In his recent sermon, Rev. Jack McNary reminded us how important prayer is. He said that the need to pray comes most often in the darkest of nights, or the direst of circumstances. And that while God already knows what's in our hearts, our taking the time to think through our worries ... our wants ... our cares ... is good for us. We do this just as much for our own benefit as for God's.
Sometimes it feels awkward to pray. Am I deserving enough? Am I humble enough? How will I feel if what I pray for doesn't materialize? And why in the world am I talking to an invisible being? Putting those thoughts aside—and focusing on a conversation with God—can be oh, so hard. The best we can do is to to be honest with ourselves and be ready to listen. Answered prayers don't usually appear like lightning flashes from heaven, but rather in small, measured bits of information and insight that come in unexpected ways. Often it can be quite a while before we understand and recognize an "aha" moment as an answered prayer.
The very act of praying changes us. And through us, changes everything.
... being kind.
After a contentious and sometimes vengeful election campaign, it's good to know there is such a thing as World Kindness Day. That happens tomorrow—November 13—serving "as a reminder of the positive impact that kindness can have on individuals, communities, and the world at large. It encourages people to perform intentional acts of kindness and foster a culture of compassion and generosity." What a relief to have fo the focus shifted—for one day, at least—away from divisiveness and toward camaraderie.
Kindness doesn't cost anything, only the sacrifice of swallowing insults you'd really like to hurl at the paper carrier who (again) threw your Sacramento Bee under the car. Kindness doesn't hurt anything either, except maybe your pride when you say, in all sincerity, "I'm sorry" after you are late for a coffee date.
Quite a few of us are smarting because our votes were not enough or the neighbors—whom we thought were such nice people—showed their true colors in posting signs for a candidate we did not like. (Won't be sitting by them at the next block party. Wait, that's not very kind.) How difficult it is to go about everyday life knowing others don't embrace the same opinions. Immigration. Homelessness. Climate change. Government infrastructure. Judicial appointments. These are only a few of the many hot topics that will be the talk of family gatherings this winter. Will Uncle Charlie stomp angrily out of the room when you mention same-sex marriage at the dinner table? Will your book club buddy "unfollow" you on social media because you argue against deportation of undocumented workers? Situations like this are kind ... of hard.
A character in TV's M*A*S*H series once said, "It's nice to be nice ... to the nice." And it is. It's not so nice to be nice to those we feel are full of prejudice or hate toward others. How do we live by our Christian principles—which tell us to stand up to oppressors and bullies—and yet also, as Jesus instructed us, to "love our enemies?"
As Jim Guida concluded his sermon last Sunday, he said that one thing is definitely needed for us to be able to love unconditionally: God's grace. It's through that amazing grace we will find ourselves available for civil conversation, for peaceful resolution to conflict, and for forgiveness. Let's practice kindness until we get really good at it.
... refusing to accept hate-fueled talk as “the norm”
Another election day is upon us. Many of us feel tense, anxious about the outcome: Will "our" candidates win? Will "our" ballot issues succeed? In a turbulent campaign year such as this—with the American people keenly divided over universal concerns—a distressing level of disrespect (and let's be honest—hatred) has surfaced.
We know there are always folks on the fringe just waiting to get their say; the Southern Poverty Law Center recently reported that 117 hate groups were being tracked in California alone. But even more scary than the organized groups is this: it might be your very own neighbors and friends who are acting out. The very people you say "hi" to each day as you pick up your mail might believe in conspiracy theories ... or secretly wish that immigrants would "go back where they came from" ... or pepper their social media with hostile comments intended to insult and hurt.
One of us at Bethany, while trying to get into a turn lane, became stuck amidst a national candidate's flag-waving truck parade on Elk Grove Boulevard. Horns honking, signs hoisted, people from her neighborhood hollering out of their SUV windows ... you'd think this would be a joy-filled experience. Instead it was terrifying. The mood of the drivers was sharp-edged and rude, with a sense of entitlement and self-endowed power permeating the scene. This was not a celebration but a calculated warning to everybody who did not share the group's beliefs. "I felt very threatened," she said, still shaking an hour later.
How do we deal with those who alarm us with their grandstanding and generalizations and ignorant exclusionary rhetoric? The Apostle Paul had a lot of experience dealing with enemies. He shared how important it is to not let the prospect of an "enemy" overpower or paralyze us ... but to regard these encounters as opportunities to tell people that their words offend and are not based on fact. To pray for change in others' attitudes and behaviors. To help them see the light of Christ and respond to it in loving ways. Paul knew this is not easy to do. But in his letters to followers, he counseled them—and us today—to not shrink from that which overwhelms and frightens ... and to have faith that God will never leave us.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... God's plan, not ours.
There's a humorous saying: "If you want God to laugh, tell Him your plans." Or as Allen Saunders (echoed by John Lennon a few decades later) said, "Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans."
Soon the holiday season will be upon us. We'll be making lists, preparing our homes and undertaking all sorts of tasks in readiness for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Most of these activities are so familiar to us that we can practically do them with our eyes closed. But still, the best of intentions go astray. The wrapping paper you run out of ... the batch of cookies that burns. One of us at church last year even sprained her thumb while hand-writing gift tags. As the character Roseanne Roseannadanna played by Gilda Radner on Saturday Night Live used to bemoan, "It's always something."
Our own goals are just that: our own. They are based on our own ambitions and our own visions of what the future should look like. The "right" ugly Christmas sweater will surely brighten that party. The "right" turkey stuffing will really make it a meal worth remembering. We are the ones deciding what is "right." Perhaps, though, God has something else in mind?
About a decade ago, one Bethany member carefully measured, mixed and rolled crusts to create several delicious-looking pumpkin pies. Pies which the family dog came along and gobbled down when her back was turned. (Who knew he could reach the counter?!) Panic ensued. An alternate crust-less recipe was quickly cobbled together and guests enjoyed the new version every bit as much.
In Proverbs 2:6 we read, "All the ways of a man are pure in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the spirit.” To each of us our own ideas are the best. Yet how can we know if what we wish for is God's will? Praying helps, as well as identifying what the issues at hand really are. It's also helpful to discern just who or what exactly is involved: who or what benefits? who or what is sacrificed? What would Jesus say if he was right here, right now?
There are usually no easy answers to our questions. We must make the time to think everything through, hear others' input ... and—hardest of all—be willing to recognize what God is telling us. As creative and positive as we are, surrendering our own pet solutions and "I know what's best" attitudes is incredibly hard. Listening for God's firm but loving direction is key. And it helps us accept when things don't go as we anticipated.
Says author Erik Larson, "Man plans. God laughs."
And sometimes the people eat a different pie.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... turning pain into gain.
Back in the 1970s, Bethany's choir performed a pop-rock oratorio entitled Lightshine. Composed by Buryl Red and Grace Hawthorne, the musical featured a song which has remained for years in the minds of those who sang it.
That song—"Would You"—posed some interesting questions, among them:
Would you cherish loving arms,
if you’d never shed a tear?
Would you welcome going home,
if you’d never been away?
Would you treasure guiding hands
if you’d never been alone?
Would you value having hope,
if you’d never known despair?
Would you treasure being safe,
if you’d never lost your way?
Would you cherish gentle words,
if you’d never been afraid?
We as individuals and a congregation—and as God's children—have all overcome myriad adverse circumstances. We wish life would just tick along nicely, with no difficult lessons to be learned and no grief or angst to be felt. Someone at Bethany remembers interrupting a friend as he began advising, "When life gives you lemons..." Her tart response was, "I'm tired of making lemonade!"
In his book "The Wounded Healer," Father Henri Nouwen says, "The great illusion of leadership is to think that man can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there.” Our painful experiences can help mold us even more into the people God desires us to be ... people in a position to feed and comfort those who are poor in spirit.
As we approach the season of Thanksgiving, let's recall our blessings—and think of ways we can, in turn, be a blessing to others.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
P.S. You can listen to the title song "Lightshine" here. It's a bit dated in style, but you'll no doubt find it as inspiring as Bethany's congregation did back in the late '70s. Enjoy!
… looking for the small.
A friend of Bethany, someone who attended the church as a teen, is currently off enjoying the trip of his dreams. A vacation, he said, that had long been on his personal bucket list.
Jim is an engineer and—like most of his ilk—rhapsodizes over things that are (1) sort of broken and might be fix-able; (2) horribly broken but good to have on hand for spare parts; (3) in need of solutions and problem-solving (such as how to make new stuff out of broken stuff); and (4) things that are, well, just perfectly constructed and need nothing but to be admired. On this vacation, he was on a mission to achieve #4: To see, and travel through, and marvel at one of the greatest engineering feats on Earth—the Panama Canal. He was counting on being wowed and, as the cruise ship voyaged onward, he certainly was.
What he didn’t anticipate was that he would, in turn, wow someone else. Stepping off the ship later that day, he saw a man looking at him. Goggling at him. The man, a taxi driver, at once stopped trying to sell Jim on a touristy ride around the small village. He instead brought out his cell phone and asked for a selfie. “Los Papá Noel!” he exclaimed. Pointing to Jim’s shorts, sandals, straw hat and violently colorful Hawaiian shirt, the man said, “On vacation!” The taxi driver gestured again—this time waving at Jim’s very long white beard. He wanted a picture of—you guessed it—"Santa Claus" on vacation. He probably would have packed Jim into the car and driven off with him to the local school to show his children … but it was determined that a photo with “Santa Clós” would suffice. Jim graciously complied and made a new friend for life. Imagine the excitement of the kids when they saw that photo. They’ll probably never forget the day their Papi met and actually spoke with Santa. Jim figures he is by now Scotch-taped 'til infinity to the family’s kitchen cabinet, or stapled to the “Show and Tell” bulletin board in a cheerful Panamanian classroom. What a large, long-lasting legacy to come out of such a modest meeting.
It’s usually the big ticket items—like sky diving or seeing the Lincoln Memorial up close—that gain traction, as they say in PR talk. Yet it’s the little unexpected moments that can stay with us forever. Sweet moments that help define us and remind us of what’s really important in our lives. Maybe we should put ourselves on high alert so we recognize these times when they come along. Maybe in addition to making bucket lists, we can be filling our buckets. With the small, humble, occurrences that nourish and replenish us and give us reason to be glad.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... healing.
First, the car air conditioning goes out (in 105° summer heat). Then the refrigerator starts making noises and does not feel as chilly as it should. Then the crown that the dentist so painstakingly installed meets its match with a gooey gummy bear.
It's natural to curse and whine when things go wrong. To feel slighted if a pal doesn't call back or if a neighbor again parks blocking your driveway. To scream at that guy in the fast lane who is slowing down traffic. To shriek when your favorite coffee mug shatters tragically on the kitchen floor. And to weep when a late-night phone call relays news of a beloved friend's death.
Elsewhere—like in the war-torn Middle East, Ukraine and the Sudan, and Hurricane Helene-stricken areas—these concerns probably would be considered trivial. Knowing this makes us feel guilty. Yet last Sunday, Rev. Stan Henderson reminded us that God cares for all, and all things, and all circumstances. "God's eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me." (Matthew 6 25:26) Jesus no doubt chose the sparrow for his example because it is among the most common and humble of birds—just as we, God's people, are, well, just normal kinds of folk. Our individual worries—whether fleeting or ongoing, tiny or seemingly insurmountable—mean something to our Maker. Sometimes it takes courage to believe that we are worth God's attention.
Discounting our own sorrows, anger, frustration and grief doesn't make world conditions any better. Frankly, the more we are able are to come to grips with our own human frailty—and trust that God can heal, can help mend—the more able we are to give our hearts to others. To reach out to those in need. To pray and take action whenever possible to alleviate pain and suffering whenever and wherever we are witness to it.
The sparrow is one of the most widespread and abundant songbirds in the world, resilient and adaptable to its environment. It may be small, but in the eyes of God it is mighty, indeed. Just as we—and our beautiful, promise-filled potential as God's children—are.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
—Romans 15:13
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... sharing the wonder.
Imagine getting into a car … with no one behind the steering wheel. Traveling down city streets, halting quite nicely at red lights, merging smoothly into crowded lanes and waiting for crossing pedestrians … with no collisions (nor even any close calls). A couple of Bethany folks recently dared to try out one of the new driverless cabs in Scottsdale, Arizona, and were astounded at the experience.
The hired vehicle arrived right on time and in just the right place, lights flashing a welcome. Once the doors automatically closed and seatbelts clicked, everything shifted into “trust mode.” There was nothing to do but, well, go along for the ride. There was no time to worry or dwell too heavily on what could go wrong. Instead, for the passengers, the sheer joy of this novel mode of transport overcame doubt and fear. The car—if it could talk—would have exclaimed over the laughter of the two customers who were clearly overcome with giddiness, wanting to shout out the car windows (if only they could figure out how to operate them): “This is amazing! You should try it!”
The woman Jesus met at the well was similarly bemused and excited. She was willing to hear what he told her … to suspend disbelief and have her eyes opened to a new way of thinking. “Give me this living water!” she told him, full of awe and wonder at his promise of life everlasting. She was eager to share her experience with others.
In what ways might we, too, shake off our doubts and be unafraid to try something new? And to be unafraid to live out our faith in a very public, very amazing way?
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... letting God prepare us.
As you read this message in 90+ degree Sacramento weather, the person who wrote it is probably sitting in unrelenting rain at Manzanita Lake. Despite the prediction of lousy weather, she was heading up north to the mountains Sunday morning ... with this note scheduled to be "auto-sent" from the home computer on Tuesday. Now, a lot can happen between Sunday and Tuesday, so it's kind of a leap of faith to prepare something so far in advance. We can only hope that the information in this newsletter stays the same. Someone in our congregation (whose name won't be mentioned; initials are J.G.) likes to joke about the aftermath of spontaneous actions: "It's easier to seek forgiveness than permission." In that vein, we can probably accept that not everything can be planned ... and not everything planned turns out as, ahem, planned.
Perhaps the unpredictable nature of our lives keeps us on our toes. At the very least, our brain cells keep regenerating from the stimulation brought about by change. And our emotions get a good workout, too, when we realize we have come smack up against something unexpected. No milk for your morning coffee? A light rail train is stuck on the tracks and you'll be late for church? Lost the car keys/phone/wallet (again)? We scream and holler and wail in frustration, all the while trying to figure out alternatives. Oh, if only life was as reliable as the forecasts of meteorologists (and sometimes those guys get it wrong, too).
The old Scout motto "Be Prepared" is a good one; it reminds that we owe it to ourselves and others (and to God) to be capable and confident people—problem-solvers and peace-makers in a chaotic and crazy world. And to take a raincoat. Being prepared, though, is just that: having the tools and techniques to cope with new or different circumstances. It doesn't necessarily mean that we embrace what is happening, nor that it is we who are even in control. We might, for example, "be prepared" for a drought, when instead the heavens unleash a torrent and we end up treading floodwaters. It's just not fair! (Insert: yet more screaming, hollering and wailing.)
The bible tells us that there is a time, and a purpose, for everything. This is hard to understand when it seems things aren't going our way, when change is inevitable, when solutions aren't immediately obvious. (Or—as it often happens—when solutions are obvious to you, no one else "gets it" and you feel alone or angry or upset.) Self-reliant and resilient we may be, but we have to face the fact that it's not what we want—but what God wants for us—that is going to happen. Perhaps it's God who is doing the preparing.
Our hearts could sure use that.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... listening.
Remember this sign? It's one of hundreds Jim Guida created for the benefit of those driving by Bethany. Wonder how many of us church-goers noticed it at the time ...
We sure needed reminding of this important message after last Sunday's worship service, when we gathered for another of our "focus meetings" on Bethany's future. As we discussed management of our church building, in particular, tempers started flaring ... miscommunication reached a height ... and then a few impassioned voices pointed out that we share a common purpose: ministry. And that any decisions about our church should be based on that—first and foremost.
Some of us are already accepting that Bethany's congregation is an aging one, unable to muster sufficient money and volunteers to keep our building going. Others are still trying to figure out ways we can maintain the building on our own. And some are frustrated, or past caring, and have already "checked out" of the church, no longer attending. We miss them and their part of the conversation.
Wherever each of us is on the road to acceptance—for that is the end stage of the grief process—we owe it to each other to listen with respect and try to understand what is really being meant when people open their hearts to us. It's hard to do. But as Christians, we must do our best.
Something to ponder in the week ahead:
"An intelligent heart acquires knowledge, and the ear of the wise seeks knowledge." —Proverbs 18:15
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... being that one person.
Several of us went to the movies on Monday. We saw the new Christian film "The Forge," which focused on discipling. NOT discipline—although that does happen to be the root origin of "disciple." (Discipline comes from discipulus, the Latin word for student.) Through this movie we learned how one's life can be influenced through the attention and "shepherding" of someone who wholeheartedly believes in Christ. We witnessed the young man in the story blossoming as he began to find his way as a Christian. And we saw the unfailing strength of those who prayed for him to succeed.
It may "take a village" (as the saying goes) to effect positive change ... but often it can simply take the commitment and devotion of a single individual.
In the words of the evangelist Dwight L. Moody, "Small numbers make no difference to God. There is nothing small if God is in it."
We should never underestimate the power each one of us has within to make a difference in the world!
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... thin spaces.
At this past weekend's church retreat, we talked about "thin places" ... those spaces in our world where we feel close to God. Zephyr Point Presbyterian Conference Center is—for many—one such place. With beautiful Lake Tahoe as a setting, surrounded by ages-old granite boulders and immensely tall pine trees, Zephyr Point has captured the hearts and souls of thousands who have visited it since its start 100 years ago. We are truly grateful and fortunate to have such a treasure in our own backyard (well, a mere two-hour drive away).
Still, as we discussed at the retreat, there are places like this all around us; if not already in existence, then waiting for us to create for ourselves. Perhaps there's a park nearby, or a special route you take while walking your dog. Or a community garden or local nature preserve. Is there a corner in your backyard you can transform into a quiet spot for reading scripture? Or a chair in your living room that you could designate for simply sitting and contemplating? Sometimes just having a mutually understood signal among your household that "I am now entering a sacred space" is enough to steady yourself and focus; check out the fun story written in 1955 by Ruth Bell Graham for Guideposts magazine. Get out your apron!
It might seem that seeking out or creating a "thin space" ... and visiting it regularly ... is just adding more activity to our already busy lives. But putting God first, and letting other things fall into place can really work. That "first" thing is eloquently expressed in Melissa Jean's vocal rendition of Psalm 27: "One thing that I desire from the Lord: that one thing will I seek for. That I may dwell in His house, and inquire in His temple; and behold the beauty of the Lord."
The Lord's house, and its promises of joy, security, uncompromising answers and profound acceptance, can be found not just in church on Sunday morning but at any time and in any place. Look around and discover where you best hear and respond to God. And make that your own "thin place."
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... Christ moments.
Meeting again yesterday morning was the "Monday Group" ... Bethany's biweekly gathering of 10 or so individuals who find a lot in common despite owning distinctly different opinions and viewpoints. More and more, participants are opening up to each other—sharing dreams, disappointments, challenges and sorrows. We may have greeted each other months (or years) at Sunday morning worship services. Maybe sent (or received) the occasional birthday or "get well" card. Perhaps even served together on a committee or project. We may have thought we knew each other ... then along came the Monday Group and we discovered ... we really didn't. Not deeply, that is.
But now, by having met together for about a year, it seems natural to talk through what's troubling us, to truly listen to one another .. even to take issue with something somebody said or did that bothers us. These are all "Christ moments"—times we are asked to overlook what separates us and be assured of God's grace as we seek to do His will. Who would have thought that such intimacy and connection could evolve from something as basic as a book-and-Bible-study kind of activity?
Maybe it's not so surprising that this regular little gathering kind of defines what Bethany—now in its 110th year as a church—has come to: be a caring community that is both grounded in the past and yet not afraid to take risks. When we use our collective memories, honoring what we as a congregation have achieved and meant to so many over the decades, we renew ourselves as God's people. And renewal can lead to confidence and the willingness to look at everything through new eyes. Sometimes we might not like what we see. Sometimes we are afraid of what we might see. During these Christ moments, we are asked not just for our loving attention to God, but our patience as well. Like our relationships with one another, there is hidden depth waiting to be discovered.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
… miracles.
Less than 90 miles north of us, the world is turning upside down for families and communities. Since its start (due to arson) in Chico last Wednesday the Park Fire now has encompassed 386,764 acres in four counties. Look at the combined effort it is taking to bring this disaster under control:
Several former (from the '70s) Bethany youth group members (Jim Crandell, David Betts and Steve Betts) have been using technology resources and professional contacts to follow the advance of the Park Fire, enabling Bethany's Prayer Team to direct prayers to affected individuals and neighborhoods. To these guys, monitoring the emergency channels is not just a hobby; for one of them (Steve, son of late Bethany member Bob Betts and brother of Cathy Betts Sapunor), it's been a gripping and tense week as his own home is within a quarter mile of where fire crews battled the blaze on Highway 32. Evacuated to Chico with his wife, three dogs and a cat (and all the "important" stuff that could be carried in their trailer), retired engineer Steve waited and watched (remotely) as the skills of all the fire fighting experts were put into play. In similar circumstances were several family members of Howard McMackin, whose properties were also threatened.
Bethany's Prayer Team prayed around the clock for a successful outcome. And for the safety of the fire fighters risking their lives. When the fire jumped Highway 32 on Thursday night, the situation looked grim. "I've already made peace with the house being gone, but maybe I'll be surprised," said Steve. Bethany's "prayer warriors" did not let up. And today Steve's wife Ali was able to write a message—as they prepared to return to the home miraculously saved by firefighters (a helicopter had even dropped water in their backyard to extinguish a "hot spot")—to say "thank you" to all who have been praying. "Thanks for the love," she says.
No firefighters' lives have been lost and the fire is nearly 18% controlled. Considering that just a day or so ago, the fire was 0% controlled, that's saying something. And it is amazing how these teams of fire experts have been able to come together—most not knowing each other until their arrival on the scene—and apply their collective skills and talents. Moreover, behind the scenes, community volunteers have stepped up to provide emergency housing for displaced residents and safe pastured space for large animals (horses and cattle, for example) which had to be evacuated. It's something to marvel at: how does everybody DO this on a moment's notice? How is everything coordinated so quickly and so well? Surely, as the Park Fire rages on, the hand of God is upon everybody and everything.
When we pray, miracles happen. We should look for them in not only big "inferno" situations but also in the small, humble circumstances of the everyday. In the words of Jesus, as recorded in Mark 9: 23, "Everything is possible for one who believes."
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... helpers.
Bethany has experienced another loss among its church family. Dolores McMackin passed away this evening after spending a week in the hospital and rehab trying to recover from injuries associated with a fall. As recently as a couple of days ago, when church members visited her, she was in good spirits and had retained her sparkling (and wicked) sense of humor. Folks joked with her about her "unexpected vacation" away from household chores and urged her to take it easy. She agreed that she deserved the break ... but wished she hadn't had to break several ribs to earn it. Word about a memorial service will come soon ... in the meantime, please remember husband Howard, daughter Janna and son Donald (and their spouses and children) in your prayers.
On a related note ... Howard has been coming to church to make coffee nearly every Sunday morning, even while Dolores was home-bound or hospitalized. This couple, who celebrated their 68th anniversary on June 10, have truly been the backbone of Bethany's Fellowship Commission for the past two decades. When thinking of their efforts over the years to make Bethany's coffee hour and social events lovely and meaningful times for everybody, perhaps you'll agree that the apostle Paul's words to the fledgling Christian community in Colossae come to mind:
“And whatever you do,
in word or deed,
do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus,
giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
This kind of dedication might be considered rare ... and yet, at Bethany, we have many who give generously of themselves on a regular basis to help enrich the lives of others. As Mister Rogers so famously said, in a message to children who might be upset or anxious or grief-stricken, "Look for the helpers." Just as we are secure in the knowledge that God will be with us ... to the end of the age ... we can take comfort in remembering that even in this small congregation, we do not lack the resources to take care of each other. Look for the helpers. Get inspired and be energized by them. Maybe even become one?
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... honest talk about violence.
Summer should be a time of carefree fun ... a time of picnics and pools, families and friends. And, of course, this being an election year, also a time for expressing political views and sharing visions for the future. Sadly, this past weekend showed that our safety when gathering at public events is something we can no longer take for granted. Are we all now at risk simply by leaving our homes?
The truth, in fact, is that violent crime in the U.S. is actually on the decline. Has been for several years. So why do we feel so scared and vulnerable? Possibly because in this digital era, news travels so fast ... and bad news always grabs the biggest headlines. And also maybe because we fear what is out of our hands. We can wear seatbelts, for example, but we cannot control the inattentive driver in the next lane. We don't let this stop us from dashing to the store to pick up a carton of milk. Yet the odds of being in a traffic accident are greater than being a victim of violent crime (which California sources estimate is one victim per 20,000 persons).
Experts say our anxiety and worry probably stem from our perception that "crime is out there, waiting to get us." Will we ever get anything done, or go anywhere, if we constantly feel this way?
It's hard to believe that everything is going to be okay when the world feels like it's falling apart. Beyond taking the usual safety precautions (Don't park in unlit areas! Lock your car!) it seems there's not much else we can do. And that's when God comes into the picture, asking—no, expecting—us to trust him to watch over us. Moreover, he asks—no, demands—that we go further and step in (and speak up) to promote justice and peacemaking. Those are things we can do. And when we can do something, anything, we cease feeling like victims. It takes courage to stay engaged in the real world. Now is the time to remember that God's unsurpassed love and faith in us make that happen.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... responding in new ways.
The heat wave continues! Fortunately, temperatures are predicted to drop soon. In the meantime, we console ourselves with the sure knowledge that "this, too, shall pass." Believe it or not, this expression is not from scripture. But here's something appropriate that is:
“All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.”
While there may truly be nothing "new" under the sun, there is always something new possible within us ... something shaping and guiding us and causing us to respond in new new ways as God's people. Take, for example, the "cooling center" ministry. It was first organized by Jim Guida during the September 2022 heat crisis (when Sacramento's temperature reached the historical high of 116 degrees). Last week this outreach effort was reactivated by elder Susan Just, providing solace and (air conditioned) comfort to those in need. She and Mike Sutton, joined by other Bethany volunteers, served as hosts Monday-Friday ... and even sought out unhoused members of the public to come in to rest and replenish themselves. This project continues Monday-Tuesday this week.
Have you got an idea of how Bethany can be of service in our community? Has your life at Bethany brought about new ways of thinking, being and doing? Be sure to share these thoughts at the next "focus group" gathering after the worship service on Sunday, July 21.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... breaking the silence.
... the bigger boat.
There was much worldwide jubilation when 2020 crossed over into 2021. “What an awful year,” I heard countless people exclaim. “So glad to be rid of it.”
It was—for me—a hard New Year’s Eve to sit through, let alone celebrate. At our house, no banging of pots and hollering joyfully out the front door, just a perfunctory toast and off to bed. Where I lay awake for hours worrying about 2021. The party boat set sail without me. .
A lot of folks are looking to 2021 as a do-over of 2020. Quite a few have said they’d like to pretend 2020 didn’t even happen. I can understand, but still … I wonder what makes us think 2021 is going to be any better than its predecessor?
I have to bite my lip and appear cheerful when I just know something dreadful lurks below, waiting to surprise and attack. A new strain of COVID-19? Yep. Another tier of lock-downs? Sure thing. Vaccines that might have side effects? Right.
The promotional tag for filmmaker Stephen Spielberg’s 1975 mega-hit “Jaws” read, “You’ll never go in the water again.” The terror, it implied, was limited solely to the ocean. Good old terra firma was safe! I liked that idea. I felt good about that idea. Just stay away from the seashore. Easy peasy.
But today, even being on land isn’t without risk. Worse than a big sea predator—which at least might have a fin sticking up out of the waves to warn you—is the ever-abounding threat of disease. That, to me, is scarier than any fish.
You’ll recall that the heroic sheriff in “Jaws” decides to track down and destroy the threat—just as thousands of epidemiologists and chemists and researchers around the globe are doing right now. Despite all the merry-making that “2020 is history,” the fin continues to circle; the COVID-19 shark is hungry.
While it’s always the right time to embrace new beginnings—and a new year is no exception—we should remember as we enter 2021 to partner our partying with prayer.
Pray as hard and with as much dedication as our life-savers are dedicating to us.
Pray for health and well-being of those who care for others, for those we love and those everywhere who are at risk.
Pray to accept our limitations and yet still live to our fullest capacity.
Actor Roy Scheider, as the sheriff in “Jaws,” had an extremely close-up encounter with the enemy and —in true deadpan delivery—remarked to his hired captain, “We’re going to need a bigger boat.”
Will that bigger boat for you be the tropical cruise you were forced by the pandemic to cancel? Doubtful. Will it offer buffet dinners and nightly dancing and fun shore excursions? Nope. But maybe it will consist of building stronger relationships with loved ones … growing a sense of comfort in times of anxiety … of glimpsing and seizing upon opportunities for enrichment and growth. Whatever ship you sail in 2021, God will be at the helm navigating the tricky waters.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
... sitting a while at the manger.
But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” (Luke 10:40)
Martha was focused on her “to do” list. Her sister Mary was fully aware of all that had to be done, but she put that aside to spend time with Jesus.
At Christmas time, it’s all too easy to become a Martha, caught up in our long “to do” list. Too often, we start focusing on all we want to get done and start resenting that others don’t help us.
Many hands may make the work lighter, but they won’t solve the underlying problem.
What we need isn’t more human help. What we need is more of Jesus. Only he can give us the peace of mind and heart that we crave.
At Christmas, we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ who came to bring us peace. But he won’t force that peace on you—like Mary, you have to seek it out.
Take time this Christmas to sit a while at the manger. Contemplate what Jesus means to you, and listen to what he has to say. Take time to focus on him instead of on your chores and lists.
Chores are temporary. The peace you get from a relationship with Jesus is everlasting.
—Christine Sackey
