by Jill Fandrich

Ashes. Dirt. Bread. Crumbs. Stones. Water. Oil. Coins. Wind.

We can find God in these ordinary things.

We often think our faith develops in mountaintop moments of great glory and revelation. Or we associate God with the beauty of magnificent cathedrals, sun drenched stained glass, and silver chalices. We think we have to be in a holy place to find God. But God is with us in the every day, and this Lent we are discovering how.

Every year, Westminster Church offers a Lenten Soup & Study series, gathering for a simple meal on Wednesday evenings and reflecting on how we find God in our lives. Past years have explored finding God in music, service, traditions, art, meditation, science, and prayer. Because we cannot gather in person, we are holding this year’s Soup & Study on Zoom, and our discussions are based on a beautiful book by Jill Duffield called Lent in Plain Sight.  It’s a perfect book for this Lenten season, as we have spent the past 12 months confined to our homes and isolated from friends and family, which has forced us to find God in new ways. There’s been a lot of “ordinary” in this extraordinary year, and we are finding God is there with us.

Take ashes and dust, for instance. The season of Lent begins with Ash Wednesday, at which we hear the words “You are dust and to dust you shall return.” It is a stark reminder of our mortality, but also one of hope, as the pastor marks our foreheads with the sign of the cross in ashes. This year, we distributed “drive-through ashes” in the church parking lot. 

We’ve all had plenty of reminders of mortality in this pandemic year. Every day, we have watched the death tolls on the news, and we have experienced loss on more personal levels. Death has been all around us. Our small congregation of 175 members said painful goodbyes to 15 of our beloved members this past year. Yet we find God in the ashes of grief, remembering the joys and love that was shared, and finding faith in the promise of resurrection. We see God in ashes.

Bread is another ordinary object in which we can find God. Like many people, I have taken up bread baking this past year, both as a diversion and as a way to avoid going to the store. Watching the yeast foam is like watching something come alive. Kneading dough is comforting. Watching it rise feels triumphant. Baking bread takes patience and effort, but it produces a simple, delicious food that nourishes and fills us. Bread is nothing short of a miracle-- a simple, everyday miracle, like breathing and growing and living.

Bread is one of the elements of communion, one of the two sacraments in the Presbyterian Church.  In communion, we break bread and eat it, remembering Jesus’ words to his disciples at his last supper with them to “Do this and remember me.” Traditionally, when we shared communion in church, we would pass a silver tray with little cubes of bread and tiny cups of grape juice. This past year, in online worship, we gathered up bread (or crackers or cookies) and juice (or coffee or water) from our own kitchens, and shared communion together in front of our computer screens. Strangely, I found that communion took on a deeper meaning for me this way. We were sharing real food—simple items which nourish and comfort us-- to remember Jesus. It seemed closer to what Jesus did with his disciples, taking the bread from the table in front of him and saying “This is my body.” An ordinary thing becomes sacred. We see God in bread.  

How do we see God in ordinary things? We slow down and pay attention. We name the object and think about what it does and what it represents.  Jill Duffield suggests asking yourself the question “What do you take for granted?” and then taking a moment to see common objects as gifts from God and saying a prayer of thanks. Take water, for instance. Plain ordinary water is the substance that makes up 60% of our bodies (and the planet), that refreshes us, cleans us, makes plants grow, and keeps us alive. Thank God for water!
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This Lent, look around you. God is in the simple, common, ordinary things which surround you. God is in plain sight every day.
 

by Rev. Patrick Heery

​Two weeks ago, Westminster Presbyterian Church celebrated Scout Sunday, in honor of the 12th point of the Scout Law, which declares that a Scout is reverent. It’s a day for thanking our Scouts, leaders, and families for their service to the community. While different this year because of COVID, this is always a fun and special service. We raise money to combat hunger and to support our Scouts, many of whom come from neighboring low-income families who work really hard and give in many ways and yet can’t afford the ever-increasing fees and cost of equipment. As an Eagle Scout myself, I especially love this service.

I remember, as a Scout, hiking in the woods, a compass in my hand, camping in the snow, s’mores on the fire. I remember service projects of mapping new trails, building footbridges, and cleaning up streets. I remember the sound of the bugle at dawn, swimming in the lake, leading my troop in prayer, making great pots of stew and chili and scrambled eggs. I remember learning to orient myself in the pitch dark of night and playing capture the flag beneath the stars. I remember all of this with love.

But this year, we felt compelled in our Scout Sunday service to be mindful that there are some whose memories of Scouting are not so loving. There were the Scouts and leaders who were excluded on the basis of their sexuality or gender identity. There were those who never internalized the moral responsibilities of Scouting, who thought it was all guns and arrows and power, the Scouts (and yes, I remember this too) who while at camp threw rocks at animals and laughed. Then, last year, the BSA filed for bankruptcy due to lawsuits, accusing leaders of the most heinous evil (many of those accusations of abuse tragically true). It makes you wonder: Is Scouting really worth saving?

I say, Yes. It is worth saving. But it is also worth changing. It is worth saving only if it is willing to be held accountable for past wrongs and become something better. Here are four reasons.

First, Scouting is one of the few opportunities new generations have to experience nature. There are in nature truths of God and of self that cannot be discerned elsewhere. There is a plethora of research revealing that free, unscripted play in nature is vital to the formation of imagination, critical thinking, compassion, and independence. Moreover, as humanity faces its greatest threat in climate change, Scouting is equipping our children with the love and the knowledge necessary to fight this threat.

Second, Scouting is about character. It’s there in the Scout Law: trustworthiness, kindness, bravery, reverence. So much emphasis is made these days on the accumulation of information, skills, power, and wealth, that we have forgotten the need to shape our children—and indeed ourselves—in morality. Here, in this age of relativism and hate, are children learning to serve principles higher than themselves, more important than their pleasure or their privilege.

Third, Scouting tells every child: you matter. When I became a Scout I was a shy, bullied kid with a speech impediment. And it’s not that Scouting suddenly made all that better. But Scouting gave me people who believed in me, challenged me. When we look at the ills of the world, how many of them come down to people who are hurting and use that to hurt others? If we really want to save the world, we should build up people’s internal sense of worth.

Fourth, Scouting is about teamwork. Scouting teaches collaboration, provides community, reveals that there are some things, often the best things, that can only be achieved together. Almost all of the points of the Scout Law are about how you treat others: with honesty, with loyalty, with kindness. In a world of me-me-me, we need more of the servant’s heart.

Look, I don’t care if the organizations survive—BSA, Girl Scouts, whatever—anymore than I care whether the Presbyterian Church survives. These are but fallible institutions, and they must be held accountable. Abuse and discrimination must never be tolerated. What I think we cannot afford to lose is Scouting itself.

We must save it, and we must change it. Already, Scouting is becoming more inclusive and implementing safeguards and protocols to ensure the accountability of our leaders and the safety of our children. Already, Scouting is changing. It looks different. Good! It should. Only then is it worth saving.

by Shavonn Lynch
​If ever there was a time when we needed each other to survive, the time is now. Isolation and social distancing have taken a toll on people’s psyche and mental health. As a global pandemic rages on, gathering as a community seems like a forbidden idea as we are unable to gather outside our homes, in churches, in restaurants and bars, or in sports arenas. There is a sense of longing unfulfilled to engage and interact with others in meaningful and purposeful ways.
People are social beings created to be in community with each other and yet many of us find ourselves alone.  However, if we are confined by what shape or form a community must take then we will find find ourselves feeling hopelessness and despair.  This past year, 2020 showed me that there are many ways to be community, to share love, and to care for one another without being confined by isolation or social distancing. My faith teaches me that the true measure of a community of faith is not found inside the four walls of the sanctuary. The true measure of a faith community is boundless, without walls, it stretches as far as God’s love.
During this time of isolation and social distancing what has kept me, a single woman, from hopelessness and despair is God’s love that is shown through the women of Refresh. Refresh is a woman’s group which I started at Westminster Church a few years ago to give women  in the community a safe and supportive space to be together, share questions and ideas, and grow in faith. It began as a small group which would meet one Saturday morning a month in the church social room. By the grace of God and the wonders of modern technology, the women of Refresh now gather as a virtual community, no matter the distance between us. As a virtual community, we continue to explore our spiritual faith formation. Our numbers have actually grown, and we now welcome many for whom in-person meetings were impractical or impossible.
 I have found that belonging to Refresh, has done just that; refreshed me. When I started Refresh pre-pandemic, I could not have imagined how important this community of women would be to my overall mental, emotional, psychological, and spiritual health.  Through reading the Word of God, studying topics of faith, hope, love, and the church; and holding each other in prayer and love, we strengthen, encourage, and inspire one another to grow not only in our relationships with each other but with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Although we miss the days of gathering in the social room at Westminster Presbyterian Church praying, studying, fellowshipping, and drinking coffee together, we know that God is with every one of us whether we gather at our kitchen tables or sit comfortably in our favorite chairs.  
Currently we are completing a study on the letter to the seven churches in the book of Revelation. We will collectively discern our next topic of study. We have been meeting virtually approximately twice a month (still on Saturday mornings) during the pandemic to encourage, nurture, strengthen and care for one another as we talk, share our concerns, pray, study, and yes drink coffee. Despite our distance and physical separation, we can continue to hold each other in prayer and love. God’s grace and love sustains in our absence one from another. We carry that grace and love with us through the days and weeks we are apart.
If you are interested in learning more about Refresh, please contact me at [email protected].
Shavonn Lynch is an ordained deacon and elder at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Auburn. She is a graduate of Northeastern Seminary at Roberts Wesleyan College with a Masters of Divinity.