March 30, 2025 - Fourth Sunday in Lent - A Rich Man Can't Cool HisTongue Due to His Self-Centeredness

The Parable of The Rich Man and Lazarus doesn't directly conjure up a fear of living in hell for me, rather it is about recognizing the responsibility to transform the world through love, justice, and solidarity with the oppressed, Precisely the "woke" ideology many are decrying today.

 

The rich man is not so much condemned for being wealthy but for ignoring the suffering of Lazarus was at his gate. His indifference mirrors how the privileged can be blind to the struggles of the marginalized today. Hell then becomes a consequence, not a punishment for how this man lived. There are news stories about arrests and attacks today going on in the United States that remind me of the chasm Abraham speaks of in this parable to the rich man, " Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us."

 

This chasm is a symbol that calls on Christians to be actively involved in helping the oppressed, rather than living in comfort while others suffer..So the story challenges economic inequality, racial injustice, and the neglect of the poor.

Lazarus, the powerless beggar, is elevated to Abraham’s side, while the rich man, once powerful, is now helpless. This aligns with Jesus’ repeated theme of the “great reversal” (Luke 1:52—Mary’s Magnificat: “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly”). 

Instead of focusing on eternal damnation, this parable serves as a warning, a wake-up call for the living. The "great chasm" isn't just in the afterlife—it exists right now in our world between the rich and the poor, the privileged and the oppressed.

The rich man never speaks to Lazarus. He asks Abraham to direct Lazarus as to what the rich man wants to have done. Oddly when the rich man wants to warn his five brothers, he asks Abraham to send Lazarus to go. The brothers would likely not even recognize that Lazarus died or had come back from the dead. The rich man simply demonstrates in how he treats Lazarus that the chasm here is the one that he had created in life.

In the parable Lazarus is neither spoken to nor does he speak. His most powerful presence in the parable precisely because he is named. He is the only named character that appears in a parable and it gives him power. The rich man is so self-absorbed he makes no attempt to speak to, much less apologize to, Lazarus for their respective life circumstances..

Those of us who are rich in this life can heed the clear warning. 

March 23, 2025 - Third Sunday in Lent - When Empire Centers on Fairness Rather Than Grace

In our national discourse we are often hearing complaints about fairness. There is so much grumbling about how certain people are being treated unfairly.

There are three stories in this week's narrative lectionary - The Parable of the Lost Sheep, The Parable of the Lost Coin and The Parable of the Prodigal Son.

Jesus is responding to the Pharisees and the scribes grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” 

 

There is commonality in these stories. Something or someone is lost and found again after extraordinary circumstances take place.

 

In each there is an invitation to an extravagant celebration after the finding. As Pastor Emillie noted with the The Parable of the Lost Coin in her sermon the rejoicing may even be more costly than the worth of the coin. The joy of the good that came about seems to be the point. 

 

The commonalities and the framing completely upend my previous readings of the parable. Together with the father twice proclaiming that his son who was dead is now alive again. I now see the prodigal son is a Christlike figure in the parable. The observation and judgement that the wealth was "squandered" is misleading, essentially an equivalent to the Pharisees grumbling about sinners. They take no joy in someone or something that was lost but is now found. 

 

This echoes what is found in other parables about the kingdom of heaven. These Pharisees would have complained that the sower acted too extravagantly in his spreading of the seed or that, in the Parable of the Vineyard Laborers, they would have grumbled that everyone getting paid the same wage wasn't fair. 

 

Yet the son is alive. The father, who was judged dead by the son when he asked for his inheritance, is also alive again as a father to his son. And the older brother grumbles about fairness over his father's grace. He accuses his prodigal brother of "devouring assets with prostitutes" when there is no way the eldest brother could have known that. Maybe we can empathize with the feelings of this brother, given what happens, but this is not a reflection of the kingdom of heaven.

 

So much of the parable snaps into place without the judgement. And why describe the severe famine if the younger brother's wealth had already been squandered in "dissolute living"?

 

Pastor Emillie identified with the older brother. It is easy for us to do. This reflects the world that we live in.

And finally, like the barren fig tree parable, here is another parable ending with no satisfying resolution if we accept the "dissolute" determination. We are left with a grumbling son, who was not even invited to the homecoming celebration of his brother. Will he take what his father tells him to heart? Will he then join in the communal rejoicing or not? Or is this older brother now someone who is lost and must now be found?

The context of the narrative lectionary provides during this Lenten season continues to astound me.

March 16, 2025 - Second Sunday in Lent - Come in the Name of the Lord and Return to the Lord

In Luke 13:6-9, Jesus tells a parable about an unfruitful fig tree, illustrating God's patience but also the urgency of repentance. The narrative lecitonary reading starts with a warning of repent, change your mind or rerutn to the Lord. This links with the parable and what happens to the unfruitful tree in the end is not disclosed.

Not knowing the fate of the tree is unsettling but totally in keeping with Jesus at this moment as he moves to Jerusalem. 

This is a parable where the Christ-like character is clear. Depending on the translation this is the vinedresser or the gardener. The Greek word translated as "let it be" in the Parable of the Barren Fig Tree (Luke 13:6-9) is ἄφες (aphes).  He responds to the owner’s command to cut down the unfruitful fig tree, saying:"Ἄφες αὐτὴν καὶ τοῦτο τὸ ἔτος" (Aphes autēn kai touto to etos), meaning "Let it alone this year also" or "Let it be for this year."

The verb ἄφες (aphes) comes from ἀφίημι (aphiēmi), which can mean "let go," "permit," "forgive," or "allow." In this context, it expresses the plea to allow more time for the tree to bear fruit before cutting it down.

This is the same word Jesus will say when he is on the cross and prays "Father forgive them for they know not what they do".which makes the lament over Jerusalem particularly poignant when Jesus muses "How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing  See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’ 

The ending of the film "Stranger than Fiction" reflects and engenders a similar grief of the watcher's heart when the main character of that story knows he must die to prevent the death of a child and he willingly walks to the death he decides must happen..  

This Lent continually tugs at the heart. 

March 11, 2025 - A Day of Change Anniversary and a Rememberance

Five years ago today the World Health Organization (WHO) declared COVID-19 a global pandemic. A year later, in 2021, after the death of more than 600,000 Americans, artist Suzanne Brennan Firstenberg organized a memorial to them on the National Mall. The image here is part of how she remembered and honored those who died.

Shortly after this declaration, on March 22, Pastor Ray passed away. 

We, as a nation, appear to have forgotten. or at least not collectively honored; the memory of those who died. Rather the wake of COVID brought horrible lies and conspiracy theories which grew and nurtured authoritarianism around the world. We saw a further fracturing of communities instead of to connection, empathy, and compassion. 

That said, this is the Creator blog entry posted on March 24th starts with Pastor Ray's Lent message for the March newsletter in remembrance.

Know that I am with you as you journey to the cross this Lent, and know that the Lord is with you, too. 

Pastor Ray McKechnie

This was how Pastor Ray closed his last letter in our March monthly newsletter.

On March 22, 2020, he passed away from a sudden heart attack.  Our community obviously feels this loss deeply and we continue to pray for Pastor Ray's family, especially for his husband, Eric.

The 23rd Psalm came to mind all day, both preceding and during Sunday's zoom meeting of the congregation. Particularly the words "He leadth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul" and yes, the King James translation is still the one I repeat in my heart. This was, coincidentally, the Psalm reading in Sunday's lectionary.

Yet I hardly felt I was being led beside the still waters on Sunday. These past few weeks have taken many off our sure footing as we began to learn how to cope with the coronavirus. Pastor Ray was beloved by so many of us and his sudden death was like being tossed in the rapids rather than by the still waters. Despite that feeling, yesterday also helped the understanding that God continues to lead this community, and those around us, to live life and love beside those still waters.

The Second Reading - Ephesians 5:14 "for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, "Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." picks up on Pastor Ray's last line of the newsletter. Both suggest another invitation or approach Jesus can give us. We can have faith that Christ can shine on us, in us, and through us even in our grief.

I felt this shining on us, in us, and through us was present in two musical highlights in worship when these readings came up three years ago. I doubt Annie, Vaune, and Kim, at that time, made their selection of  Jennifer Knapp's Peace primarily to support the sermon or the readings, and yet Peace did support and resonated with the sermon then, Pastor Ray's passing now, and readings. The lines "That I might hear a simple word" and "All tempests He will bind with a mighty word" was relevant to the gospel's story. The blind man first heard and then followed Jesus' word before he saw Jesus. Although it must have been coincidental, the lines in the verse "And when my enemies draw near / I pray that they will find / That I'm protected and secure" strongly echoed the sentiment in Psalm 23.

Today's First Reading is Samuel 16:7 - "But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the LORD does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart."

This verse captures one dimension of the difficulty encountered in the Gospel Lesson of The Blind Man Healed. Whatever truth we communicate about God publicly, we rely on outward appearance as a touchstone or point of reference. God's presence and attributes are not truly recognized through direct sensual evidence, even in our own hearts. We discover them through faith. The questions then become:

    How do we communicate about God and our faith to others? 
    What is the vocabulary that can used to share our God and faith experiences?

Look at Ephesians and how true that verse feels. Look at how Pastor Ray closed his letter. The words are a challenge to keep them true in a different way than he meant but that makes his words, perhaps, even more meaningful .

With Eric (his husband), we will work through a community response while we practice our not gathering. It is likely to be different, regarding a traditional gathering memorial or celebration of life anyway. What has not changed is this congregation's desire to live into the moment and resolutely search for and find our love-in-action response specifically for this time and in this place.

We shared our grief through our first zoom meeting on Sunday night and I have faith that we will find a way to collectively honor him and lovingly support his husband in this moment.

March 9, 2025 - First Sunday in Lent and Guest Musician Maria Olava Touches Our Hearts

María E. Olaya is a Colombian guitarist, music teacher, composer, and arranger, based in the Portland metro area. In 2024 her composition “Pasos en Si”/ Steps in B, reached the semifinals of the Eighth Guitar Composition Competition Fidelio, a world online contest for guitarists-composers organized by the Centro Integral de música y artes in Madrid, Spain. 

In her own words: “For me, music has always been a means for genuine connection with others, a means to experience transcendence and connect to our humanness.  I feel a deep sense of purpose helping other people find their own journey of inspiration and joy through music, and that desire fuels my creativity in regards to  both, performing and teaching.” 

In a moment of pure musical grace, the congregation was drawn into deep reflection as the warm, resonant tones of a nylon-string guitar filled the sanctuary. Our guest musician, Maria Olava, a very strong finger picking guitarist, offered a performance before the Children's Sermon and delivered a gentle rendition of Ábrete Corazón by Rosa Glove that was profoundly moving.

Each note was played with intention, every phrase imbued with an emotional depth. The delicate arpeggios and fluid transitions created a mesmerizing soundscape, inviting all who listened into a space of prayerful contemplation. It was more than music—it was worship in its purest form, a heartfelt offering to the divine.

As the melody unfolded, one could sense the spirit of devotion flowing through the strings, reaching everyone present. The balance of precision and passion made it clear: Olava is not just a musician but a vessel for something greater. Creator was blessed to witness such artistry, and the echoes of that performance will linger in our hearts.

In today's parable, The Good Samaritan,  a lawyer answers his own question about eternal life by saying "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.”

Unable to utter the word “Samaritan,” the lawyer could only respond to Jesus' question "Who was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers" by saying “The one who showed him mercy.”. This was completely unlike the music and lyrics of Ábrete Corazón which conjure up, inspire and yield to that love simultaneously.

Open up, heart
Open up, feeling
Open up, understanding
Set reason aside
And let the Sun shine
Hidden within you
Open up, ancient memory
Hidden in the earth in the plants,
in the air
Remember what you learned
Underwater, under fire
Long ago
It's time now, it's now
Open up, heart And remember how love heals
How the spirit cures How the tree blossoms
And life endures

March 5, 2025 - Ash Wednesday - Death Connects All of Us Made From Dust or Clay

Ash Wednesday's service was extraordinary. My faith was not just believed during worship but felt. Past Ash Wednesdays have sometimes been primarily rituals to participate in for me. 

Tonight's service was an encounter and I wasn't in person for the service but participated by Zoom. Creator's shared sanctuary became a sacred space where our hearts beat in unison with the rhythm of the felt divine presence.

As usual, this worship was recorded. For many the readings, Pastor Emillie's reflection, and the imposition of ashes may have been routine. What I felt, however, was orchestrated by the day's events which evoked experiences that have occurred over the past few months.

My needing to engage with mortality differently was made more real last year in October when my wife's younger sister died from cancer. Attending her funeral cemetery arrangements were arranged, including where my wife and I will be buried. 

One of my congregational compatriots, Shirley, well beloved by the congregation and choir, passed at the same time. Another former Creator member, Scott, who was unpretentious and radiant friend; passed close to the same time. Aspects of life's impermanence and the finality of death struck our congregational heart.

And a few weeks back I read a poetry book by sister's husband, Bill Davies, called Oldmanhood.  The title alone made me contemplate slipping, in life and health, from manhood into oldmanhood. I recognize I now reside in a neighborhood where life, health, annuity and continued retirement decisions all need to be made more urgently. Also I received a package on Wednesday morning from a friend who wrote about a road trip where he was taking his late wife's urn along back with him. Ash Wednesday's overwhelming and humbling truths made real.

This is also a season for the ongoing disagreements over truth and the accusation the recent administration has made against Lutherans (among others). This made me think of Gimme Some Truth that John Lennon sang in 1970 "I've had enough of reading things by neurotic, psychotic pig headed politicians. All I want is the truth, just gimme some truth" Now I wonder if I can handle all the inconvenient truths of this new era seen from new perspectives.

For over a month our Creator Wednesday Bible Night Conversations has anticipated the Sunday Narrative lectionary readings. The Gospel reading was the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Reading this on Ash Wednesday changed the framing context of the parable. Thinking that Jesus has turned his face to Jerusalem and chooses to start with "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and took off, leaving him half dead."

This changed who this parable was about for me. The man who fell into the hands of robbers is the Christ figure. As we discussed this, one participant expressed her desire for a satisfying ending to the Samaritan parable. Where the ultimate fate of the man who was helped is given. Certainly one ending to Christ's story is not satisfying either. 

Anyway, because of the timings of both the Bible Night Conversation and the service, I chose to attend via Zoom. Pastor Emillie's reflection began with the reminder that we all will die. Death connects us all in this way, yet it is so hard in this particular season to recognize that connection. 

"Who are our neighbors?" Pastor Emille asked. Sometimes our neighbors are immigrants who don't look like us that are being pulled out of our country. Sometimes our neighbors are the ones taking those immigrants and labeling them criminals. Sometimes they are those sitting next to us in church and sometimes they are the ones who are on the street, hungry and homeless. Through all of it death is the great connector. When denying that basic fact and grabbing power to make ourselves greater, we have scripture to remind us that finally we are dust and to dust we shall return

The imposition of ashes in the service nodded to both past tradition and innovation reaching for more meaning. Those gathered received the familiar ash cross on their foreheads but the cross was made by someone else in the congregation rather than the pastor alone. The moment was immersive, participatory, and deeply personal for me, even over zoom. Matt's music didn’t just fill the room—it moved through me, The song, written by his friend, captured the moment perfectly.

Creator's congregation often embrace the full spectrum of human experience—joy and sorrow, doubt and conviction, reverence and celebration. It is a community where all are welcome, where questions are honored, and where the sacred is encountered in both the ecstatic and the everyday.

Here, faith is not just something to be understood—it is something that is lived.

An Apology to Canada Regarding Tariffs

 As Joni Mitchell once sang in A Case of You "You are in my blood like holy wine".

We owe you an apology. Truly.

You deserve better. The world deserves better.

As people of faith, we believe that being a good neighbor is not just a social contract—it’s a spiritual calling. Across traditions, we are reminded to care for those around us. Jesus told us that loving our neighbor is the greatest commandment, second only to loving God. The Hebrew Scriptures call us to welcome the stranger and seek the welfare of our communities. In Islam, the Prophet Muhammad taught, “He is not a believer whose neighbor does not feel safe from his harm.” And we know you are not responsible for American fentanyl deaths.

You have been the kind of neighbor we all hope for—steady, kind, and generous. You have stood by us in times of crisis, shared in our joys and sorrows, and reminded us what friendship between nations can look like. And yet, our government has chosen conflict over cooperation, self-interest over partnership. A 25% tariff on Canadian goods is not just bad economics—it’s bad faith. It undermines the trust and goodwill that has long defined our relationship.

Being a good neighbor is about more than proximity—it’s about posture. It’s about choosing relationship over rivalry, generosity over greed, and cooperation over control. It’s about recognizing that our well-being is tied up with one another’s. No border, no policy, no tariff can change that fundamental truth.

As people of faith, we are called to love our neighbors and to act with integrity and fairness in all things. Trade policies should reflect these values—promoting cooperation rather than division, mutual benefit rather than hardship. We lament that these tariffs have instead created unnecessary tension, affecting workers, businesses, and communities on both sides of the border.

You know that many Americans, including those of us in the faith community, oppose actions that disrupt our shared prosperity and unity. We pray for a future where our nations work together in the spirit of justice and compassion, building bridges rather than barriers.

The great theologian Howard Thurman wrote, “There is something in every one of us that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in ourselves… and if I hear the genuine in me, I can hear it in you.” To be a good neighbor, we must listen for the genuine in one another. We must resist the forces that seek to divide us and instead build bridges of understanding and solidarity. We appreciate and applaud Justin Trudeau's direct message to the American people.

So, to our Canadian friends: We see you. We honor you. We want to stay a good, global neighbor. While the actions of those in power may not reflect it, remember that many of us stand with you in friendship and gratitude.

We are in this together with love and humility