Green Lake United Methodist Church

Taking a Good Look

I write to you this month at the close of a very rainy Ash Wednesday.
Every year, Christians around the world observe Ash Wednesday as they enter into the season of Lent, a time of contemplation and looking inward. In the words of theologian Walter Burghart, Lent is a time of “taking a long, loving look at the real,” at the parts of our lives and of our selves which we would sometimes prefer not to see. At our worship services today, we spent time reflecting on our human brokenness. We heard Jesus warn us, “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them” (Matthew 6:1), a good reminder that being seen in a good light is not really the point.
We were marked with ashes on our foreheads, a visible reminder of our shared, fragile humanity. As I looked at the grey crosses on people’s foreheads, I was reminded that the people around me were not perfect, nor would they be here forever. Seeing that symbol on people’s foreheads helped me to see them differently and, I hope, it will remind me this Lent to treat those people more tenderly.
I invite you, as we enter the season of Lent, to spend some time with me taking that long, loving look at what is real in your own life. Opportunities abound. On Sunday, March 20, I will begin leading a 9 a.m.  Bible study, encouraging this type of reflection.  On Palm Sunday, we will begin worship by joining a neighborhood processional around Green Lake itself, opening our eyes to the community around us. On Maundy Thursday, we will join together with Woodland Park United Methodist Church for a soup and bread supper, looking at the story of Jesus’ last supper with his companions as we look into the eyes of newfound friends. And throughout these weeks, you’ll hear opportunities to help people who struggle with blindness, both in our community and around the world.
This Lent, I invite you to look into your heart and into the world around you with the eyes of love. I encourage you to pay attention to what you see, to notice your wonderings and your discoveries. And I invite you, in the words of the old hymn, to “turn your eyes upon Jesus,” who has a delightful and disturbing habit of showing up, sometimes in the most surprising of places.

You just have to look.

May the peace of Christ be with you always,

Pastor Meredith

Let Your Yes Be Yes!
This past December, I received a phone call from the district superintendent, asking me if I would be open to a part-time position as pastor of Green Lake United Methodist Church. I said yes. I met with GLUMC church leadership, who also said yes. I cannot speak for church leaders, but from what I could tell, both of these “yes”es were heartfelt, joyous and filled with hopes for a new relationship. And now that we have all given our enthusiastic assent, we begin the deliberate and patient work of getting to know one another. Or, in other words, now that we’ve taken the plunge, it’s time to learn who we just married. So with that in mind, here are a few words of introduction about your new pastor.
I come from a family which moved around all the time, and growing up, I lived in Illinois, New Jersey, Kansas, Florida, Connecticut and California. Five years ago, my husband Mike (who is from Tennessee!) and I moved here to the Seattle area with the intent on making this our long-term home. For the past five years, I have been studying at Seattle University’s School of Theology and Ministry, and I intend to graduate in June with my Master’s of Divinity degree.
Before I entered seminary, I worked as a youth minister, a community college professor and a high school English teacher. Following God’s call has led me through several different states and a few different careers, but the journey has always included a passion for providing hospitality to strangers and for bridge-building and reconciliation, passions I hope to continue to share here at Green Lake.
As most of you have noticed by now, my family is also becoming part of GLUMC. Though we usually see him wrangling children on Sunday morning, my husband, Mike, works at Google developing software for cell phones and tablet computers. We have three little boys. Nathan, age six, is in kindergarten and especially loves reading, writing, drawing and playing with Legos. Adam, age three, loves being around people, will talk your ear off, and especially loves stuffed animals and running as fast as possible. Eric, age thirteen months, is already walking and loves wearing hats, babbling and keeping up with his older brothers. We are still living in Kirkland right now, once the school year finishes in June, we look forward to moving into the parsonage.
In this Sunday’s Scripture reading, Jesus tells his disciples, “Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil” (Matthew 5:37). My prayer as we begin our journey together is that we will say “yes” joyfully when we want to, say “no” clearly when we need to and together continue to discern the work God is calling us to do here at Green Lake United Methodist Church.
May the peace of Christ be with you all,
Pastor Meredith

Beautiful Ladies visiting all who pass as they sit in the piazza.

John T. WIlliams artist at work in Victor Steinbrueck Park at the Pike Place MarketEnjoying a day in the sun and talking with neighbors who pass by. Village life in Italy.Beautiful Ladies visiting all who pass as they sit in the piazza.

Context is so important in life, and the context of living on the streets is one place where context is most important.  For years I’ve had the great honor of serving folks in Seattle who live in poverty, some homeless and “living in the streets.”  But in recent history I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing life in an Italian hilltop village, where “living in the streets” is the norm when it is possible, where folks live their lives in community; in piazza, square, doorways, benches, walking and talking with neighbors.  It was an irony of life to spend a week in Italy and return the next day to a march in honor of John T. Williams in downtown Seattle, a native American who lived a life of Living in the Streets that encompassed both places.

Mr. Williams, a native carver, had been homeless for years, although he had been living in an apartment for a while before his untimely death by police gunfire August 30th.  Mr. Williams also truly lived in the streets as a place where he carved, met friends and strangers to whom he would sell his art.  If you spent any time around places like the Pike Place Market, Pioneer Square, or other parts of the urban corridor you have probably spotted him at some point, knowingly or unknowingly.  He would carve while sitting on park benches, or even walking, and sell from those places as well.  His workmanship was very well appreciated and folks would often traverse the city in search of him in order to purchase one of his fine carvings.  That he was shot while working on a piece of art with his artists’ tool, a wood carving knife, perceived to be a weapon is tragic, but what is more tragic is that living LIFE in the streets is seen as suspicious.

Just as the culture of the Italians is to live life outdoors and in public, so it is with native Americans.  For John Williams to stay safely within some walls, or the fence of a yard would have been out of place.  He spoke to long friends and made new friends in his life on the streets.  It is a life where relationships are maintained with personal contact and developed with personal contact, it is nothing short of living the Gospel of loving neighbor as self.

It appears that the police officer was scared, scared of someone who lived life differently, scared of someone he didn’t understand.  The reality is that he is the norm in our society, a society where we spend so much time in our homes, or in some small way self-isolating.  It is common for people in public to have headphones on, even Mr. Williams had headphones on, listening to music and completely unaware of the world around.  It is common for folks who really enjoy spending quality time in the yards of their homes to build fences to keep themselves in and other out.  It is common for people to live for years and never know their neighbors.  It is all sad, it is common.

As a pastor called to encourage others into discipleship, into following Jesus in sharing love and healing to a broken world, the first step we have to take is to Live in the Streets.  We must be willing to talk and share love with strangers, to make friends of those we’ve yet to meet.  To lend a hand when someone is struggling to walk, to accept a hand when we stumble.  We must be willing to simply Live with others, to move beyond the “stranger danger” fear that has become embedded in our culture.

It was nothing but blessing to spend a week sitting outside, reading a great book, chatting with new friends in Piegaro.  It was also nothing but blessing to walk the streets of Seattle mourning and remembering John T. Williams and praying for a time when Living in the Streets is a time for grace for all.

I look forward to a time when we can live fully in the streets; that the hungry will be fed, that the mourners can cry, and that people will know and love their neighbors as themselves.

Pepina out with the kids on a summers day visiting with us at the restaurant. Pepina is nona of the piazza, watching all kids who play.

Methodist Founder felt Tradition was important, Do we?

In the Methodist movement tradition is considered one of the 4 elements we stand on as a church:  Scripture, Tradition, Reason and Experience.  But our traditional memory often seems short, going back maybe 60 years, until the “good old days” of the 50′s when a post-war church boom was alive and well.  We remember when our Sunday Schools were full as well as our pews on Sunday mornings, we remember rummage sales, holiday pageants and potlucks.  These are fond memories that warm our hearts and take us back to a sweeter time.  But what really makes a time sweet?  Is it the focus on our needs, our wants, our desires?  The church of the 1950′s was doing an amazing job of healing a broken country in the aftermath of World War II, but at some point we felt that that this was our pinnacle, yet the traditions of the church which were set aside in the wake of needing healing, seemed to be forgotten, and what was self-care became self-serving.  We forgot our spiritual and sacred roots, we forgot the practices that nurtured communities of faith for centuries and were the hallmark of the Methodist movement.

One of the reasons that Wesley included tradition in his 4 principles, was his keen insight into inviting the wisdom of those who came before him into the fullness of faith that was essential to this movement that encouraged its people to worship in any church on a Sunday, but experience the fullness of a life of faith within spiritual “methods.”  Daily prayer, scripture and a gathering of small groups for support in a real world encompassing all from pain to joy, were the essentials for Methodism, this methodical group who encouraged one another in faith.  His greatest worry was that this movement would become institutional, forgetting who and whose they are.

But if we think woe to our denominational church, let’s face it, it is merely a reflection of a culture that has formed in this country of great newness.  We are one of the youngest nations, having pushed the natives of this land to the margins, and brought in new people for this new country.  As a good chef I know once said, “we don’t ask for a good restaurant when seeking a recommendation, we ask for a new one.”  We are a people who move from house to house on average every 3 years, who change our wardrobe on average of 6 months to a year as fashion demands, and who fill garage sales, thrift stores and land-fills with our cast-off “old stuff.”  We are taught by politicians, advertisers, and economic “experts” that we are not people, but consumers, who must buy, buy, buy new, New, NEW everyday in order to make things well, it is our responsibility.  Little room here to be informed by tradition.

Yet what does this all do for our sense of meaning and purpose?  It seems as if our culture is denying that there is a wide and awesome possibility of existence here in God’s creation, we lose some things that have been essential to human tradition, and more so, traditions of faith.  Our meaning and purpose get tied to things like economy, work, and “getting away.”  We are so dragged down by daily life that we need to get away.

This was precisely what our early founder was seeking to remedy with the foundation of Methodist practices, the grinding daily life that pushes us to get away, to seek what is missing in our lives.  Daily practices of communication in small groups where the highs and lows of life were not only shared, but all were surrounded by loving support of one another.  Where the greatest part of this circle of people was the awareness that God IS present, through prayer and spirit this was reinforced each day.  The constant reminder that One, mysterious, all-knowing, all-loving is always present.  God above all names is with us in times of trouble and times of celebration.

Wesley borrowed ideas for his faith groups, for his movement from the traditions of old, he did not invent something “new” in the 1700′s – it should be a reminder to us all that what worked so well for early Methodists was not even new then.  The essentials of tradition have as much to teach us now as then.

In the past months I’ve been writing much of my time in Italy, a land where people seem to be drawn to when seeking their souls, seeking deeper meaning.  Just look at the books and movies that are so popular these days: ” Under the Tuscan Sun”, “Eat, Pray, Love”, “A Thousand Days in Venice,” “Letters from Juliette”…..  What does Italy have that we don’t?   It has tradition, rich tradition that the people embrace fully, in their daily lives, in their food, in maintaining culture.  For me, coming from the life of pastor,  the greatest elements of this traditional culture was the life lived publicly, where all stories of life are shared among friends who consult, comfort, and celebrate with one another.  And of course, the amazing depth of worship, traditional celebration of the sacred, and the ever present witness to faith of the people via their art.  The wonder of the art was that it was often used as a means for social commentary, criticism of institutional church, and the awesomeness of a God beyond explanation.  Most Italians I met, even those who don’t formally attend church are intensely spiritual, it is a good place to seek spirit and healing.

In such a new nation, can we find a depth of spirit that seems to leave us seeking other places to find it?  Can we dig deeper into our souls to move us beyond the trappings of our culture into a sense of eternal that looks both the the past as well as to the future?  Can we reclaim in our churches and institutions the heart and soul of what was so alive in the early church, in the renaissance, in the reformation??  Are we desperate enough for depth of meaning to make profound changes in our world that take us back to what is so important, the Love of God, others and self – sustained in community???

Penicale Piazza Sacred Art

Papa Pio, Caretaker to the poor in modern Italy, a recent saint can be seen in many surprising places, a reminder of contemporary faith lived out.

Assisi Art

Gubbio Tower

Marie a most Courteous Clerk!

The Gang from the Back Row Before Worship

Marie is a very familiar face in our neighborhood, she works as a courtesy clerk at QFC grocery, she lives just a few blocks from our church castle, and she is a member of our congregation.  She knows soooooo many people in the neighborhood not only from her job serving customers at the grocery, but because she is always about the neighborhood and on our local buses.  Marie knows every barrista in the area and is frequently invited to area events because she is so well known and loved.

Marie has moved around the Seattle area since early childhood, but she and her mom Shirley returned to our neighborhood when purchasing a home because it was a place where she felt welcomed and cared for when she was a child at Green Lake Elementary.  In turn Marie now is a member of our children’s ministry team, caring for some of the youngest in our congregation.

One of the beauties of being in the neighborhood in so many ways is that Marie truly connects with some folks that seem to fade in an out of the neighborhood scene.  I can think of how a member of our congregation had been dealing with health issues, but Marie stayed in touch with them via the grocery, and staying connected to their family, even when they weren’t able to get out.  Marie has a gift, a skill, a charming way about her that keeps her connected and connecting our community.

I had the privilege of traveling with Marie to eastern Washington for a training and learning the depth of commitment and love she has for our community, stories of her friends at Bus Stop Espresso, Peaks Custard Shop and the folks she works with at our neighborhood grocery, stories peppered with laughter and joy.  Marie has that gift, to share her laughter and joy around the community as someone who is truly connected to the people that she meets each day!

How can all of us get more connected to the various levels of neighborhood we live in?  How do our lives reflect a sense of appreciation for the place we call home?  Why do we choose to live somewhere, is a spiritual sense of place that draws us in, a place of welcome, a place of beauty or something else, more or less?!?!?!  How thankful are we of the place we call home and the people we can call neighbor?

Marie, Playing with our boys in the nursery, caring for all!