM)  When I first became a lector in Church, or opened my mouth at a meeting, my voice quivered so much that it didn’t matter what my audience looked like. Naked or not, I just knew that I was scared. And I still kept trying.

To help me find my “She voice”, I created a mantra. No matter how small the group, and how trusted the audience, I would pray a passage from Isaiah to steady my nerves. “O God, you will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on you; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength.”  With trust in God, I could move from fear to faith; I could go from strength to strength. I could “let go and let God.”

My faith journey continued to expand and deepen. I offered to serve on the vestry, as the outreach chair. Being involved with Amos House, Habitat for Humanity, the Local Housing Partnership in Newtown, and a prison ministry was a time of enormous spiritual growth for me. Teaching high school kids on Sunday mornings and going on mission trips to various places throughout our country was always a spiritual high. “Shifting our focus, from self-centered fears to another person’s needs, offers us a perspective on our own life. It also offers us a chance to let God work through us. Our own faith is strengthened each time we offer our services to God and to a friend in need.” (Each Day, April 17)

Matthew’s gospel, Chapter 6: 25-34, is one of my favorite gospel passages. It encourages us to orient ourselves towards God. In it, I hear Jesus say, “No worries,” and then counsels me to live one day at a time. He tells me that I am loved, that God will provide my basic needs, clothing for the lilies of the field and food for the birds of the air, and that I need not worry about my life or the future. Besides, “today’s troubles are enough,” Jesus says. “So, seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all else will be given unto you.” With God, there is no fear of scarcity, there is always enough. With God, there is no fear for safety; for Jesus said, “I am Resurrection and I am Life.”

There is a 12 step phrase that says we “come to believe” in a Power greater than us. We come to believe by taking single steps, like showing up - for a meeting or for Church or for a women’s retreat. We come to believe through small groups, where we hear each other’s stories, share our struggles, our fears, and our faith. We come to believe that we are connected, and that spirituality is essential  for our recovery. We come to believe in a Power that will heal us - trusting in that Power to guide us forward in faith, one step at a time.

Yes, before Hazelden and Trinity, I kind of believed in God, but my God was distant, and Paul’s God was a “gotcha God.” At that time in our lives, we knew only one kind of spirit, which came in a bottle; and as for Jesus, well only “other people” talked about him and that was embarrassing. It was through single steps, small groups, and simple actions that I came to believe in a God that was close, loving, and real. I came to believe in a God that had a name and a face. I came to believe that I was made in the image of God and that I was loved unconditionally.

I have researched the word “fear” in scripture so many times that it astonishes me. Despite my fear of abandonment, I came to believe that I am never alone, even when I feel lonely. Poems like “Footprints in the Sand” remind me that even if my house is built on sinking sand, there is a Rock beneath it, and that Someone will carry me. Even today, especially in the silence, I can hear, Jesus speak to me. “Why are you still afraid?” Jesus asks me, “O, you of little faith. It is I and I am here. Not just then,” Jesus says. “I am here with you now.”

Scripture reminds me that perfect love casts out fear. And there are plenty of love stories in the Bible. When we are brave and strong, like Mary, when we are loyal and generous, like Ruth, when we are prayerful and prophetic like Hannah, we reveal God’s love. Like Jesus, through our bodies, minds, and hearts, through our hands, feet, and voices, we are She together. United in a community, connected to God, we are incredible women, moving forward in faith, hope, and love. We are caring, creative, and compassionate. We are prayerful, passionate, and purposeful. Small groups, single steps, and simple actions can make a difference.

 Yes, fear is real, and fear is also realistic; indeed, it can teach us many things. And so prayer is critical. The serenity prayer still anchors me, accepting things I cannot change (like death and taxes), courage to change the things I can (like me and not Paul or our children), and having the wisdom to know the difference. Wisdom: She is Holy Spirit. She is experience. She is you! She is us!

The prophet Isaiah reminds me, “Surely it is God who saves me. I will trust in God and not be afraid.” In Women Who Do Too Much, the author writes, “As we face our fears, we will find a level of courage that we never knew existed, and everyday courage is all that we need. It takes courage to germinate and put forth new ideas. It takes courage to stand up for what we know in our hearts is right. Sometimes it even takes courage to take a nap.” (WWDTM.  Dec, 6)

It was through the grace of God, Jesus, and the power of the Holy Spirit that my journey began at birth; but it was set on fire at Trinity, in that community of love. For it is in the Church, that we are joined together and connected as the Body of Christ, and we are set free from our fears. Free to serve God. Faithfully, we can step up and step out, offering our gifts wherever we go and whatever we do. You and me. We are She. We are incredible women and we have stories to tell. Amen.