by Jill Fandrich

We all have multiple names. I am Jill, Mrs. Fandrich, Mom, and (my favorite) Grandma. We really only know people in terms of their relationship to us, and the names we are called by reflect those relationships.

It’s no surprise then that there are many names for Jesus.

Even in his own time, people didn’t know what to call Jesus. Three of the Gospels relate the story of Jesus asking his disciples “Who do people say that I am?” The disciples answered, “Some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, and some say Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Jesus then asked them, “Who do YOU say that I am?” Peter, one of the disciples, responded, “You are the Messiah, the son of the living God.” Even those closest to Jesus didn’t agree on who he was.

Here’s a list of some of the names for Jesus:
Christ
Messiah
Emmanuel
King of Kings
Prince of Peace
Lamb of God
Saviour
Redeemer
Light of the World
Bread of Life
Good Shepherd
Rabbi/Teacher
Son of Man/Son of God
 
There are a lot more. Some sources say there are over 200 in the Bible, but you get the point.

So who is Jesus, anyway? Why so many names? Why isn’t there a simple way to talk about the central figure of the Christian faith? Is one more “right” than the others?

As a lifelong Christian who struggles to describe my beliefs, I find this plethora of names to be helpful, and even quite comforting, to my understanding of the Christian faith. If Jesus truly is both divine and human, which is a central tenant of Christianity, that’s a concept that is way too big to define in a single way. The many ways we talk about Jesus is like a multi-faceted prism, each shining light on a complex concept.
Let’s look at a few of the names and what they mean. The name Jesus itself means “Saviour.” Christ means “the Anointed One” and it is a title, not a surname. Most scholars think that Jesus’ “given name” was probably Joshua (Yeshua in Hebrew), which means “Yahweh saves.” “Yeshua” became “Jesus” to the Greeks.

“Saviour” and “Redeemer” reflect the belief that Jesus died for peoples’ sins on the cross, thereby “redeeming” them from the original sin of Adam and Eve. This doctrine, called “substitutional atonement,” is basic to many Christians, who believe that Jesus died on the cross to atone for the sins of mankind, being the “substitute” for God’s wrath. “Lamb of God” also invokes imagery of sacrificial lambs, a reference to the Abrahamic traditions of sacrificing a valuable animal as an act of worship.

“King of Kings” and “Prince of Peace” are also names of Jesus. Jesus wasn’t royalty, and neither was the Kingdom he proclaimed. Jesus was born to a humble family, worked as a carpenter, chose fishermen as his disciples, and hung out with outcasts, prostitutes, tax collectors, lepers, and widows. Jesus lifted up the people who were on the fringes and loved the people who no one else loved. The Kingdom of God he tried to bring to earth was one of love and peace.

Jesus is also called “Good Shepherd” and “Rabbi”. Although we don’t know many shepherds these days, the image of a good shepherd leading and protecting his flock would have resonated with first century people. “Rabbi”, which means teacher, reflects Jesus as a storyteller, instructor, and wise leader of a new understanding of faith. The New Testament is full of Jesus’ parables, illustrative stories which explain a concept or a point in creative, memorable language.

One of my favorite names for Jesus is “Emmanuel,” a name meaning “God with us.” The story of the nativity resonates with me more than any other because I love the concept of God taking human form to dwell among people. “Son of Man and Son of God” also describes the incarnation of God as a human being.  

Jesus himself used metaphors to describe himself. There are many “I AM” statements in the Gospel of John, like “I am… the bread of life… the light of the world… the true vine.”

What I call Jesus and what someone else calls Jesus can both be right. The many names of Jesus reflect a complexity of religious thought that can’t be described in just one way. Who do YOU say that Jesus is?

By Brian Teucke

Anyone reading this can say that during their lifetime, the United States has launched some form of economic or military intervention abroad. We usually hear about these actions through headlines claiming the U.S. acted to “protect U.S. interests” or “spread democracy.” These narratives make it easy to assume the United States is a “global force for good.” As Christians, we may even interpret foreign policy decisions as a kind of international charity, similar to Christ’s care for “the least of these.” Yet when we step outside mainstream narratives and revisit history more critically, a far more troubling, and decidedly un-Christian, reality emerges.

That reality is American imperialism. We are often taught that imperialism belongs to the past (the Roman or British empires), but Merriam-Webster defines it as “the policy, practice, or advocacy of extending the power and dominion of a nation… by direct territorial acquisitions or by gaining indirect control over the political or economic life of other areas.” Applied to modern history, that definition becomes uncomfortably relevant. Ever hear of Cuba? How about Maduro? In nearly every hemisphere, the United States has exercised political, military, or economic dominance that fits Webster’s description. 

The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) has addressed foreign intervention in language that directly challenges imperialism. The church has stated that intervention “must not cloak the pursuit of economic or narrow security interests” and “should advance the general welfare of all the inhabitants… and not become a tool by which powerful elites further cement their power.” In 2016, we renounced “violence as a means to further selfish national interests, to procure wealth, or to dominate others.” 

The church has also reflected on its own global engagement, particularly in mission work. The Rev. Mienda Uriarte recently called Presbyterians to “de-center ourselves… away from thinking we are primary agents, benefactors and senders,” recognizing instead that we are partners in God’s mission. 

Taken together, these teachings call us to reject domination cloaked as benevolence and to de-colonize our interactions with people in other countries so that our mission work doesn’t become the religious counterpart to US imperialism.

If Presbyterians in America are to live faithfully, we must unmask both the intent and impact of U.S. imperial policy. Is “defending U.S. interests” synonymous with serving the vulnerable? Do our interventions meet the church’s own moral criteria? Are we willing to stand in solidarity with those harmed by our government’s actions?
Reconciling U.S. foreign policy with PC(USA) commitments to peace is difficult. While the full impact of American imperialism cannot be summarized in a single Citizen article, even a cursory history provides sobering evidence.

Throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, U.S. policy, through wars, covert regime change, sanctions, and dominance of global finance, has reshaped societies across the globe. The wars in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan alone cost trillions of dollars and resulted in hundreds of thousands, and by some estimates over a million, deaths, along with mass displacement and ecological destruction (Agent Orange, massive carbon emissions, and pollution left by military occupations). In Central and South America, U.S.-backed coups and counterinsurgency campaigns in Guatemala, Chile, Nicaragua, and El Salvador left tens of thousands dead, uprooted Indigenous and peasant communities, and replaced democratically elected governments with right-wing regimes. And for those who complain about migrants in this country, much of the migration northward over the past half-century cannot be understood apart from the destabilization and violence, precipitated by the US government, that helped drive that displacement. 

A consistent thread in many of these interventions has been this country’s obsession with overturning popularly elected socialist governments. Whether in Guatemala in 1954, Chile in 1973, Nicaragua in the 1980s, or Cuba for more than six decades, U.S. policy has often treated experiments in socialism not as political alternatives to debate, but as threats to be dismantled. Human lives and ecosystems are sacrificed in defense of capitalism and its global expansion.

Presbyterians should also consider who benefits materially from US imperialism. Since 9/11 alone, the United States has spent more than $8 trillion on wars and related military operations, while annual defense budgets now exceed $800 billion. A significant share of that spending flows to private defense contractors whose profits rise alongside global instability, and these budgets routinely pass Congress with strong bipartisan support. In the end, weapons manufactures are handed massive profits by both Democrats and Republicans, while global working people suffer. 

Well, what about sanctions? Sanctions just go after the bad actors in power, right? Wrong. Economic sanctions, often described as “targeted,” have inflicted broad harm. In countries such as Cuba and Venezuela, sanctions have restricted access to medicine, financial systems, fuel, and development, disproportionately affecting civilians. Though advertised as peaceful alternatives to war, sanctions function as economic warfare, pressuring entire populations in hopes of political change. Would it surprise you to learn that sanctions are another area in which Democrats and Republicans seamlessly work together?

Meanwhile, major media outlets describe interventions as efforts to promote “freedom,” “democracy,” or “national security.” Talking heads emphasize humanitarian rescue, deterrence, or counter-terrorism, softening the language of domination. These euphemisms obscure the material costs. They rarely mention how public spending is diverted from domestic needs and is instead spent on contributing to environmental damage, global instability, and human suffering. 

As people of faith, we must reflect seriously on these realities. Who has benefited from U.S. imperial policy, and who has suffered? Has our world become safer or more peaceful as a result of repeated interventions? How has imperial blowback affected our own communities through refugee resettlement, strained budgets, or veterans living with lasting physical and psychological wounds? 
Is any of this necessary?

We often hear the United States described as a “Christian nation.” For Presbyterians, the more pressing question is how closely our nation’s foreign policy resembles the teachings of Christ. If our theology renounces domination and calls us to uplift the “least of these,” then we must examine whether our government’s actions reflect those convictions or contradict them.

Brian Teucke is co-chair of Worth Uniting Cayuga and an elder at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Auburn.

By Audrey McNally
 
Lent, which begins on Ash Wednesday (February 18th this year), is a period of forty days preceding Easter, and excluding Sundays. Lent is often observed as a time of repentance, penitence, and abstinence, depending upon the teachings of a particular church body or one’s personal beliefs. Some faith practices advocate ”giving up” earthly pleasures such as foods, alcoholic beverages, or indulgent activities. Other traditions encourage “taking on” spiritual or humanitarian endeavors, such as Bible study, giving to worthy causes, or working for social justice. 
 
At Westminster Presbyterian Church, our members seek to approach the Lenten season with a balance of both sacrifice (giving up) and spiritual formation (taking on) with our annual “Soup & Study” tradition. Each Wednesday night meeting of this five-week series consists of a simple soup supper followed by a period of study or devotions. For over twenty years, Soup & Study has had an enthusiastic following and has explored such varied subjects as Bible study, sacred music styles, creative arts, journaling, and alternative worship formats.
 
This year’s Soup & Study will once again feature a musical theme with a Lenten devotional book titled Were You There? Lenten Reflections on the Spirituals by Luke A. Powery (Westminster John Know Press, 2019). Intended as a daily devotional with forty separate entries, each one consists of several scripture readings, the lyrics of a selected spiritual, reflections on the song, and a closing prayer. 
 
Spirituals, also known as Negro spirituals, merged African cultural experiences with the realities of being held in bondage. Therefore, the story of their development is closely aligned to African American history and changed according to the era in which they were sung, gradually evolving into the derivative musical genres of the blues and gospel songs of the 20th century. Before the abolition of slavery in 1863, spirituals were sung as work songs or after the regular worship services (which at the time featured mainly hymns and psalms). In rural meetings, spirituals enabled people to share joys, pains, and hopes, exchange coded messages, unite people, and keep their culture alive throughout the generations.
 
Spirituals were often rooted in Biblical stories of both the Old and New Testaments, referencing themes of deliverance and liberation, and were also inspired by the message of Jesus Christ and the “Good News” of salvation. As the author Luke Powery states, spirituals “can be a sign of hope and the presence of God in the midst of agony. This is why they are called the ‘Spirituals’ because they are the Spirit’s song and the Spirit will not be stopped and will blow through every season of life, even liturgical seasons like Lent”. 
 
“Were You There?” is a well-known, beloved African American spiritual and a fitting title for a Lenten devotional because its theme deals with Christ’s crucifixion.
 
Were you there when they crucified my Lord? (were you there?)
Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Oh!
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
 
This spiritual is an especially meaningful and emotive one for me (and many long-time Westminster worshippers) because for years it was reverently offered as a Holy Week solo by a beautiful man and soul, Charles Hardy, in a powerful baritone voice. His singing of “Were You There? would bring tears to one’s eyes and chills to the spine. Charles Hardy passed away on his 80th birthday on January 15, 1995. I remarked to his son Jack that I would give anything to have a recording of his Dad singing “Were You There?”. 
 
All are welcome to join us for the 2026 Soup & Study series held each Wednesday evening (following Ash Wednesday) on February 25, March 4, 11, 18, and 25 at 5:30-7:00 PM in the church’s Social Room (church building). Soup is served at 5:30 PM with devotions commencing at 6:15 PM, led by Pastor Adam Demetros, Elder Linda MacKay, Elder Susan Marteney, Dr. Amanda Demetros, or Elder Paul Dungey. Deacon Donna Riester will provide piano accompaniment. A copy of the book is not required. For anyone seeking quiet meditation or prayer, the Memorial Chapel will also be open to visitors during those times. Additional information can be obtained by contacting the Westminster Church office at (315)253-3331. Will you be there for “Were You There?”
 
Audrey McNally is an elder, member of the Worship Committee and Westminster Choir, and moderator of the Christian Education Committee of Westminster Presbyterian Church.

by Jill Fandrich
There are two places in Auburn which are near and dear to me—Westminster Church and Seymour Library. I’ve been a member of Westminster since my husband and I settled here in 1980, and I’ve had my library card for just as long. Wherever I’ve lived, I’ve been a regular at both a church and a local library. They are both holy places, in a broad sense of the word. And while they serve different functions, there are many similarities between them.

Auburn is blessed with one of the best libraries I’ve ever seen. It hits all the marks for being what a library should be. And when I started to think about what those marks are, it made me realize that many describe what a church should be too.

Libraries welcome everyone, and so should churches, whether you’re a regular, a first-time visitor, a tourist, or someone who hasn’t stepped foot in one for years. You can be an unhoused person or the wealthiest person in town and you’ll be treated the same way. All ages are welcome-- the youngest infant, the active toddler, the aloof teenager, the harried adult, and the lonely senior. Libraries are intergenerational, blending and engaging people of all ages and walks of life. Churches should be like this too, embracing everyone who walks through the doors.

Questions are welcome! Libraries live for them; churches should too. A library exists to explore ideas. It is chocked full of books. reference materials, and people who will help connect you with information and ideas. No question is too small or trivial. The library is there to help people explore the big, and the little, questions of life. So too should a church. Whether you consider yourself “religious” or not, all people ask the “big questions” in life—Is there a higher power?, What happens after death?, What is the purpose of life?, Why is there war, hatred, poverty?, Who is my neighbor? A church should welcome these questions, not to give answers but to explore the possibilities. The questions are as important as the answers.

Libraries celebrate history, traditions, and memories. Seymour’s history room preserves Auburn’s history in print. The building itself holds personal memories, with parents bringing their children for story time in the same room they enjoyed as toddlers. A library is a place which brings the past, present, and future together. So does a church. The “old, old stories” are told in new ways, providing an age-old perspective on life, love, service, and meaning for individuals and the community alike. Churches link us to our past, help us understand our present, and give us hope for the future. ​.

 Libraries have knowledgeable, friendly, caring people who are there to help you. Librarians are trained professionals with incredible skills, but more importantly, they are really cool people who love to help others. They don’t know everything; they just know how to find everything! Churches help people too. People come into church with all sorts of needs and wants, and more often than not, a church will help them find what they’re looking for.

Library buildings and church buildings are incredible. I love to go into libraries when we travel. Some are old, historic edifices which feel like walking into the past. Some are modern marvels of glass, moving shelves, and natural light. Some are small and simple storefronts. I love visiting churches too. I am always amazed by the architecture, the art, the history, and stories that these buildings tell. Libraries and churches are stories in stone. And the challenges of maintaining them, restoring them, retrofitting them for modern use, and financially supporting them are shared by libraries and churches alike.

Libraries are community gathering places. They host lectures, workshops, films, book groups, music performances, and art displays. In a time when people are socially isolated, libraries are a place to be with others. Churches are community gathering places too. Their worship space, kitchens, gyms, and meeting rooms are ideal for concerts, lectures, films, forums, meetings, classes, and meals. Churches can and should be “third spaces” in today’s isolated and siloed world.

Libraries are orderly, peaceful places which exude a sense of belonging, respect, and hope. The books therein might contain radical ideas, but the library itself is a serene place. The same can be said of churches. There is a reason why sanctuaries are called that; church can and should be a place of refuge and security.

Libraries aren’t all perfect and neither are churches. Both strive to meet very high ideals. I’m lucky to have a great library and a great church in my life, and I value them for many of the same reasons. I hope you find places like this in your life too.
 

by Jill Fandrich

​My relationship with the Christmas season is “complicated,” as they say. On the one hand, I love Christmas. I love the Christmas story, the traditions, the nostalgia, the family time, and the generosity and good will it engenders (most of the time) in people. But I also struggle with the commercialization, the greed, the frenzy, and the unrealistic expectations for perfection and joy. How do we manage “the most wonderful time of the year” when sometimes it’s not particularly wonderful? 

Christmas is very different for me and my husband now that we are retired empty nesters, but I’ll never forget how hectic it was when we were both working and our kids were young. Office parties (lots of them), school concerts (three kids at different schools), community events, shopping at crowded malls on weekends, writing Christmas cards, baking cookies, spending time with our aging parents in two different locations, decorating our house, wrapping presents into the wee hours on Christmas Eve, pageant rehearsals and special services at church, caroling at nursing homes, and generally running ragged from Thanksgiving to New Years Day. 

In those years, there was a popular book which my church would sometimes pull out to provide “helpful” advice for families. It was called Unplug the Christmas Machine, and it was a well-meaning attempt to get people to slow down and focus on the important things during the holidays. It was also terribly guilt-inducing. I remember wanting to follow its advice, knowing what it said was right, and being absolutely unable to cut back because everything we did seemed important. 

Time has taken care of a lot of “unplugging” in my life. Our kids are grown and have homes and families of their own. We can dote on the grandkids, and it’s fun for us rather than stressful. We try to all get together for the holidays and it’s great when we do, but ok when we can’t. They have jobs, in-laws, and busy schedules, and we support their decisions to balance accordingly. Do I miss the old days? Yes, in some ways. I miss the excitement and I miss the family and friends we’ve lost. But life moves on, as it should. 

The pandemic also broke a lot of the expectations for “perfect holidays” because we had to make do with limited travel, less together-time, and choosing safety over traditions. Holiday parties were canceled, church services were all online, people (including families) couldn’t gather in large groups. But Christmas still happened, Jesus was still born, and God was and is still with us. The pandemic forced us to reset our expectations, and changed our perspective about what was and is important. 

So Christmas is complicated, no matter what phase of life you’re in, which is why my church offers a special Longest Night Service each year. It is always held on December 21, the winter solstice, the day with the least sunlight and the most darkness. It is a service which recognizes that holidays can be difficult for people who are going through dark times in their lives. It is hard to have a “holly, jolly Christmas” when dealing with illness, grief, loss, loneliness, uncertainty, financial hardships, depression, or change. Even just the general feeling of disappointment that our lives aren’t like the Hallmark movies can be difficult. These things and the lack of light in northern winters can make us all feel like we are in the “longest night.” 

We welcome everyone who would like a quiet, safe place to acknowledge the dark times in their lives and their hopes for better tomorrows. The Longest Night service offers a message of hope and a place of welcome. It will be Sunday evening, December 21, at 7pm in the Westminster Church chapel at 17 William St in downtown Auburn, and all are welcome. 

One of my favorite bible passages comes from the Gospel of John; it says, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness shall not overcome it.” On the longest night of the year, we light candles to remind us that the next day and every day after will be a little bit brighter. It is one of the most powerful messages of the Christmas season, and one we hope to share with whoever needs to hear it. 
 

by Jill Fandrich

There’s an old saying that “the devil is in the details,” meaning that seemingly straightforward ideas might be more complicated to execute than anticipated. Years of church work supports the truth in the saying. Sometimes we get overwhelmed by the enormity of the need in our world and our limited abilities and resources to address everything we want to address. So we do what can by paying attention to the small things that can make a difference.  I’d like to suggest that “God is in the details” too. In fact, very much so.

Church boards and committees deal with important and lofty matters of faith, theology, justice, and mission, but how we actually do the work of God is determined in the small ways we live out our faith on a daily basis. Yes, I’ve been in meetings where we get sidetracked over who will bring the paper products or what color we should paint a room. I’ve also been in meetings when we’ve spent a great deal of time and energy determining how to meet the unique needs of people and situations, and how to best serve God in the process.

For the most part, paying attention to the “little things” are signs that we care enough to do the big things well. The following is a partial list of the ways my church serves others, in small ways and large.  

• Delivering meals to members and friends who are sick, recovering from surgery, or welcoming a new baby.
• Sending cards or making calls to let people know we’re thinking of them.
• Delivering communion to homebound members and friends.
• Knitting prayer shawls or lap blankets to wrap people in warmth and love.
• Donating food to local food pantries.
• Distributing personal care items and cleaning supplies to people who need them.
• Opening our church to AA, AlAnon, Heroin Anonymous, and Narcotic Anonymous.
• Helping a family of children in Uganda attend school.
• Sponsoring and supporting scout troops who meet in our church.
• Welcoming our unhoused neighbors by providing a “Safe and Warm” space to gather every Friday afternoon.
• Worshiping with the residents of Westminster Manor.
• Providing free books for adults and children in our “Little Free Library”.
• Helping local children stay warm in the winter by being the storage and distribution site for “Warm the Children”.
• Giving Christmas gifts to local families, through the county’s Early Intervention Program.
• Awarding scholarships to Westminster students to pursue college education.
• Advocating for social justice and educating ourselves on community needs.
• Instituting environmentally friendly practices in our church with new lighting, recycling efforts, and reusable or compostable products.
• Hosting concerts and recitals for community choirs.
• Sharing our playground with the YMCA preschool.
• Making our church welcoming to everyone, with accessible rest rooms, wheelchair seating in the sanctuary, level entries, a chair lift, and a good sound system.
• Livestreaming worship so that homebound members and friends can worship from home.

In addition to the things our church does collectively, there are many things we do individually. Our members serve on local boards, run for public office, volunteer at Matthew House, build beds at Sleep in Heavenly Peace, lead worship in Auburn Correctional Facility, carry signs at community rallies, stock shelves at food pantries, deliver “Meals on Wheels,” sing in community choirs, tutor with Literacy Volunteers,  work as teachers, nurses, or service providers, and much more.

Will these programs and activities bring world peace, eradicate poverty, end hunger, or eliminate racism and inequality? No… not in and of themselves. But they each will help someone in their own ways. I am reminded of the quote attributed to Mother Theresa— "Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”

So the next time you or someone complains about long meetings, low attendance at events, frustration over complicated plans, or feeling too small to make a difference, remember that “God is in the details”. The details, the little things, are what matter.

Writer and pastor Rev. Mark Sandlin said it well in a recent article, “All the world’s major religions aren’t trying to turn us into saints. They’re just trying to turn us into better neighbors.  And honestly? That’s enough. That’s world-changing.”

by Rev Adam Demetros

The Book of Exodus tells the harrowing story of the Israelites leaving slavery in Egypt and making their way to the Promised Land. The way to the Promised Land was unclear and they experienced a far amount of hardships along the way, but they eventually discovered that salvation is often found along the hard roads of life.

Only a few weeks into their long journey, the Israelites were attacked by a fearsome warrior named Amalek and his band of murders and thieves. These guys were like something out of a post-apocalyptic novel where gangs of mutant like thugs prey on defenseless travelers in the barren wasteland of the desert. However, the Israelites were not as defenseless as Amalek thought.

When the attack began, Moses, the leader of the Israelites, told his second in command, Joshua, to recruit some strong men and go defend the people. When the battle began, Moses went to the top of a nearby hill and held up the staff of God in his hands. And we’re told that when Moses held the staff of God up in the air, Joshua and his men prevailed in the battle against Amalek. But when Moses’ hands grew tired and he lowered the staff to the ground, Amalek and his men prevailed.

Clearly the battle wasn’t being decided by Joshua and his men’s ability with the sword, but by Moses and his ability to hold up his hands in faith. But that kind of makes you wonder, “If this story is actually about Moses lifting up his hands, then what’s the point of Joshua fighting the battle? Why doesn’t God just rain down fire on Amalek and his thugs?” That’s a good question, but I think the point of the battle wasn’t just to defeat their enemies and be victorious. No, I think the point was to teach the people not to be afraid of their adversaries and have faith.

The truth is that we’re always going to have advisories. There’s always going to be someone or something that stands in the way of your goals in life. At the end of chapter seventeen, we’re told that, “Amalek will persevere from one generation to the next.” Which means that he’s just going to keep showing up with different names and different faces wherever you go. Which also means that you’re going to find yourself fighting the same battle time after time until you learn to no longer be afraid, and trust that the battle belongs to God.

So let me ask you, who’s your Amalek? Who or what is it that tempts you to be afraid and makes you doubt that you’ll ever make it to the Promised Land? (Whatever the Promised Land might be for you) Is it the haunting voices from your past that say that, “You’re not good enough, or smart enough, or pretty enough. And that you’ll never be worthy of love”. Or maybe your Amalek is the addiction that you’ve struggled with for so long that you don’t think you’ll ever be free of it. Maybe it’s a sense of guilt and shame over what you’ve done, or left undone. Or maybe your Amalek is an actual person who’s been your nemeses for some time now and keeps showing up to cause you pain.

You can pray for God to make your Amalek go away, but as we learn from the Israelites’ desert journey, God won’t just make your problems go away. Instead, God gives you opportunities to respond in faith. Which I think is a very important distinction as we continue to live in a world of conflict and division.

Contrary to popular belief, your adversaries are not a divine judgment from God. God did not put someone in your life to punish you. In fact, one of the ways we learn faith in through the redemption of evil. And the way God redeems and defeats evil is by using our adversaries for good. I think this is one of the reasons why Jesus told us to love our enemies. Because not only will love eventually triumphs over evil, but we can also learn to love the sacred purpose that God has for those to seek to do us harm. The challenging part is recognizing that sacred purpose and responding in faith and love. But for the sake of our divided world, we have to try.

By Brian Teucke

This moment in U.S. history, defined by rising authoritarianism, extreme wealth inequality, and the withering away of participatory democracy, is not a glitch in the system. Rather, it is the very design of our system. It is simply the next evolutionary stage of our nation’s political economy—capitalism.

A helpful definition of capitalism comes from the Oxford Dictionary, which defines the term as “an economic and political system in which a country’s trade and industry are controlled by private owners for profit.” In other words, we live in a society in which government and the economy are linked, and in which the production of goods and services exists primarily to generate wealth, not to satisfy the basic needs—or even the wants—of the people.

As a community, we can certainly look around us and notice the many people whose needs go unmet. We look at what’s happening in our country and community and feel emotions of despair and shock, asking ourselves: “How did we possibly get to this point?” How did we get to the point where this country has over 650,000 unhoused people, the most ever in our history? How did we get to the point where over 25 million Americans have no health insurance and 66% of all bankruptcies result from medical debt? How did we get to the point where the three richest Americans collectively hold more wealth than the bottom 50% of the population combined? Instead of making our society better, why is capitalism making things worse, especially for marginalized communities?

If we’re going to be honest with ourselves, we might do well to accept the fact that under capitalism, this is supposed to be the way things turned out—and maybe, just maybe, consider that a better form of political economy is possible.

Where we are in U.S. history could be defined as the era of Citizens United—the 2010 landmark Supreme Court case that opened the floodgates for corporate wealth to enter our elections. If one were to compare the election cycles of 2008 and 2024, they would find that campaign contributions from corporate interests increased from $534 million to $4.5 billion—a tenfold increase in the post-Citizens decision era. This influence has largely alienated the will of the people from the will of their representatives.

In the Citizens United era, both Democratic- and Republican-controlled congresses have prevented highly favorable legislative issues from becoming law. These include policies such as Medicare for All (60%+ favorability), paid family leave (70%+ favorability), and, ironically, the overturning of Citizens United itself (80% favorability). As such, has capitalism strengthened our democracy, or turned it into an oligarchy?
Again, when a society’s political economy is built to generate and concentrate wealth rather than satisfy the needs and will of the people, we shouldn’t be surprised that the Citizens United decision was issued or that the ever-growing wealth of the capitalist class has solidified its control over our country’s representatives. A lot of folks I speak with, from a variety of demographic groups, think that their vote or their voice does not matter. Given the conditions explained in this essay, who could blame them for that viewpoint? The lack of trust in our system could explain why 90 million eligible voters did not vote in the 2024 election or why less than a third of Americans approve of either the Democrats or Republicans.

And for those who choose to engage the system, another concern presents itself. Historically, fascism often emerges as a logical step in capitalist societies because, when economic crises and inequality move working people to challenge the system, elites turn to authoritarian nationalism, the scapegoating of immigrants, and repression to preserve their wealth and power. Does any of that sound familiar?

You may be fed up with the doom and gloom at this point and are wondering if it’s worth continuing to the end of this article. But as they say in the labor movement: Don’t despair—organize! Together, we can build a more just system than the one we are forced to settle for under capitalism.

As a Matthew 25 congregation, Westminster Presbyterian sponsors several programs to address the carnage of capitalism and bring people together for collective change. For those in our neighborhood who find it difficult to satisfy their basic needs, we offer a monthly personal care pantry as well as food, shelter, and personal care items every Friday through the “Safe and Warm” program—just to name a few. We lovingly invite those looking for a church home, or those who simply want to help neighbors in need, to contact the church if they feel moved to volunteer.

Last but not least, our community is filled with organizations helping the victims of capitalism and bringing community members together to take back our democracy. I co-chair Worth Uniting Cayuga (WUC)—a grassroots coalition of progressive groups and people working to create a true and independent people’s assembly, representative of all the neighborhoods in Auburn and all the towns in Cayuga County. We do this to build democracy from below, independent from the corruption of capitalism and the two-party system underserving our country. Fantastic organizations such as Indivisible Cayuga, the Cayuga County NAACP, and Cayuga Climate Action are just a few of the coalition members in WUC.

That’s the good news, friends—people are organizing, and they’re eager for you to join them. If you’re one of the people who have understandably given up on our system but know there’s something better, there’s a home for you in one of the many organizations in our community aimed at restoring democracy and helping those in need. Together, we the people—not the corporate-influenced Democrats and Republicans—are the only chance to make America truly a nation of We the People, not We the Wealthy.
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To do better, it merits repeating: Don’t despair—organize!
-Brian Teucke 
WUC Co-Chair and Elder at Westminster Presbyterian
[email protected]

By Shelley Pantoliano
         This past year, a good friend asked me to become part of a Covenant Group, which is a small group that meets regularly to focus on spiritual growth, personal reflection, and mutual support.
         There are three of us in my Covenant Group.  We meet weekly to share our joys and struggles, and take turns praying for one another. We also ask each other: “Where have you seen God this week?” This group helps me be consciously aware that God is always present. 
         The world clamors for our attention every day. We are overwhelmed by the daily demands of life, and we miss that small voice of God, the voice Elijah heard when he stopped looking for God in loud, overwhelming displays of nature. God so often can be found in the small and unintrusive.
         There are many ways to see God, but here are a few that we often share in my Covenant Group.
We Can See God in Nature: In central New York, we enjoy four seasons that each have their own beauty: flowers bursting with color and variety in the spring and summer; brilliant fall leaves that dance on crisp breezes; glittering snow that falls silently and peacefully. 
On the road where I live, there are rows of orange tiger lilies on the sides of the road in the summer. I noticed last month when they were in full bloom, that someone had put up signs reading “Please don’t mow the lilies.”  Whoever posted those signs clearly has a love for nature. Where can you see God in nature? By a lake? In a soft rain shower? Walking through the woods? Take time to see God’s hand in the world around us even if it’s only the sound of birdsong in the early hours of dawn or the deep red of a fall leaf that you see on the sidewalk when you’re out for a walk.  
We Can See God in Prayer: Several times in Scripture, Jesus went off by himself to pray. It was an important and regular part of his life. 
         Prayer is an important part of my Covenant Group. We share our concerns and then we pray for each other. We don’t worry about trying to make our prayers sound fancy. We just pray from the heart and know that God hears us.
         Prayer can be hard. We want to be faithful about praying, but finding the words isn’t easy sometimes. In her poem “Praying,” author Mary Oliver shares that a prayer need not be eloquent. It is a way to enter God’s presence – to “see” God as you enter a holy time of communication: 
Praying
It doesn’t have to be the blue iris,
It could be weeds in a vacant lot,
Or a few small stones;
Just pay attention,
Then patch a few words together
And don’t try to make them elaborate.
This isn’t a contest,
But the doorway into thanks,
And a silence
In which another voice may speak.
(Mary Oliver)
 
We Can See God In the Needy: In our busy lives, we often don’t see the poor, the homeless, the hungry.  It was those people on the fringes of society that Jesus gravitated to. He had no interest in power or wealth. The scriptures are full of stories of Jesus interacting with those most people would ignore. It was his love and compassion that led him to those in need because God’s love was meant for all people, not just the upper class and religious elite.
         My faith community at Westminster Presbyterian Church is a Matthew 25 church, which means it is our mission to reach out to those who are in need.  One of the many ways we do that is through the Personal Care Pantry which offers essential items not covered by SNAP benefits. The people who come are so grateful, so friendly, and often say “God bless you” to us as they head out the door.  We see God in each and every one of them. We are all children of God no matter who we are.
         We can see God in each other. In Christianity, there is a concept that is central to our faith called Imago Dei, which is Latin for “Image of God.”
         It suggests that humans are created with the capacity to reflect God’s nature and character. When we “see” God in others, we recognize the divine presence of God within them, and when we are loving towards others, it is the same as loving God.
         It also means acknowledging their value as creations of the divine, even as we recognize the truth that we as humans are all imperfect and are on unique life journeys that lead us in very different directions.
         Do we see the divine likeness of God in the people in our lives? I see God in the members of my covenant group in their generous, caring spirits, their love for God, and their abiding and steadfast faith as they wrestle with the struggles of life.
         For three years, Jesus traveled with the disciples and in that time together, they learned how love had the power to heal, to encourage, to forgive. On the night of the Last Supper, Jesus gave them a new commandment: to love one another as Jesus loved them, a love which is sacrificial and selfless. It is through that kind of love that we see God in one another. It is forgiving, merciful, and full of grace.
         These are a few of the ways we can see God in our lives. The point is taking the time to consciously look for God around us, because it’s easy to forget that God’s presence manifests itself in so many ways – even in ways that might seem small and insignificant. If you take the time to look, you might be surprised where you end up seeing God.

Shelley Pantoliano, a retired pastor, is a member of Westminster Presbyterian Church. She is married and has 2 children and 3 grandchildren. She enjoys writing poetry, playing the piano, and reading.