Our Native Tongue

by Judy Bevilacqua

This week at the gym, I watched a young man walk through the door and enthusiastically high-five his friend at one of the weight machines (or instruments of torture)! These two talked animatedly, laughing and gesturing wildly. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but I believe they were speaking Romanian. I found myself smiling, deeply moved at the sense of freedom and relief they must have felt to be speaking their native tongue. No searching for words, or tripping over tenses. This was their heart language, the language of emotions, metaphors, familiar slang and cultural context. I’ve done enough traveling in foreign countries to have experienced this phenomenon myself. Long train rides, full of banter and humor and news, but you can’t understand one word of it! And then, suddenly, you hear a voice speaking English and you are shocked and heartened to hear and comprehend! Oh how we all long to understand and be understood! The heart has its own language. God speaks our native tongue.

It is Pentecost Sunday! We celebrate the coming of God’s Holy Spirit. This event was evidenced by speaking to the nations in the language of their understanding. The language they learned and trusted as a child -- the deep language of the heart. What does this say about God? He is high and lifted up. He is often described as OUT THERE. But really, this gesture suggests that He wants to be IN HERE. Not exclusively, but inclusively. Not just in MY heart, but in all hearts. Present with us… intimate. Whispering in our ear words in our mother tongue.

Language is at the core of God’s love affair with humanity. In a world prone to be separated and torn apart by words and misunderstanding, God is joining us together by the same means. Genesis says hespoke the world into existence: “and God said.” The Gospel of John opens with: “In the beginning was theWORD.” Language is a symbol for intimacy and understanding; conversation and expression. St. John identifies Jesus as the incarnation of the Logos, this WORD of God, through which all things come into being. So, Jesus comes to us expressing God’s heart language to us. (Ah, the divine translator!) And the language He speaks is love.

So how do I want to walk through this Season of Pentecost? How will the Spirit flame up in me? What is translated out of the Acts of the Apostles to become the Acts of Judy? How can I communicate the love of God when – unlike God – I don’t usually know the true heart language of those around me? I’ve studied Spanish, French and Italian at different times in my life and I am not fluent or even conversant in any of them! I couldn’t even master pig-latin in grade school! How then, can I communicate and become more inclusive, making room for others? Especially those foreign to my way of being, speaking and thinking! Perhaps can learn from St. Paul who gave a beautiful language lesson to some very inarticulate Corinthians:

“What if I could speak all languages of humans and of angels? If I did not love others, I would be nothing more than a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” I Cor. 13

Lord, in this Season of Pentecost, enroll me in this language class! I want to learn YOUR native tongue! To practice the language that has the power to transcend all cultures and contexts. That Logos that can bring all things into being. Grace me with fluency!

Exponentially

by Julia Graves

This morning I spent several hours pulling weeds in the Labyrinth Garden at St. Luke’s. Leather gloves and hoe in hand, ready to enjoy the beautiful day God had provided. In surveying the area I noticed a small clump of forget-me-nots nestled between two shrubs. Some would consider this clump a weed; to me weeds are wildflowers out of place. They travel in on the wind or by animals, settle in, and take root. I think of a child blowing dandelion seeds, “wishes” I called them when I was a child, sending them to travel on the winds. To me this is how God’s love travels. One person’s love and compassion for others causes Gods love to multiply exponentially. John 13:34-35: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Got Righteousness?

by Kyle Wiseley

On two different occasions this week I happened to be part of discussion groups where the meaning of the term “righteous” or “righteousness” was discussed. One group was our Wednesday lectionary study group and the other was a group of older men who are on a variety of spiritual paths including Buddhist, pagan, Druid and Native American as well as Christian.

Not surprisingly some in each group voiced a personal distaste for the word. It is true that it has accumulated significant “baggage” over millennia of usage. One of the objections was that it implied self-righteousness or “holier than thou” connotations for the hearer. In recent years it has entered the vernacular of some parts of our subculture equating with the terms “excellent” or “awesome” if my personal interpretation is correct.

In the Psalm appointed for this Sunday we proclaim that the Lord shall judge the world in righteousness, but over the millennia since that concept was first enunciated by the psalmist, just what meaning can we attribute to the term?

I am reminded of an idea that springs from Jewish Talmudic tradition that at any given moment in time there are exactly twelve truly righteous individuals operating in the world. Presumably this distinction passes from individual to individual from moment to moment and is defined by purity of selfless intent and action. So, I am left to ponder, “when is it my turn?” and hope that at any given moment my own spiritual evolution is at a point where I can act selflessly and righteously when the opportunity presents itself.

So, I am not ready to abandon the term to the diminished meaning that it has acquired in our culture or to preclude the possibility that in a rare moment, only through the grace of God, I might be one of “the twelve”.

When will it be your turn?

Welcome Home! Grab a Seat and Come to the Table

by Reverend Jennifer Creswell

We’re seeing visitors at St. Luke’s these days. I can’t account for why anybody walks through the red doors of this church, but I do sense that we live in a world of seekers (myself included). We are all seeking something: love, community, safety, security, beauty, belonging, meaning, God. And I believe that God nudges us in the direction of the things we seek. For some of us, those things can be found inside the sanctuary of a little white church with red doors. Or outside in a garden under the shadow of Mt. Hood. Thanks be to God.

It’s with these visitors in mind that some slight shifts are being made in the way we do things at St. Luke’s. Far from weakening our identity, preparing for visitors actually strengthens it. For instance, Lynda Glander and I have been working on a new bulletin design that has more guidance and explanation than our current bulletin. As Maureen, our deacon, says, there’s nothing worse than walking into a new place where everyone knows what to say, and when—and you have no idea what they’re saying. Besides, some of the things we do every week in worship—listen to passages from scripture, share peace with each other, carry bread and wine from the back of the church to the altar—have become so much a part of our routine that we can forget why we do them.

Soon, you’ll see more people wearing nametags at St. Luke’s—you’ll probably be asked if you want to wear one, too. Knowing each other’s names is the first step in building community! And that’s what we do at St. Luke’s: build a community with its center in Christ.

When visitors come to St. Luke’s, we want them to feel like they’ve come home. Because God may just be calling them to stay in this community and make it their home. So, now is the time for a little house cleaning, a little preparation, to make our home ready for them. You’ll hear more in the next few months about plans for “cleaning house” and inviting the guests. The Church is more than a building—it is the people God has called together to be “home” for each other.

Your cook and cleaner,

Rev. Jennifer

Start from the Center

by Judy Bevilacqua

The other day, after a meeting at church, I started to get into my car when I noticed the weeds in the labyrinth garden. I felt like a neglectful mother! It was nine o’clock in the morning, the sun was out and the next thing I knew I was squatting in the garden, hands in the dirt, in my good shoes, pulling weeds. As I looked out at the desolation of an acre of overgrowth, a wave of discouragement swept over me. It looked like a war-zone, as overwhelming as the nightly news, the economy, poverty and injustice combined. I wanted to run. But instead, I just hunkered down in a 6-foot square of earth and chose gratitude for my attitude. Soon, I felt the sun warming my back, became awake to the sound of birdsong overhead and the noise of children at play. “This is the day the Lord hath made, let me rejoice and be glad in it.” Here was good work I could do, praise I could offer and strength I could receive. In a short time, a satisfying square of weed-free earth emerged. I looked over it and declared, like my Father once did in His garden, “it is good!” That morning the weedy wasteland became my blessing–place.

As I finished up, I glanced over at the labyrinth and decided to walk it before I left. I brushed my gritty hands over my pants, and clear as a bell, I heard God’s silent voice in my head….”start at the center.” What! Skip the walk in? “You ‘weeded in’ today…..all you need to do is walk out.” I had never done this before - skipped this ritual step - and it felt a bit illegal! Where were the labyrinth police? Shamelessly, I crossed over all the lines and went directly to the center, smiling as if God and I shared a guilty secret! Then, I slowly walked out - rejoicing all the way. Gardening with God was a lesson in both my limits and His liberation. An adventure in grace!

A few weeks earlier, a similar incident had happened to me. I had gone to the Cathedral downtown to hear Lauren Artress, a leading educator on the labyrinth. She was delightful and generous with instructive and humorous stories. During the morning, we were challenged to ask a question as we arrived at the center of the labyrinth: “Lord, what is at MY center?” As we adjourned to walk the Cathedral’s beautiful indoor labyrinth, I held that question in my heart. Arriving at the center, I sat silently for a long time. Finally, I reverently, nervously asked God…”Lord, what is at MY center?” There followed a long pregnant pause, then, no kidding, an ironic tone of voice inside me whispered: “I AM!” I wept. Then I laughed! - the sheepish laugh of the absent-minded! I was a little relieved. Ithought God would reveal to me some stinky compost rotting at my center, but instead, there He was, the Eternal Gardener, at home in my heart, hunkered down, tending my soul! So, lately I am trying to remember….start from the center.