July Song

By Carolyn Pinet

I should do more of this:

I shift perspective from

this lying-down chaise

and watch the shipshape clouds

imitate polar creatures while

the breeze sways the shining willow

and the beagle sleeps, one eye open.

It's an invitation to rethink everything, switch around brightly colored tiles and form a new mosaic undreamt of until now.

I gaze at the wild mint,

the plump lavender bush,

the green grass blades in shadow.

How come July has arrived

to surprise us with

new color, a new tune? -

covid's become corvid,

listen to that ancient,

insistent song!

The Reckoning With Racism Project

By Amy Lloyd

For years, I’ve heard complaints about yet ‘another DEI’ training. White girl though I am, such complaints hit my heart like daggers.

DEI, which stands for Diversity, Equity and Inclusion, refers to classes, trainings or workshops designed to help all of us to gain awareness of various identities and the implications of being one vs another identity within specific contexts. For example, white cisgender males will have a very different experience as an American than a white trans male or an African American woman and so on.

I was taken off-guard one day with a colleague who is African American, made that complaint. She explained that she’d never been to a DEI training that actually accomplished anything. They barely scratch the surface and often feel like a box for a company to check.

Years later, when I received an email from Pastor Laura inviting me to an anti-racism training, others’ dubiousness had rubbed off on me. By now, I’ve been involved in a handful of DEI and anti-racism trainings and workshops and yep, I’m always left wanting. I leave feeling like that white person who gets to pat themselves on the back because they sat through a 2-hour meeting in which they learned nothing and nothing in their life will ever change, least of all their preciously held limiting beliefs.

I reminded myself that this is Pastor Laura. She has never struck me as a waste everyone’s time, going through the motions, box checker.

Reviewing the material I’d missed in the first meeting that she shared with me, I knew I had to be a part of this. First, it’s not a 2-hour workshop but a 6-month commitment. Second, it’s not even just Pilgrim, but many churches throughout Oregon, Montana and Wyoming. This is what I’ve been naively expecting all along.

Where are we now?

The first assignment took me back to childhood. Growing up in the south, I’d wander around my farm, the surrounding fields of a commercial nursery, and the woods, imagining who lived there during times of slavery, during early colonialism, when the first white Europeans arrived in this ‘uninhabited’ land. What non-human animals? What plants? How old are these trees? Were they there then? It wasn’t lost to me that the men working the fields of the commercial nursey were all Filipino. So many centuries and too little change.

Our first assignment invited us to develop a kinship with the land. Walk the land. Meet the inhabitants.

[“We Shall Remain” video shared by Jillene Joseph – check out this video which was part of our first lesson]

Then to revisit with a zoomed-out focus. Sit with what we know about the land and also what we don’t know. Who lived here before colonizers? Are there other painful, hard to look at truths that long to be seen?

I arrived at Pilgrim on afternoon to join up with Pastor Laura, Danielle Rogers and Sarah Hollier to walk the land here at the church. Remember that crazy snowstorm in late March? We thought it’d be a great idea to tromp through the snow, post-holing thigh deep. I mean, that’s how things are done in Montana. How else would we come out to meet the land?

It was a lovely time of climbing out of deep snow with every step, of saying hi to the rocks and the lichen growing on them. To stand under the pine, appreciating its shelter. To make eye contact with the deer.

Then back inside to share our experiences, the acknowledgements we made, the questions that came up. This is what healing looks like.

Currently, we are diving into building a land genealogy of the land Pilgrim sits on and maybe to some extent, the larger Bozeman and Gallatin Valley area.

Here’s Where You Come In

I’m writing this to catch you up on what we’ve been up to because it’s pretty cool!

And also, to ask… what questions do you have about this land? What experiences, stories or people do you know that might be relevant that you could share?

Some of the questions we’ll be exploring are…

What pieces of the land story are hard to find? Why is that? Who benefits from them staying hidden?

What resistance or tension do we notice in ourselves as we learn hard truths?

How are we honoring the ‘both/and’ about the people we learn about?

What opportunities might we discover or create as a result of this?

Reach out to me with the experiences and stories you know that would support this project.

And let me know if you’d be interested in joining us on any local field trips we might plan as we’re conducting our research.

What’s Next?

Remember, this isn’t a 2-hour workshop. We’re in this for the long haul.

While the official nature of the Reckoning with Racism project concludes in June, we are just getting started.

The land genealogy alone will be ongoing. And then there are those inherent yet still unknown opportunities that we all get to flesh out.

This is the real deal. This is what it looks like to be doing God’s work. This is why I am proud to call Pilgrim, home.

Mountains

By Dilynn Wise

I forget that I live in a beautiful place. Living in a city, I get caught up in the next thing that I have to do, or the funniest new video that I just have to share with my Mom. I get really lazy, and drive down the block instead of walking or riding my bike. I will have no problem staying in my house all day, and making excuses to put off going out for as long as I can. I just drive. My only mission is to make it to my destination in the shortest amount of time possible. The aggravation of all the heavy traffic, and how it has gotten so much worse lately, makes me want to scream most days.

I forget that those mountains are there. I mean, yes I see them every day and I use them as my compass. But I don’t allow myself to really see them as they are, what they are in all their glory. When you are surrounded by something all the time you become blind to it and forget. The name for this is called perceptual blindness. I guess everybody does this at some point with something in their lives. Because you are used to it, and don’t realize that this thing is wonderous.

But there are times that I look up and am blown away. The view that is in front of me steals my breath. All I can say is "WOW". Which is profound all by itself. But sometimes that is all I can come up with to say. It is then that I feel ashamed that I have forgotten the fact that I live in such a beautiful place. These mountains that surround me are proud and majestic, I hope they are not offended by my inattention. A song that comes to mind while writing this has a line "… Deep in the shadow of the mighty mountain…" Mountains are these mighty things above us always, we just have to remember to look up.

Please look up. Look around and see the beauty that is all around and remember you live in a beautiful place.

The Journey

Some of you may know that I am spending two weeks on the road in support of a highly skilled bike racer competing in the Race Across America. Heather is a mother and physician who has also managed to build her personal fitness to a level where she can realistically plan to bike 250 miles per day, day after day, to achieve her goal of crossing America in under 12 days. We crew members devote our time to round-the-clock nutritional, medical, and emotional care. 

 This is a remarkable journey, in all ways. Today, we passed through Monument Valley and began the climb into Durango, Colorado. There has been astounding beauty and dire dinginess; there has been cowbell-clanging elation and tears of frustration and fatigue. On the first full day of riding, the generator running the air conditioner overheated and shut down, interrupting the precious 3-hour sleep time allotted to Heather each day with the searing heat of the Arizona desert. As her sleep attendant, I felt this setback as a personal failure. Our own sleep is in short supply as well. This is hard work.

Every day, I am given multiple opportunities to be irritated with others, to rue circumstances and regret errors that have cost us time, to wonder why I am not comfortably enjoying summer evenings from the deck of our home. However, this means I am also provided with multiple opportunities to choose how I respond to things that are not as I’d wish them to be -- not how they’d be if I got to be boss of everyone and everything!

 An article by Georgia Noble* calls aging “enlightenment in slow motion.” I think of this phrase often as I strive to embody my best self at this developmental stage of my life. I’m still learning to focus on what is, in this moment – not what should be, or what I wish was, but what is actually present in the gift of this moment. My late, lingering journey of enlightenment leads me back again and again to the same goals: letting go, accepting God’s sustaining presence, and resting in gratitude.

What is God’s gift to you, today, in this moment? How can you take a pause to usher in gratitude for the life you have been given? In Pastor Laura’s newsletter message this week, she describes her response to the wonderful life of our church and the beauty of a June evening: “I had to stand in the parking lot for a minute to breathe it all in. Sometimes the goodness of it all nearly overwhelms a person.”

Pause. Breathe. Thank God for the gifts of this good world.

* I was introduced to this article at the Soul of Aging retreat at Camp Mimanagish! Read about that fantastic experience at the Camp Mimanagish website. It takes place this summer August 27 – 31.

Comicon for Church Nerds

by Laura Folkwein

I am a self-professed “church nerd.” Growing up as a United Methodist (UMC) pastor’s kid, I taught Sunday School, went to camp, participated in conference youth leadership, and attended conference meetings. As a grade schooler, I met a couple of youth delegates at UMC Annual Conference, and promptly told my mom, “I want to be just like them someday.” So, it is it is no surprise that I am very excited about attending my first UCC General Synod as an in-person voting delegate this month in Indianapolis. I just heard General Synod described as “Comicon, but for church nerds.” Exactly! 

For the less church-nerdy, who may still be curious -- General Synod is an amazing and diverse gathering of representatives from United Church of Christ conferences and congregations across the U.S. We meet every two years. This year delegates will consider changing the schedule to every three years. In Synod plenary sessions, delegates like me will vote on resolutions presented to the church for deliberation and hear reports from our various ministry areas. This year, we are electing a new General Minister and President. Rev. Karen Georgia Thompson has been nominated for the position. She is a powerful preacher, an already established leader in the national church, and the first woman, and woman of African descent, to lead our denomination. Learn more about her, here: https://www.ucc.org/ahead-of-general-synod-gmp-nominee-thompson-shares-vision-of-hope-for-ucc/ 

Alongside formal business, delegates and visitors worship together (it’s beautiful and inspiring), hear from nationally known keynote speakers (like Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber and Ibrahim X. Kendi), go to special events, hear more speakers, and participate in a wide variety of optional workshops. My favorite part is connecting with longtime friends and colleagues, and meeting new ones (and leaving the conference in search of local food…). My second favorite part is the vendor hall, so I am also taking an extra bag and a book budget! 

Our Montana-Northern Wyoming delegation includes me, our Conference Minister, Rev. Dr. Tony Clark, our Conference Moderator, Hank Branom from Great Falls First Congregational Church, Rev. Charles Wei, the pastor at Plymouth UCC, Helena, and Rev. Lynne Spencer-Smith, the pastor in Great Falls. You do not have to be a clergyperson to represent our conference at General Synod, but you can imagine the challenges of taking nearly a week off from work and family if you are not a pastor who is including this as part of your work. Rev. Danielle Rogers from our church has attended General Synod multiple times, and she is a great person to ask if you have questions about what is happening.  

Synod resolutions can be an interesting business, and delegates are encouraged to read and prepare for voting ahead of time. Some of this year’s resolutions are: Celebrating the 170th Anniversary of the UCC Building & Loan Fund (since 1853) and Affirming both Licensed and Commissioned Ministry as Authorized Ministries of the UCC (ie. formalizing an already approved process for authorizing clergy who come to serve through other than traditional seminary routes.) With a shortage of clergy and the expense of seminary education, this is a way to continue to provide diverse leadership in local congregations. Our rural Montana churches and smaller urban congregations, and others, will benefit from the continued development of this approach. 

General Synod also always considers an array of social justice resolutions, called Resolutions of Witness. One thing I love about our church is that we aren’t shy about our opinions! The other thing I love is that we welcome a variety of perspectives. Even if the General Synod passes a resolution of witness, each conference, association, and congregation decides individually how/whether/if they take action in their own context. Our denomination is organized such that “the General Synod speaks “to, but not for” the United Church of Christ. 

Some of the Resolutions of Witness this year include: Denouncing the Dobbs Decision and Proclaiming Abortion as Healthcare; Closing the Digital Divide: Calling on the UCC to Seek Digital Justice and Inclusion; A Resolution Calling for a New Study by our Church on our Relationship with the Indian Boarding Schools and the Boarding Schools in Hawai’i; and a resolution urging reparations in Hawai’i, where the UCC participated in the harms of colonialism. You can see the full list of resolutions, here: https://generalsynod.org/proposed-resolutions.  

Part of my delegate work (and another one of my favorite parts, because it is a great way to get to know other people across the church) is committee work. I was assigned to Committee #9. Together, I and 15-20 assigned delegates will learn about, discuss, and offer amendments on the resolution entitled “Free from Plastic Pollution.” The resolution addresses the growing environmental challenge of single use plastics and calls on the United Church of Christ to “join environmental organizations, faith communities, and other concerned groups to take action to reduce the plastic pandemic that impacts and threatens life and God’s creation.” This resolution was submitted by the New Hampshire Conference of the UCC. If you are curious about the process for submitting a resolution, and who can do so, you can learn more here: https://generalsynod.org/resolution-submission-process. 

I think it is interesting that there aren’t a lot of resolutions about our theology or discipleship practices. As a denomination, we offer a lot of leeway to individuals and local congregations on religious expression and practice. However, with this theological flexibility, and a list of resolutions of witness, what makes us a religious denomination instead of group of activists and advocates? If one places the list of resolutions in the context of our denomination’s Vision statement, “United in Christ’s love, a just world for all,” or our UCC Mission statement: United in Spirit and inspired by God’s grace, we welcome all, love all, and seek justice for all, the puzzle pieces of all of the resolutions begin to fit together. The resolutions promote repairing harm that has been done, preventing more harm, addressing injustice and repairing areas of inadequate resource (such as the digital divide). Placed in the setting of communal worship, study, and connection across all of our differences, it begins to make more sense as a church body’s work. What would you want this gathered portion of the Body of Christ to deliberate over at this time in our history?  

This year’s General Synod special guest speakers, keynotes, and events include Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber, Ibram X. Kendi (author of How to Be and Antiracist and Stamped from the Beginning), Bryan Stevenson (Executive Director of the Equal Justice Initiative), a reception with the Stillspeaking Writers’ Group – the folks who write the UCC Daily Devotionals, and a celebration of women in ministry with the UCC’s Antoinette Brown Society. Folk singer-songwriters, Carrie Newcomer, is from Indiana, and she will be performing at an outdoor festival for all of us with the McLain Family Band, an award-winning Kentucky Appalachian bluegrass band.  

I don’t know if this sounds like “Comicon for church nerds,” to you, but I am packing my best conference outfits, reading resolutions, and signing up for workshops with enthusiasm! 

If you are even a little church-nerdy, you can keep up with General Synod online, starting on Friday June 30th, here: https://generalsynod.org/. You can get a daily email or two with Synod updates, by signing up here: https://generalsynod.org/contact-us.  

For a more personal perspective you can follow my social media. My professional page on Facebook is Rev. Laura Folkwein. There is also quite an active and fun Synod conversation on Twitter. Look for #UCCSynod, #UCCTwitter, or follow me @lfolkwein, for humor, (opinions), and individual takes on everything from the snacks, to the tech, to the inevitable juicy drama in committees and plenary.  

You don’t have to sign up or follow anything to keep me, our Montana-Northern Wyoming delegation, and everyone else at General Synod 34 in your prayers. I will share more with you on Sunday July 9th, in worship. That Sunday, we will also share Communion, our ritual connection with the Body of Christ in all places and all ages, which is less nerdy and more spirit-filled.   

Ponderings: Algorithm Gremlins or Teachers in Disguise?

By Susan Wordal

I’ve found myself on Facebook now and again, and some days I just scroll and check in with friends, while other days I find myself going down a proverbial rabbit hole depending upon what has been posted by friends or shows up on my feed. I’m never sure what the gremlins in the Meta-verse do to create the algorithms that populate my feed, but it’s interesting.

 Recently, an “ad” popped up for a t-shirt. I don’t often buy them for myself, but I like to look at the slogans. I used to buy my son t-shirts with somewhat sarcastic slogans on them. They were pretty good and would usually give me a chuckle. He often came home to tell me a teacher liked whatever shirt he had on that day. It was fun.

 Anyway, this ad was for a t-shirt featuring a partial image of Ruth Bader Ginsberg and featured the saying: “When injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty”. Now, for those who don’t know, RBG was an attorney before she was appointed to the federal bench, and before she was appointed to the US Supreme Court. She’s someone I liked on the Court but have learned more about in recent years. There is a fascinating conversation with Bill Moyers I ran across after I saw this shirt:

https://billmoyers.com/story/transcript-justice-ruth-bader-ginsburg-in-conversation-with-bill-moyers/ During the conversation, Moyers’ uses this quote and references the ‘60’s, when both he and RBG were more at the beginning of their careers than the end. I liked the shirt and the quote, and it was being held up by Michelle Obama in the ad, so that was even better (even if she wasn’t really holding it, but as they haven’t been forced to take it down, I guess she’s ok with it). I bought the shirt.

 When I opened the package, I took the shirt out, put it on a hanger and took a photo and put it on my Facebook page.  Then the strangest thing happened. The algorithms gremlins decided I was making a reference to a statement which has been falsely attributed to Thomas Jefferson. So, they put a gray screen over the photo with a link to a site for Monticello refuting this as a spurious quotation by Thomas Jefferson. (Hmmm…with RBG’s partial photo and her signature at the bottom???)

 Now, I may be an English Lit major and not a historian or a political science type, but I’ve read the Declaration of Independence and other documents from that time, and I know that the specific language isn’t something to attribute to Thomas Jefferson. He was a flawed individual, as many are in our history. He was someone who was the product of his upbringing and environment. He stepped out of the comfort zone of that time a little in his writing (while still acting much like others of his time and station. UGH!), but while some of his writing was forward-thinking, he still was flawed and did things that, from our perspective today, were not very credit-worthy. But one cannot deny that his prose in the Declaration of Independence went against the established thinking and continues to stand and inspire and educate. It charted a new course for a new union. And we have been pushing against the boundaries ever since.

 But I wondered if this had any relation to the function of religion. How does one take a phrase like: “When injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty”, and find within it a message from the Holy One? Interestingly, when I put the phrase into a Google search looking for a biblical passage, I came across an address given at the Vancouver School of Theology by guest speaker Professor Martin Rumscheidt on July 6, 2017, entitled “When Injustice Becomes Law - Resistance Becomes Duty”, Theology is Not Exempt. Given that Professor Rumscheidt was born in Germany in 1935 and moved to Montreal, Canada in about 1952, and only then really began to confront the legacy of Hitler and what that meant to his perspective on life and his relationship to others, this address is fascinating. https://vst.edu/2017/07/06/when-injustice-becomes-law-resistance-becomes-duty/ He talks about resistance as a verb not a noun. He points to John 14:6 “I am the Way, the Truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me.” And John 10:1 – 9 wherein Jesus is the doorway or the avenue by which one reaches God and not otherwise. (there’s something in there about entering a sheepfold by climbing in rather than entering through a door is akin to being thieves and robbers.) If you consider it, the point is: The Holy One has given us the path through Jesus Christ, and to follow a path of another that stands against the path offered by the Holy One we do not work in service to nor do we honor the Holy One, but that “other” who would lead us down the false path. Thus, we must resist those who would lead us to dishonor the right path by dishonoring those of a different faith, a different color, or a different gender. Sounds like the one commandment: Love thy Neighbor as thyself. If we consider that refusing to merge “the State” with “the Church” we embrace freedom for a more truly theological existence, then we have a “duty to resist”. Hmmm.

 Apparently, the algorithm gremlins decided that my using the photo of the t-shirt is ok now, because my profile photo now shows up without being blocked. (Or at least I think it does.) But it reminded me that we are never too old to learn new things and we are indebted to those who blazed trails like RBG. She was and remains one of those jurists who battled injustice. Not because of her religion or her gender (although both came into play during her career), but because injustice is injustice regardless of one’s color, gender, orientation, religion, etc.

 Lady Liberty is blindfolded for a reason, folks. And it is good to remember that when we consider what this union of imperfect individuals from every walk of life is meant to be. I’m an imperfect person in an imperfect world striving to live up to the vision and the obligations my citizenship requires. I will resist as a duty I owe to my fellow human beings in order that I may walk the path of justice. I just hope I don’t step off that path too often, or that someone will yank me back when I misstep.

 Thanks for the lesson, algorithm gremlins. This gray-haired lady will keep watching and learning. I hope others will be with me and will keep me on the right path.

Green/Verde

By Carolyn Pinet

More rain and the grass grows

more intensely green

while the lilac fades.

Everyone has quit the cafe,

I sit outside with two older dogs -

the en garde beagle barks at nothing.

The orange umbrella is open above me -

will it rain or shine on it?

Impossible to predict

on this early June day

with half the country on fire,

and many submerged in floods.

But here our green grass dazzles

beneath a feather-boa sky

and parking-lot puddles shimmer.

"Green, I love you green," sang Lorca

to greet his Granada spring - look around:

each green blade bristles, glimmers with moisture.

Cafe M, Bozeman. June, 2023

Love in an Unexpected Place

By Bruce Smith

Earlier this year Pastor Laura preached a series on finding love in unexpected places. I want to share our experience of one of those places.

Northeastern Democratic Republic of Congo, is one of the most troubled areas in Africa. The area is plagued by violence that developed after the Rwanda genocide. Now numerous militias rove the area raping and pillaging as they see fit. Goma is the major city sitting on the southern edge of the fighting. It was also the site of my first African mission trip. Goma has come on hard times. Left with little support from the far away capital of Kinshasa, subject to sporadic raids by marauding militia, experiencing economic hard times and damaged by a nearby volcano, it was a world far different than anything I’d experienced. Poverty was evident everywhere and our group was cautioned to always remain together to avoid possible unpleasantries. As the people repeatedly informed us, “Life is hard here.”

Months before Jeanne and I had been “recruited” by Pastor Levis, a highly spiritual visionary, to help in the continuing efforts to build an orphanage. We’d joined a small group from upstate New York to answer that call. Finally arriving after many hours of travelling, we found our accommodation with a lack of running water and few hours of electricity. We wondered what we had signed up for.

The next day our questioning continued as our battered Toyota crawled over barely passable “roads” to a partially built structure situated on rocky hardened lava with ramshackle houses around. Pastor Levis welcomed us, and we began our work and our experience of a unique expression of love. The work was very basic, clearing rocks, carrying bricks, and pulling weeds to assist a local work crew who, fortunately, were better masons than any of us.

As our time passed, I began to appreciate what was happening there. Pastor Levis and his wife Mimi were already running a mini- orphanage in their cramped, very basic home. In addition to their own children, they were somehow raising 13 orphans! We had the pleasure of getting to know these ragamuffins as we slowly progressed with building. We only completed the walls for the first and part of the second story before departing. At that point, Levis revealed that he was out of money but had plans for doubling the size of the original design. We left with doubts. Those doubts grew when a militia overran the area six months later.

But love has prevailed over the many challenges. The orphanage has been completed. Two wings, each of two stories, now house approximately 30 orphan children in what is probably the nicest structure in the neighborhood. Through his strong faith and the help of others, Pastor Levis has produced a striking demonstration of Christian love. That expression of love and faith exists in one of the last places you’d ever think to find it. Unexpected, you’d better believe it!!

What is Belonging?

By Kerry Williams

As a parent of teenagers, one of the things I find most baffling is how to negotiate the role of social media in their lives. There are the regular arguments that society continues to debate about the number of hours that kids are in front of screens (we were so proud of our family limits when they were little, but also wanted to navigate giving tweens a sense of personal responsibility and the chance to practice time management skills - did we balance that all correctly, who knows?) and the danger of disclosing too much online to those who would do harm, along with research being done on the hit to self-esteem that occurs by looking at everyone else’s curated posts and the possible exposure to radicalizing ideas and other destructive content (we hope we have given our kids the tools to make good discernments and the media literacy skills to question information, but it’s scary how sophisticated the technology is to skirt around even the most skeptical mind, so again, who knows?).

We run into time-worn tropes of privacy versus safety, which has existed since well before my own parents refused to allow me to have my own phone in my room. We are currently rehashing something that probably felt the same to my folks when the technology switched from a telephone that was plugged into the kitchen wall to the cordless telephone which could travel with a teenager to any room in the house. The stakes are higher, but the conflict is the same - where is the tipping point in holding on and letting go when we know our children are entering a whole new world that is running at a faster pace than we can keep up with? My struggle lately has been around the costs and benefits of social media. I have one child who is highly social, and since so much is being shared online, it is painful for him to miss any of that, to not be included in the dialog that is happening there. My other child is on the far other extreme, and for him online discussion and information is a lifeline into relationships that don’t come naturally through everyday interaction. Either way, the social aspect of technology isn’t in itself evil, and as often as I wish I could be parenting without this added dimension, I try to embrace the good that comes out of it.

I have been able to talk with my kids about the struggles I have with what pops up in my social media feed, and how hard it is to get out of loops of information that don’t serve me. It’s not a bad jumping off point for making decisions and following inspiration in the real world. I also have come across some some amazing perspectives that put something I have found true into words that make sense, and some really interesting ideas that have challenged my beliefs in a good way. One of my favorite Instagram accounts is @progressivechristianity, since they feature posts from so many different perspectives, and don’t expect any one person to agree with everything they put out there. I feel that they respect my ability to accept, reject, or grapple with any number of ideas being offered, and that they are not posting in order to cause debate so that they can garner likes, but are truly just opening up conversation so that mindsets can be expanded.

I really appreciate that kind of engagement, and it’s something that I also love about coming to Pilgrim. There is a sense of being grounded, a sense of “here is where we stand,” without a need to prescribe specific beliefs that everyone must agree upon. There is a sense of belonging amidst difference that seems so rare in these times, and I cherish that. I hope, and sometimes feel naive for it, that my kids find those spaces of inclusive belonging in their own lives as they move forward in both the online world and the real world.

I recently heard Brene Brown discuss the difference between belonging and fitting in, and it sure seems like we as a nation are having a difficult time figuring out how to manage this distinction. In fact, Brene says that "The greatest barrier to belonging is fitting in.” Here’s more: "Brown's research surprised her at first. She thought belonging was something people externally negotiated with the groups they seek to belong to. Brown said that when we 'fit in' as opposed to ‘belong,' we acclimate to the situation instead of standing for our authentic self. "We are more sorted than we have ever been in the history of the U.S. We have built ideological bunkers. We are more likely now to live with, worship with, and go to school with people who are politically and ideologically likeminded," Brown said. While logic may suggest that this 'sorting' results in more people feeling a sense of belonging, Brown warns these connections are 'counterfeit.’” For us to feel a sense of true belonging, we have to feel that our authentic selves are what is being accepted, not just the ideas in our heads or even the beliefs in our hearts. Time and time again Pilgrim walks this tricky path. As a church we show up and accept the messiness of being human. It’s difficult work, and maybe it’s why we’re here. I’m sure glad that my kids have had the example of Pilgrim in their lives, and I hope it can buoy them through all of the influences they need to navigate as they grow. It continues to for me!

Celebrating Community

By LeeAnn Swain

I was a bit late transitioning from the online service held March 26 to the online Zoom meeting coffee hour. I found I had to update the Zoom app to participate. That made me joyous! It had been so long since I had to attend a Zoom meeting during the height of the Covid 19 outbreak. I felt incredibly grateful. I also felt grateful that I could easily update Zoom and make it to the virtual coffee hour. After all, the folks at Pilgrim are unique and special. Those of us who attend, in person, or virtually, are privileged to bask in the reflective glow of the others. Yes, our thinking and assumptions are sometimes challenged, yet we are respectful of varying views. I like being left to wonder and mull over ideas. I enjoy my imagination being tweaked and pushed. Most of the time, we are able to have civilized conversations with each other which may involve opposing views. That skill set appears to have fallen into disrepair in wider public venues where accusatory language and inflammatory rhetoric are often used. I feel that the Pilgrim Community calls us to nurture one another on our spiritual paths. Sometimes, we even get to share the path with others. I so appreciate the Pilgrim community being present and witnessing for one another! Blessings!

Risen

By: Carolyn Pinet

Listening to Yo-Yo Ma play "Over the Rainbow"

to a humpback whale

off the coast of Hawaii's Big Island

raises my spirits in unimagined ways.

The whale spouts an inconceivable and showy fountain of water, and it sings along - is that just coincidence?  I want to believe it is entranced by Yo-Yo's plaintive and endearing "Over the Rainbow."

Meanwhile Toto trots along the beach,

convinced he will arrive at the Meaning of Life, and soon.

Yo-Yo is ;bobbing up and down in someone's boat, but, unfazed, he plays on:

the music imitates the waves

while the sea turns iridescent.

No wonder Jonah, mesmerized, lingered

inside that whale's immense body!

There's no way I can resist listening and watching:

all the rhythms of life seem at play -

Wallace Stevens knew it, so did Emily,

and now I do: I look and listen, entranced, and, for once, I'm convinced that, at last, I am hearing what rings true.

Ponderings: Margaritaville and the Telephone Game

A recent sermon hit a note with me when there was mention of the origin of a word or name in the Bible. It made me think about how, over time, the various versions of the Bible have relied upon different words and different phraseology in an effort to make the stories and lessons of the Bible more understandable. It’s why, when you take different versions of the Bible and compare them, some of the stories seem to be telling decidedly different tales.

It also made me think about an old game we used to play called “Telephone”. I’m sure some of you may even remember playing this game. A person leans over and whispers into the ear of the person next to them a phrase of some sort. Then the person next to the first relays the phrase to the person on their other side and so on until it comes back around to the last person in the group. That person is usually sitting or standing next to the one who started the whole thing. The last person has the dubious honor of stating the phrase out loud. I don’t think I’ve ever played this game and had the phrase sound anything like its original phrase. And generally, hilarity ensues.

Clearly, you can see where my mind went when it comes to the discussion of the origin of words and phrases in the Bible and whether those words and phrases were originally part of the story. The stories, in their written form, were not necessarily written by those who were telling them, but by others who heard these stories, often told around a table or fire, much like you might imagine other cultures or tribes of people passed down stories. Invariably, the stories were told by the elders of a group, and in the telling, much like in the game of Telephone, some things became distorted. That, coupled with the derivation of words, and the tendency to try to translate into something that makes sense “at the time” for those likely to read the story, can result in some interesting tales which may or may not have any true connection to what really happened. Then again, maybe I’m cynical after years of cross-examining people whose stories don’t make sense. You never know.

There’s an expression you often see on bumper stickers and the like: The Bible says it, I believe it, That settles it. Now, in my profession we rely greatly on what’s written in a contract or a statute. But this one is an expression I have serious doubts about given what I know about the many translations of the Bible and the stories which come out of our oral history. I tend to take such things with a grain of salt. My blood pressure doesn’t always like the amount of salt in my diet, but that’s a topic for another day.

So, as you consider your day, may you look back fondly at your experiences with the game Telephone. And may you take most things, including stories labeled “nonfiction” with varying degrees of salt.

Margarita with salt, anyone?

The Value of the Unread Book

By: Kerry Williams

Like many of us, I took full advantage of the Library’s renovation and checked out multiple stacks of books which lined all manner of surfaces in my home over the past six months. It was perhaps the most selfish favor I have ever done for someone. Really? You need me to bring home as many books as I can and just keep them for months on end? Twist my arm! I loved the freedom it gave me to throw my reading list to the wind and grab whatever looked good without worrying about whether I’d finish one book before starting another. I loved having a personal library just sitting there waiting for me, books of all sorts ready to match whatever mood I might be in at any given time. It wasn’t so much that I needed an abundance of choices, but rather the space for trial and error. Normally I feel the pressure of only having enough time on earth to read the most meaningful books, which causes me to prioritize and stay focused on the list that grows ever longer. I know that the library is always there with any book I need, but when I go to search for a new book, I pull out my “must read” list and feel immediately overwhelmed. With the request to help empty the shelves so that remodeling would be easier, I still referenced my list, but this time it felt expansive, since I could grab a random assortment of titles I had heard were worth reading without making an assessment about the correct order to tackle them, or even the likelihood of finishing them all. Having so many good books lined up in front of me also meant that any book I chose to read was a good choice, and any book I set aside didn’t plague me with guilt. I even picked some up, read a chapter or two, and decided I didn’t want to read it. That’s right, I gave myself permission to reverse a decision I’d made. Some of you may be thinking, what’s the big deal? You started reading something you didn’t like and put it back down, it’s only a book. Yes, I would like to think that, and yet…my whole life I’ve held the belief that there is a correct way to do things, not so much for others but for me, and it is very hard to convince myself otherwise. I give everyone else the license to approach life in any way they see fit and change course when they desire, but I am only allowed to stick to a prescribed path. Over time, I’ve encountered enough situations that have challenged this belief, and I have broken free from some very large expectations I had set for myself, but somehow remnants show up in small inconsequential decisions like how one should read books. It is only when confronted by a radically different approach that I am able to recognize the unnecessary restrictions I sometimes set on things. The wonderful news is that practicing letting go makes it easier to actually do so, and I am thrilled with the notion that I will ease up on myself and that never-ending book list. Will I toss it out completely? No way! But I like to think giving myself grace in this area will ripple outward and help me embrace ease and joy on a larger scale. I got the notice from the library this week that books are due back, and I haven’t even read half of what I checked out for that extended loan period. There are a few books that I’ve already returned without a second thought, but I’m going to renew at least a couple that I would miss not reading. So here’s to giving yourself permission to stray from the script, here’s to giving yourself grace in the face of high expectations, and here’s to things gladly left undone - may we all find ourselves able to move on a little lighter in the world.

Play-Doh-Re-Mi

By: Dilynn Wise

Play-Doh was originally made to remove marks on walls made by various bumps and swipes, as well as "art" from children. But like a lot of things, its intended purpose is not what it is used for now. Now it is a medium for creative play by children, and adults who don't “wanna” grow up.

After awhile the "dough" dries out and becomes all crumbly and yucky. Like with a lot of things, the use and enjoyment comes to an end. (Or does it??) This can be something to sing a sad song about, or simply unimportant and we move on to play with the next toy.

To “move on” and “get over it” are hard things to learn. And yet, Nature does it all the time. Actually, it just transforms into something else or something better. When the snow finishes melting it is time to move on, and distract us with a different toy. Can we say “mud pies”?

Go on and find something to play with. And maybe someone will fix the Play-Doh so the young and the young at heart have something to play with again later...

Golden Carrot Winner: Kate Huston & Anderson School

Written By Ali Thornton

April 14, 2023

We are proud to present our second Golden Carrot Award to Kate Huston and the staff at Anderson School for their commitment to making the school cafeteria a space where students can comfortably explore their boundaries with food, eat delicious local, scratch-cooked meals, and be part of a vibrant school community!

Kate grew up around gardening and food, which she has carried throughout her entire career. From working in the produce section of the Bozeman Co-Op to learning about the farm to table movement as a a farmer with a small CSA operation, teaching and starting a gardening program for her students, and operating a catering business, Kate has always strived to include local food into whatever she is doing.

In 2022, Kate became the Food Service Director at Anderson School. She says the job fell into her lap, but she couldn’t be happier! It’s the job she plans on retiring with.

In the first year, there was a steep learning curve; despite her impressive background, Kate didn’t have any food service experience and she had to familiarize herself in a new kitchen space and cooking environment. She said the biggest struggle that first year was learning how to navigate OPI and new software systems. But that didn’t stop her from making change in the cafeteria.

In the first year at Anderson, Kate not only reimagined the school food menu, but reduced the cafeteria’s pre and post food waste to zero, created zero plastic waste at the salad bar, and started scratch cooking meals, including the soup options! But Kate didn’t stop there.

This year, Kate has worked to incorporate as much local food as possible, including using the Montana Marinara sauce and creating a partnership with Pioneer Meats. Her goal is to highlight small farmers and ranchers across Montana who may not have access to larger markets. Kate has also worked to continue to push students’ boundaries with food by cooking recipes from around the world, including recipes from Europe, South America, and Africa. Of course there have been some challenges along the way, but if even one student says they tried and liked the new food, she’ll reintroduce it on the menu. This has encouraged kids to keep trying new foods and Kate has had a large success rate through this process. Meanwhile, Kate has also made sure that each recipe has zero added sugar or sodium, to ensure both teachers and students can have a productive day of learning.

Kate isn’t done though: she still plans on reimagining the school cafeteria space. By the end of this spring, Anderson will finish building three school garden beds and a site to grow the Three Sisters. She plans on using these gardens to grow produce for the cafeteria and aims to have the salad bar comprised of 50% local food by 2024. These school gardens will also double as an education space: Kate has a three-year plan to continue to build and develop the gardens, so that by year three, each grade at Anderson will have their own school garden program, which will contribute to the food in the school cafeteria. This isn’t her only initiative of getting kids involved in the school cafeteria though: she’s created a program through Extension to have the 8th grade students meal plan, order, cook, and serve an entire meal for the school to teach them leadership and cooking skills. She also currently has each class develop a ‘dream lunch recipe’ each week, that has to meet nutrition standards, which she randomly chooses to incorporate into the following week’s meal plan.

Kate has a strong food philosophy, which Anderson has readily supported:

Kids should eat well, try new foods to push their boundaries in a safe environment, and know where their food comes from.

No child should ever go hungry.

We should support and celebrate our state’s amazing farming communities that are underutilized, especially in schools.

None of this work happens alone. Kate says it’s a whole community effort in the kitchen, from her amazing staff and parent volunteers to support from the school itself. They all work as a cohesive team where communication and respect for each other are paramount. This shows in the lunch line, where the food service staff and volunteers work like a well-oiled machine and students and school staff readily line-up for lunch. The comradery between everyone is palpable and truly something special.

Kate is extremely proud of her team and the work they do, and will continue to do, in the school cafeteria. Her advice to other food service staff, especially to those working in rural communities and schools? Realize you’re not alone. Ask questions, reach out for support, and take ownership of your program.

Kate has graciously given us permission to share her contact information to anyone interested in learning more about what she does and to create a support network for food service staff across the county. If you would like to reach out to Kate, email Ali at ali@gvfarmtoschool.org and she will connect you.

Thank you to Kate, her staff and volunteers, and Anderson School for all the work you do!

Reprinted With permission from Gallatin Valley Farm to School

The Love Mandate

By Emily Heath

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” – John 13: 34-35

No one really uses the word “maundy” anymore in their daily lives. Which is why today can seem a little murkier than some of the other holy days in Lent. We get Ash Wednesday, and Palm Sunday, and Good Friday…but what’s “Maundy Thursday”?

The word “maundy” comes from a Latin word: mandatum. And mandatum means “mandate” or a “commandment.” And when we talk about “Maundy Thursday” we’re talking about “mandate Thursday.” We’re talking about the night before he died, when Christ told his disciples exactly what he expected them to do next.

And if you read a book or watch a movie about almost anyone else, you might think the lead character right about now would be saying something like “avenge my death” or “make sure there’s payback” or “don’t let them get away with this … strike back.”

But this isn’t any other story. This is a story that turns everything on its head. Instead, the mandate that Jesus gives is this:

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

It’s not my job to rename Christian holy days. But if it were, I might change the name of Maundy Thursday. I might change it from this word that none of us really know anymore to something we would all understand. Something like “Love One Another Thursday” or “The Last Thing Christ Really Wanted Us to Know Thursday.”

There’s a song that many of us learned as children: “and they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love…and they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”

It might not sound all that radical…but it is. It’s a song that reminds us of Christ’s true mandate. And it’s still the gauge of how well we are following him. Because, if we take Christ’s word for it, love is more than our mandate as Christians. It’s our calling card.

Prayer

God of love, help us to remember the mandate that Christ has given to us, on this sacred Thursday, and always. And God, may they know we are Christians by our love. Amen.

About the Author

Emily C. Heath is the pastor of West Dover Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, in West Dover, Vermont. She also serves as the chaplain of a local fire department, and as a speaker and writer on Christian faith and social justice. This reflection was originally posted on the United Church of Christ’s website as a Daily Devotional from the StillSpeaking Writers’ Group: https://www.ucc.org/daily-devotional/ on April 17, 2014 and accessed on March 21, 2023. Used with permission.

Look For The Shepherd

By: Carolyn Pinet

Edis fingers her strings and sings

"There is only love."

Pastor Laura has us search for the shepherd

as sun pours through high windows

on this March morning poised

between winter and spring.

The blind man's story goes unsung

except in John's gospel where

Nicholas, transported,

beholds a dazzling miracle!

"The gospel grows among outlaws and sinners,"

Eyes open wide in surprising places.

Here we live in "flyover country"

with more sheep than pastors

and lambs in spring snow.

Which of us lowly, forgotten,

hears the song of the shepherd,

or blind, begins to see?

Now Edis sings of the power of kindness.

We join and raise the spirit -

O hear our hymn of hope!

For Edis Kittrell who sang

"Welcome to the Circle" &

"Poem of Kindness."

Pilgrim CC, Bozeman, March 19, 2023

Poem of Perfect Miracles

By Bruce Smith

Lately, I’ve been reading a good bit about biological wonders and a variety of remarkable scientific discoveries. Having gone very lightly on science after high school, these have been a mind-expanding experience. Some facts stretch the imagination to comprehend the entwined vitality, unsuspected intelligences and incredible adaptations found in our natural world. Even mosses and lichens have remarkable stories to tell!

Last night I came across this poem and thought it caught a sense of the wonder and miraculous nature that exists all around us. If we take the time to appreciate, perhaps we can join Walt Whitman in his sense of awe and appreciation. Hope you enjoy it!

As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,

Whether … I stand under trees in the woods

Or watch honey bees busy around the hive …

Or animals feeding in the fields …

Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air …

Or the wonderfulness of sun-down --- or the stars shining

so quiet and bright

Or the exquisite, delicate, think curve of the new-moon in May,

Or whether I go among those I like best, and that like me best –

Mechanics, boatmen, farmers

Or among the savans or – to the soiree – or to the opera,

Or stand a long while looking at the movements of machinery,

Or behold children in their sports,

Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or the perfect old

Woman.

Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to burial,

Or my own eyes and figure in the glass,

These, with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,

The whole referring – yet each distinct and in its place

To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,

Every inch of space is a miracle,

Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,

Every cubic foot of the interior swarms with the same;

Every spear of grass – the frames, limbs, organs, of men and women

And all that concerns them,

All these to me are unspeakable miracles.

Walt Whitman 1855

And can you imagine what Whitman would make of discoveries we’ve since made in trees, fields, insects, space, machinery, and human biology since 1855!! More miracles than he even imagined!!

Dydd Gwyl Dewi Hapus/Happy St. David's Day!

By: Carolyn Pinet

This day dawns cold and bright

but "all through the night"

I dream of the land of my birth,

of the frilled, white-capped sea

and of the loamy green earth.

Today, as I walk abroad,

I see a Pilgrims' haunt,

deer in the snow,

a host of twittering birds on the wing.

A male-voice chorus is

raised up from the mines

and all hearts lift and sing.

"Be joyful and do the little things," St David of Wales

(Today the male voice choirs are singing all over Wales. South Wales is mining country.)

Montana, My Montana

By Susan Wordal

I was reminded the other day of a joke I heard from my Dad many years ago. Dad wasn’t much for telling jokes, but the ones he did tell were generally good ones.

A fellow decided to write a book about famous churches around the world, so they began their tour of churches in Europe.

On the first day, the Writer was inside a cathedral taking photographs when they noticed a golden telephone mounted on the wall with a sign that read “£10,000 per call”.

The Writer, being intrigued, asked a priest who was walking by what was the purpose of the telephone.

The priest replied that it was a direct line to heaven and that for £10,000 you could talk to God. The Writer thanked the priest and went on his way.

As the Writer moved through the great churches, and some local ones, throughout Europe, the Writer saw the same golden phone with the same type of sign.  When the Writer asked, they got the same answer: It was a direct line to heaven and for the equivalent of $10,000 you could talk to God.

The Writer returned to the US and began visiting churches while making their way home to begin working on the book. In every church the Writer again saw the same golden telephone with the same “$10,000 per call” sign under it.

The Writer arrived in their home state of Montana and stopped in at various churches as they drove through the state.  The golden phone was the same, but the sign below it was “10 cents per call”.

The Writer walked into their home church and found the newly installed minister, an old friend from their days as undergrads.  “I’ve traveled all over Europe and the states and I’ve seen this same golden telephone in many churches. I’m told that it is a direct line to Heaven, but in other places the price was $10,000 per call. Why is it so cheap here?”

The old friend just smiled and answered, “You’re in Montana. It’s God’s Country, my friend – it’s a local call”

Now, I might have taken a little literary license with the language (especially since if you check on the internet, the state is often referenced as Texas) but I’ve always liked this joke. I suspect all those I know who are native Montanans, or those who have adopted Montana as their home, appreciate the take on “Big Sky Country” and our ready access to the open sky of the Treasure State, and the feeling we are in a place where you can easily commune with God or can access that space which speaks to your inner being and allows us to find our spiritual center. I’ve visited other states and even had the chance to visit other countries, and Montana has always called me home. The Alps may have made me feel dwarfed, but their majesty did not do it for me. Montana’s mountain ranges are “it”.

There is much to “treasure” in this state of my birth and that of my parents, and even my grandparents. But the treasures to be found have less to do with the copper and gold exploited by our settling forefathers (the Copper Kings) than they do the abundant natural beauty to be seen and experienced as we walk and camp and drive through our state. It calls out to us in a way nothing else really does.

This reminds me of a song from Manhattan Transfer: Operator.  The important parts of the song go something like this:

Operator…Give me Information.

Information…Give me long distance.

Long Distance… Give me Heaven!

…I’d like to speak to a friend of mine.

Oh, prayer is the number, faith is the exchange, heaven is the street and Jesus is the name.

Some hear the music, and some the roar of the river, and others just enjoy the blessing of silence. Whatever it is that calls to our hearts, know this - - - the phone call is free! And someone is sure to be listening!