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
