Category: Video

My newsletter this week includes a release of a report prepared by our Reservoir Equity Diversity and Inclusion team, known as REDI. REDI is an advisory team to help our staff listen, think, and act to become a healthier church of more profound belonging for everyone in our community, across their full range of experience and identity. 

I’m so thankful for each person on the team – Brian Kang, Michaiah Healy, Ian Jackson, Cara Foster Karim, Tara Deonauth, Michelle Phillips, Sue Rosenkranz, Alex Coston, and Lydia Shiu – and for the time, energy, and skill they are investing in our church becoming the beloved community we fully dream of being. A couple of years ago, when our Board first talked about commissioning this team, we didn’t know exactly what would first emerge, but I’m thrilled by the ways our REDI team is listening to our congregation and working with other leaders in our community to make us a church that is more whole, that is worthy of the time and trust of everyone involved.

We are a community who believes all people are made beautifully in God’s image and that God is so in love with us all that God became one of us. So to tend to the safe and equitable experience of belonging of all members of our community is core spiritual work for us. While the rest of my comments will focus on our church, I’ll add that I believe our work to make all our communities places of safety and belonging for all people is a critical call on each of our lives. 

When you read this report, you’ll read about some beautiful experiences of belonging at Reservoir. We’re thrilled that so many people have found our community to be a place where their story is treasured and their voice is heard. But you’ll also hear times and moments when people felt excluded, misunderstood, or marginalized among us. I hope you can hear these voices as I do: with tenderness, with sadness, and with hope that we can do better. While less than half of the adults active in our community had the chance to complete this survey, I think the experiences shared are important and representative. 

The report ends noting some work already underway in our community as well as recommendations for more. Lydia Shiu, one of our pastors, and a co-leader of the REDI team, has done a fabulous job keeping me and her other colleagues informed about REDI discussions and hopes, and I want you to know that all three of REDI team’s recommendations are consistent with my hopes and our staff team’s thinking. I am glad that each of our church staff are supportive of this work in our church as well. In fact, everyone now has an annual anti-racism goal as part of our work plans, which will continue next year. 

At the heart of the bad news of this world, we know that people are marginalized and done violence in many forms because of their race, creed, class, culture, gender, sexual identity, sexual orientation, and more. As a church in America, we face some uniquely horrible legacies around white supremacy, patriarchy, misogyny, and LGBTQ discrimination in our faith and in our institutions. Yet we proclaim again that central to the good news of Jesus, we are told that we are all known and loved by God, and that we are all called to the work of healing, justice, and repair in our lives and in our communities. I hope that this report inspires you to your own part in that work and gives you some appreciation of the journey your church is on as work toward Jesus’ vision of beloved community for us all. 

Peace, Love, Courage, be yours today,

Steve

Hi, Friends.

A couple nights ago, we had our first of three presidential debates as we head into our final month of campaign season this year, so I’d like to say a couple words about church and politics.

1. None of our politicians are coming to save us. I addressed this at greater length in a sermon last fall, so I’ll be brief. History and our faith make it clear that people and systems of power are often corrupt and self-serving. Additionally, the best and most beautiful work of God revealed in Christ is not accomplished through our political rulers. Some political choices do far more harm, others far more good, but none of them can do as much good as they promise. And love and justice and mercy can find a way even when the worst of them prevail. 
2. People in your communities hold views that you don’t share, perhaps even that you find shocking or abhorrent. That’s likely true in your workplace, your extended family, and your church. I’m not saying that all viewpoints or political stances should be offered respect. Some do great harm. But all people in our communities, particularly here in our church community, are children of God trying the best they can. Please don’t assume everyone in your community group, for instance, sees the world as you do, and please exercise what kindness, curiosity, and humility you can if and when difference is discovered. This is part of the radical love we are called to in Christ. And love has changed more hearts and minds than disdain, shame, and arguments have. So speak your truth, tell your story, but please do so with respect for one another.
3. Lastly, leaders in your church and your pastors have opinions, but we try to operate in the prophetic tradition, not a position of political expertise. The prophetic tradition of our faith tries to connect God’s heart and mind with contemporary injustice. Our church engages in a local interfaith social justice coalition on issue-based change along these lines. Our pastors, myself included, make comments about practical expressions of the way of Jesus in the world. This is part of Jesus-centered community, to seek to see the redemptive work of God not only in our private lives but in our shared public world. Reservoir, though, doesn’t take collective policy or partisan stances on how government should operate or the precise ways our members should seek to follow Jesus in public life. In very rare cases, such as the candidacy and presidency of Donald Trump, I have criticized the immoral, inhumane conduct, speech, and policy of a political leader. That again is part of our prophetic tradition. But still, the church doesn’t endorse particular candidates or parties or systems of change. We pray for and seek the good of our city and world together, encouraging us each to soberly and earnestly do the same however we can. 

With all this said, I encourage you to pray for our world and nation, to be active for good and healing and justice wherever you can, and to love your neighbors near and far as yourself. And as you do so, fear not.  God’s good news and redemptive work in the world isn’t riding on any one news cycle or election. With the help of God and friends, we’ll get through together.

Peace, Love, and Courage be yours today,

Steve

From Steve Watson: This wasn’t the summer any of us wanted. And the fall, well, we’re just starting to figure out what that’s going to look like, and it’s got its ups and downs ahead to be sure. Can I encourage you to try one thing in the next month, if you haven’t had the opportunity to this summer?

Take a break. Take a moment of restorative rest, what the Bible calls sabbath rest. And then ask yourself – or your partner if you have one – how you can keep doing this? 

Sabbath is a Hebrew word that means rest. In Judaism, it’s a weekly opportunity to stop our work and make space for rest, worship, and renewal. Sabbath is one of the ten commandments, which tells us that rest is central to a good life, to a life that honors God. In one of the ten commandments lists, we’re told to rest because we were meant to. When we break our rhythms of endless work and activity, we restore the order of creation. We rediscover something about life as it was meant to be. In the other records of the ten commandments, we’re told to rest as a reminder that we are free – that we’re never to submit ourselves to bondage, even bondage to our personal work or our busy-ness, even bondage to the collective, systemic burdens of an over-busy world and an over-driven economy. 

Our staff team at Reservoir is taking the week of August 24-30, Monday through Sunday, as a sabbath week. It’s been a hard year, and I gave the team the week off for whatever would most bring people rest and renewal. I’ll spend more time with my family, more time outside, and linger longer over morning prayers and reading. As a team, we won’t be having meetings. We (probably) won’t be checking our email. We’ll be less available to you, and we’ll be pre-recording the August 30th Sunday service and dropping it on Youtube for us all. The teachings will be on how we find sabbath rest.

If you’re able to do such a thing yourself, if you have unused vacation time you can take in the next month or so, can I strongly encourage you to do so? We don’t need to travel to enjoy sabbath rest. And if you don’t get vacation time, if your life as a working parent or a single parent or an hourly worker or a graduate student seems to afford little opportunity for rest, can I encourage you to get creative? 

Some ideas that friends of mine or I have tried that have brought us some measure of rest, freedom, and restoration, and that are possible even under current circumstances:

• A day where our phone and computers stay off, all day.
• Some extra time outdoors.
• A walk with a friend, even if that walk requires social distancing. 
• If you have kids at home and have a spouse or partner, giving each other a day off(or even half a day off!) from any chores or childcare. 
• A long, leisurely bike ride, or a visit to a green space you’ve never gone to.
• Carving out a quiet hour or two to try a new spiritual practice. (We keep loads of these on our website – here’s one spot. 

Hard years require deep souls. 

Hard times require rested, renewed people. 

If you’re worn down, please ask where you can find more sabbath in your life. And if you’re stuck and feel this is mysterious or impossible, let me know. I’d love to brainstorm with you!

Meanwhile, much love and peace and courage be yours today.

Steve

In early July, during a time of prayer for our church, I had this idea come to me with clarity – that I should walk the perimeter of several communities our church serves, praying for the people and concerns of the communities as I do so. “Should” is the wrong word really. When I pray, sometimes I have a strong intuitive instinct for an idea or an action. I trust these as emerging from the Spirit of God in me. Some people call this kind of thing “God speaking to them.” Whatever you call it, if Spirit of God is with us, it’s beautiful to learn to pay attention to that presence.

Why I Walk and Pray

These two pictures capture the subtle difference between two different ways to walk and pray, only one of which works for me. The day was hot, muggy, with temps rising into the 90s, so I was dressed casually. But I got ready to bike to the Cambridge border to begin my first walk around Cambridge, wearing the stole of an ordained clergy person, as I was praying as a pastor on behalf of the city. But I remembered that these stoles have their origins in the vestments of Roman imperial officials, later copied by pastors and priests, to signify their position or power. And I thought – that’s all wrong for my prayer walks. So I replaced the stole with a basic kitchen towel. One, I didn’t want to sweat all over my friend’s stole I’d been borrowing and I could use a towel to mop all my sweat on this day’s 12-15 mile walk. But two, I walk and pray not doing anything imperial. I’m not claiming land or people for Jesus, not doing spiritual battle in that sense. (If that makes no sense to you, know that there is a whole bunch of prayer teaching that has this kind of martial attitude.) That’s not my style at all. I walk and pray to learn about a place, and to pray for what I learn. I walk and pray because I have ADHD and I just think better while I’m moving. And I walk and pray because I have a theology that says God walks with us and God can be found everywhere, so when I walk and pray, I believe God is ahead to me to be discovered and that God at the same time walks with me, helping me see and learn and shaping my heart as I do so.

Cambridge – Power to Heal or Destroy

I started my prayer walk just across the JFK Bridge from Cambridge, in front of a field by the Harvard Business School, where Napalm was first tested. Napalm was the stuff the U.S. used to fire bomb Japanese cities during the final year of World War II and used to firebomb Vietnam some twenty-five years later. It was invented by Harvard chemists, with some help from Dupont, under commission from the U.S. Air Force. And it was used to kill hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of Japanese and Vietnamese civilians, and to burn many houses and cities, and despoil forests and ecosystems. It was tested in a whole dug into this soccer field, or one of the other ones nearby. Cambridge – with its premier research universities and large and influential technical and pharmaceutical companies – is a city of enormous influence and power. So I prayed again and again that God would raise up more of us, made in God’s image, to use our power and privilege to heal, not to harm. And that God would more healing and less destruction through these mighty institutions of Cambridge.

Signs of Life Everywhere – And on Not Taking Ourselves Too Seriously

While walking alongside Memorial Drive, you see so much more than travelling by car or even bike. Cambridge is so beautiful – and there is life of all kinds everywhere, be it in the flowers growing alongside sidewalks, or the mix of wasted and ingenious solutions to shelter where some of our city’s unhoused sleep at night, or in the flocks of birds that travel and rest and breed and eat alongside the river. Struck my all this delightful life, I was aware that I was walking right by Cambridge’s Morse Elementary School, where our church gathered for Sunday worship most of its first six or seven years. I only visited a service once during those years, but both from my visit and from all I’ve heard of that era since, there was so much life in our church during those early years. We grew, and grew exclusively – as fast as any church in New England has ever grown. And we had so much fun – there was a lot of delight and surprise in the community and in our gatherings. We also, though, started to take ourselves too seriously during those years. We got a lot of attention – too much attention – for our growth, and we thought we were so very special. Sometimes we seemed to think we were one of the most important things God was part of on earth, or at least in our region. And that taking ourselves too seriously didn’t do us any favors, then or in the future. There was a lot for me to ponder in this – about joy, about fun, about staying humble and grounded, regardless of what other people say about you. 

MIT, The State House, and a Big Baptismal Pool

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Continuing to walk along the Charles, I saw the mighty concrete structures of MIT and felt the impressive image of strength that institution projects – intellectual formidability meets hand-on ingenuity. What can those gods not do? And then as I prayed, I felt the insecurity and fear of so many of MIT’s younger students, and maybe of so many of its staff and faculty of all ages as well. I prayed for healing. And I prayed for the learning and discussion around race happening on all our campuses and in so many of our institutions, for capacity to listen, to really listen in the Jesus they-who-have-ears-to-hear kind of way. And I prayed for the humility that will help facilitate learning and transformation. 

Looking across the river to the State House, I prayed for our legislature and governor, as I did throughout the day, that beneath their gilded dome, and beneath the mix of people-pleasing and policy making and politicking that happens there, our elected officials would do justice, and particularly that they would do justice in police reform, in health care access, and in immigrant rights.

One more funny little vision. Either in the Spirit, or kind of dehydrated at this point, as I looked at this widest section of the Charles River, I pictured it as an enormous baptismal and also as a giant civic swimming pool, where residents of Cambridge and Boston and surrounding communities get into the water to identify with the crucified and risen Jesus and feel the freedom of new life, and also just to play and cool off. Let me know if you need baptising, friends – it so joyful to get under the water or have water poured over the head as a sign of death and life, and the pouring out of the Spirit upon us!

Cambridge Street – Heart of the City

By Lydia Shiu

I have been feeling a bit powerless lately. So much is out of my control it seems, from Covid to racial injustice. There’s so much happening in the world that I’m sad about, that I grieve, that I’m angry about, that I can’t do anything about. I feel like a drop in the ocean.

A recent documentary came out about Bruce Lee, a powerful force of personality and fitness, a Chinese-American who made an impact in Hollywood at a time when Asian actors weren’t taken seriously, is titled ‘Be Water’ after a quote from Bruce talking about the power of water. He says, “You put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJMwBwFj5nQ&feature=youtu.be)

So then again, a drop of water here and a drop of water there can be powerful. That’s what I’ve been learning through the work of organizing. As many of you know, Reservoir Church has been a member of Greater Boston Interfaith Organization (GBIO), partnering with 40+ congregations, synagogues, mosques to work together toward public good. Since the outbreak of Covid and in the wake of George Floyd’s death, GBIO and new folks who’ve never been involved with GBIO were activated to come together to take action. From individual grief and powerlessness, we came together for a Racial Justice Campaign for police reform and healthcare reform in the state of MA. We began setting up In District Meetings (IDM) to engage our state representatives who will be voting on some important legislation that would impact real change and accountability in both our police and healthcare system. 

It has been hard work. It has been confusing work. Amendments were being added or taken out daily and it was difficult to keep up with all the politics! I was constantly Googling who’s in what district, and learning that how to pronounce “Representative Provost” was important (It’s just pro-vo. The “st” is silent!) We were all doing this over zoom of course and lots of emails. But through it, I experienced little drops of Reservoir (yes, I’m trying to do a pun) gather here and gather there, becoming a powerful force of water that put grooves into state politics that sometimes feel like heavy stones to break through.

Our church SHOWED UP with stories from their personal lives:

-like Meghan Cary about her journey through mental health care,

–Phil Reavis about police brutality (https://www.facebook.com/265194353559805/posts/3188974247848453/?vh=e&d=n),

–Herma Parham and her story,

–Michaiah Healy sharing stories from her town, and more.

Our church SHOWED up with Kristina Harrison, Evelyn Manning, Iueh Soh, Estivaliz Castro, Roger and Clarie Dewey, Paul Castiglione, Sue Rosenkranz, Grace Golding, and Kimberley Hutter in the planning of IDM’s, running the meeting, asking Representatives hard questions in the meeting. And MANY more showed up as constituents. Shout outs to the Faith Into Action Team and everyone else who I didn’t catch at the various meetings–THANK YOU for showing up. 

Our drops of tears, our frustrations, our emails and calls to representatives, our presence in the Zoom calls were poured into the containers of various districts in the Greater Boston area, and it made an impression on our state House Reps. I didn’t know I had that kind of power. Well, maybe I don’t, but we do. And as I learned from Iueh, one of our Faith Into Action Core Team leaders, he likes to remind us of a quote from Roberto Unger and Cornel West, “hope is not the cause of action, hope is the consequence.” Which has been true for me. 

I’m so proud of the work that Reservoir was a part of and that I got to be a part of. And there’s much more work to be done.

Here’s another example of Reservoir people bringing their own stories to make an impact: John Griffith, Aina Adler and their daughter Lily shared their story on WCVB5 News.

Their experience of racial disparity in the healthcare system moved me to tears. John spoke out about it on his Facebook and it’s been shared a few thousand times. Lily shouldn’t have experienced this because of the color of her mother Aina’s skin. But this is being black in America today. 

The #BlackLivesMatter movement is an opportunity for all of us to advocate for those who are being marginalized because of their skin color–their health and their lives are at risk. GBIO will be continuing in the work of racial justice focusing on police reform and healthcare reform in the weeks and months to come. Stories like John and Aina’s should not leave us powerless but take it from them, and let’s speak out and do something. Our faith can inform us to do something about it. If you’d like to be involved with Faith into Action, a group of Reservoir folks who want to organize towards justice and action, please email me at lydia@reservoirchurch.org. Don’t underestimate the power of a drop of water, like Bruce Lee said. Or like Jesus said, the power of a seed. 

“Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” Matt 17:20

(text is from the letter that went out to the Reservoir Church community 6/24/20)

Happy Summer!
 

While all our weekly emails sign off from Steve, our senior pastor, they’re really from your whole pastoral team. This week in particular is from Steve and Ivy, our pastor of community life, as we’re excited to share a bit about in person gatherings in our community!

It has been incredibly moving to see how you have carried one another during these last few months of pandemic.  In a time where the realities of these hard, wild days do their best to tug us into isolation and disconnection – you have rallied and adapted and continued to make sacred space proving that there is “no distance in the Spirit.”
 

These months more than ever, have revealed just how vital connection is to our well-being, our souls.  And the ways that you have continued to meet with one another to pray, to express joy, to weep, to grieve, to celebrate daily victories, to sit in the presence of God has been encouraging.

“Where two or three are gathered,” Jesus said, “there I will be also.” Turns out – Yes! – even via virtual platforms.  This gathering together has been so powerful, beautiful and a lifeline to so many! Thank you, thank you!

Unlike many summers, where we encourage community groups to take a break  – we’ve heard from many group leaders, that there is an eagerness to continue to meet virtually as well as start to hold smaller in-person gatherings. 

As COVID-19 numbers are decreasing, the state is gradually, and carefully reopening. As such, we are inviting community groups and other small circles of people in the community to gather in person, if you would like to. No group should feel they need to meet in person, and we ask all groups to continue to meet virtually if you have members who would prefer that, either for their safety or their risk tolerance.

If you do gather in person however, please observe the following precautions (these are meant to supplement – not replace – any laws, rules or regulations in your local communities):

• Gather outdoors
  (look for a time when the ground is dry and odds of rain are low!)
• Gather in groups of 10 or fewer
  (if your group is larger, split into two or more pods for meet-ups this summer)
• Meet in a large backyard (if possible), or an area of a public park without a lot of foot traffic, here are a few in the greater Boston area; Danehy Park (Cambridge), Larz Anderson (Brookline), Arnold Arboretum (Boston – JP), Lincoln Park (Somerville).
• Maintain *at least* six feet physical distance. 
• Wear masks
• Bring your own food or drink, rather than sharing.
• Consider air high-fives, footshakes, or elbow taps instead of hugging and handshakes. 
• Enjoy conversation, prayer as you normally would.
• If you feel sick, or are exhibiting any ill symptoms, please stay home. 
• Have hand sanitizer available, if hand-washing is not easily accessible.

However you gather this summer, whether virtually or in-person or a hybrid – remember that Jesus is with you, binding you to one another, spirit to spirit – may you relish in this warmth in the weeks to come. 

Peace,

Steve and Ivy

steve@reservoirchurch.org, ivy@reservoirchurch.org

Examen Written Collaboratively by Vernée Wilkinson and Ted Wueste 

For many of us, we are realizing that the statement “I’m not a racist” is not enough. Better is to say “I’m antiracist.” In other words: proactively standing against racism in our hearts and minds, in our interactions with others, and in the way we strive to see our cultural institutions operate. In that spirit, we offer this examen. An examen is a structured prayer in which we are led to prayerfully reflect on our lives by focusing on being present to God and asking God to search our hearts and guide our steps. *set aside time daily to slowly pray through these questions .

1. Remind yourself that you are in God’s presence. Give thanks for God’s grace in your life. Give thanks for God’s love for all who have been made in His image. 

2. Pray for the grace to understand how God is at work in you as it relates to living as an antiracist person. Review, with God, the call to be active in bringing peace and justice to the world around you. 

As you consider the injustice of racism, what does the Spirit seem to be stirring in your spirit? Do I extend the peace of Christ to people of color with my words, deeds, actions and influence? How have I allowed the evil of racism to affect me? Have I “wept with those who weep?” 

3. Review your day … Ask God to search your heart and mind to see how embedded thought patterns of bias might have affected you today. 

Have I done anything to diminish the image of God in my neighbor, friend, colleague or family members that are persons of color? Did I say hurtful words to someone or about someone because of their race? Have I been silent when I could have spoken peace and truth into a racially biased or explicitly racist situation? 

4. Reflect on what you did, said, or thought in those instances. Were you drawing closer to God’s heart concerning racial injustice, or further away? 

Are my private thoughts uplifting and loving towards all races? Do I recognize people of color as fearfully and wonderfully made? Where do I struggle with this the most? a specific person, people group or environment? Where can I let go of my ego and make more space for racial justice? 

Are there ways in which I promoted peace and extended love to people of color? 

Take a few moments to repent and ask for forgiveness where it is needed, and then celebrate with God where you see growth and transformation. 

5. Look toward tomorrow — think of how you might collaborate more effectively with God’s heart to extend brotherly and sisterly love. 

How can I speak up, show up and affirm people of color in my life? in society? What action can I take tomorrow to nourish the longing for racial justice? 

Are there things that need to be undone? Is there someone to whom I need to apologize? Is there someone to whom I need to reach out? 

How can I be antiracist in my community of influence as well as help in the work of larger societal change? What ongoing values and actions will I apply towards living a life as an antiracist person? 

This week is a big one in our state’s journey through the COVID-19 pandemic, as Governor Baker announced on Monday the beginning of Stage 1 of our reentry plan, effective immediately. As you may have read, “houses of worship” were authorized to meet in person under a variety of conditions. 

I am working on an approach to reentry for Reservoir, which we’ll share with you after our Board and staff team have more time to communicate, collaborate, and consult. In short, though, as I’ve said before, we are in no rush to put any one in our community or broader public in harm’s way. While I support Governor Baker and all of our local leaders’ complicated and valiant efforts to protect public safety and support the freedom of worship for faith communities, I still have a variety of concerns and questions regarding the current guidelines and whether or not they are adequate for our safety and that of the public at large. We’ll have more thoughts on this and a more detailed approach to reentry for our community in the weeks to come. 

Meanwhile, our worship services and community groups will continue to gather online. It’s incredibly heartening that so many of us continue to get together in online groups on a regular basis. I encourage you to take opportunities to get the support and refreshment you need. Ivy Anthony, our Pastor of Community Groups, can help connect you if you want. And we’ll continue to share resources and content to help us discover more of the love of Jesus, the gift of community, and the joy of living as best we can during these circumstances. 

Much love to you all this week,

Steve

Since our COVID-19 shelter in place began nearly two months ago, our church has had an unusual amount of opportunity to think about love of neighbor, love in public, and public justice. It’s ironic that so many of us could be spending so much time in our own homes and yet also be so connected to our place, our work, and God’s work in the broader world.

I want to share a few things I’ve learned as I’ve watched you do this, and as I’ve done my own public work as a clergy member, and leader in the interfaith justice work of Greater Boston Interfaith Organization. I’ve had the opportunity to be part of meetings with our governor, our state attorney general, sheriffs, district attorneys, and more, and want to share things I’ve learned there as well. So this is a longer email; thanks for taking the time to read!

Stuff I’ve learned from public officials first, then other things:

• No one wants anyone to lose their housing right now. We’ve helped encourage legislations to protect people on this. If you’re being threatened with eviction or foreclosure, contact the Attorney General’s consumer complaint line: 617-727-8400. They’ll fight for you if the law allows.
• Politicians are people too, even really powerful ones. Whether you voted for them or not, pray for people like Governor Baker and others; these are hard times for them.
• Advocacy works. In our meeting with the governor, we watched and heard lights turn on for him as we advocated for health care access we’ve been fighting for, for years (greater mental health care access, ending surprise billing, lowering prescription drug costs, etc.). I’m hopeful Massachusetts will keep leading the way towards better work here, even if it’s not as fast or thorough as many of think it should be.
• More and more of us are aware that our country imprisons way too many people, that racism is deeply baked into our criminal justice system, and that prisons and jails are dangerous places to be – especially during a Covid outbreak. However, few public officials want to let people out. The political, logistical, legal, and service-providing barriers are still large, but we’re part of a broad-based coalition that is working hard on this issue.
• If you want to get involved in advocacy on these and other things, you should! Contact Lydia (lydia@reservoirchurch.org) about our emerging Faith Into Action group and work. We have a growing number of skilled, passionate leaders in our congregation!
• Our public leaders are really worried that people with urgent health care needs aren’t getting the care they need. If you have a chronic health condition or an emergency, call your doctor or, as needed, go to the ER. It’s scary, but we need to attend to our health.
• Elders have it really, really hard right now. Reach out to your elders. Offer help. Offer connection and communication. Pray for them. Please. Today.
• I’ve learned through Attorney General Healey and through my work with Samaritans that domestic violence and child neglect and endangerment are on the rise right now. If you’re being abused or neglected, or if you wonder if you’re doing that yourself, stop reading this now and contact me or another one of our pastors, and we’ll help put you in touch with the help you need.
• Help is available. If you live in Cambridge and meet certain income guidelines, look into our city’s Mayors Fund, for cash relief for people impacted by this season. Millions are available, literally.
• If you can offer help, you and your community group should check out our growing list of resources for how you can help right now!
• Our church just decided to make a $1,000 donation to the recently established One Church Fund, where churches that are still well provided for in this crisis can share with churches that face larger barriers. 
• You are amazing. You’ve worked with our city’s homeless, sometimes getting sick as a result. You’ve sewn masks for others (email Ivy to join this ongoing effort of mask donation to Pine Street Inn and Victory Programs, Inc.). You’ve done your work in human services bravely, admirably, courageously. You’ve raised funds. You’ve transformed our sanctuary into a holy space for blood donations. You’ve loved your kids as well as you can. You’ve borne your losses honestly and courageously. You’ve given stimulus money to people who needed it more. You’ve grieved. You’ve hoped. You’ve raised important issues. You’ve raised your voice for others. You’ve challenged scapegoating and racial stigmas. You’ve cooked up a storm. You’ve done the work of healing – medical and otherwise – in impossibly hard conditions. You’ve shopped for others. You’ve made your needs known. You’ve practiced public love, even when that just meant staying home. You are amazing.
• This has been so hard. Everything from missing our routines, to seeing our kids’ losses, to mental health challenges, to isolation, to … I can’t name it all; it’s just hard. Hard is normal right now. Hang in there. Reach out for help. Help where you can. This will not last forever.
• This may not be true of you personally, but on the whole, our church is very privileged. Few of us, compared to the state at large, have lost our jobs. Few of us, compared to the city at large, have been hospitalized. While our shared inconvenience, fear, and suffering is real and important, our church community’s economic and social privilege shows. And it is our opportunity to decide what to do about that – how to be generous, how to advocate well for others, how to choose solidarity with those who are hurt or hurting. Our church is collectively choosing ways to do this, and if you can, I encourage you personally to do the same. 

Two last bits of news, before our usual reminders.

1. Our church was eventually approved for a low interest, forgivable loan through the Payroll Protection Program. Thanks to our Board and Cambridge Savings Bank for their work on this, helping protect our bottom line so we can sustainably serve our city. 
2. My planned sabbatical for this summer has been postponed, at my request. It’s just not a great time to take 3 months off, for a whole bunch of reasons. I’m excited to serve our community this summer and excited to take the sabbatical in 2021. 

(Announcements to the church congregation omitted here.)

Fifth in the Lenten Series, “Why Did Jesus Die?”

The first time I stood on the Great Wall of China was a revelation. I thought I knew what it was. I remember in elementary school, a teacher said that the Great Wall of China was the one human-made structure you could see from space. It turns out this is not at all true, for more than one reason. But it sounded amazing to me, that people could make something so large and so big. I’d seen many, many pictures over the years after that, of the wall and the verdant, mountainous scenery surrounding it. I had even read bits of history about the great Qin dynasty and Emperor Qin Shi Huang, under whose brutal but powerful rule the wall construction really gathered momentum. 

I thought I knew the Great Wall of China.

But standing there for the first time, on a summer day at the start of this millenium, I was speechless. It was larger and steeper than I had imagined. Even on a grey, rainy morning, the views from its peaks were more breathtaking than I had expected. I knew that this wall was long, but seeing it wind through the distant mountains, I just remember having this extraordinary sense of awe at what natural beauty, human engineering, back-breaking labor, and historical preservation had together made possible. 

Thanks for reading about my relationship with the Great Wall. In this year of endless cancellations, the most painful for me was the cancellation of our family’s plans for our kids’ first ever trip to China. Our family is a beautiful interracial mix of my wife’s family’s Chinese roots and my family’s mix of Northwest European heritage, and our kids are all teenagers and getting ready to head out into the world on their own soon. The biggest thing we wanted to do together first was to go to China. And a clear must-see for all was the kids’ first trip to the Great Wall themselves. 

There’s a reason, though, that I tell this story as we explore why Jesus died. Most sane people throughout history have acknowledged that when it comes to our thinking about our Creator, the Spirit or being above or within all things, some humility is called for. We have rightly viewed who or what we call God with mystery.

And yet, we have often assumed that more or less, we know what God is like. By way of vision or tradition, story and rumor, we have imagined that the force behind the sun and the rain, life and death, our great hopes and fears, to be called God. We have, our human family, called God the creator, the power behind all power, the cause beneath all causes, the force of life that has brought all life into being. And it’s not that none of this is true.  But our sense of God has remained murky and far too often a cosmic reflection of the best and the worst of our own muddled conceptions and experience of love, power, fear, and violence. 

Something interesting happened, though, in the collective thoughts and imaginations of the first followers of Jesus. Their memory of the life and teaching of Jesus, how Jesus provoked and inspired them, and even how their sense of the unseen Spirit of Jesus continued to move them, made them think that for the first time, people had seen God face to face. God had walked among them, spoken to them, and shared meals of bread and beans and fish with them. 

God looked like Jesus.

They said this in different ways. Here are three, just as a sampling, all from the late Eugene Peterson’s poetic translation he called The Message.

“No one has ever seen God,

        not so much as a glimpse.

    This one-of-a-kind God-Expression,

        who exists at the very heart of the Father,

        has made him plain as day.” (John 1:18)

No one had ever seen God, until Jesus made God plain as day.

“We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God’s original purpose in everything created.” (Colossians 1:15)

In the history of the earth, the human species has been the closest approximation of the creative mind and vibrant love that God is. In Jesus, this approximation becomes the real deal, the accurate reflection of God, the original purpose. 

“We heard it with our own ears, saw it with our own eyes, verified it with our own hands. The Word of Life appeared right before our eyes; we saw it happen! And now we’re telling you in most sober prose that what we witnessed was, incredibly, this: The infinite Life of God himself took shape before us.” (I John 1:1-2)

We now have an eyewitness sighting of the infinite life of God. God looks like Jesus. 

In their hope that God looks like Jesus, his followers to this day are not limited to how Jesus died, but our vision does continue to center there. Because in Jesus’ death, we see what the best writing and worship about God had always hoped might be true: that God is self-giving, radically forgiving, co-suffering love. 

God shares and gives all the best that God has and is. God is by nature kind and forgiving, eager to see the best and heal the worst in us. And God is present in compassion with all who suffer. 

Jesus on the cross then becomes a kind of litmus test for all of our screwy traditions, opinions, hopes, and fears about God. Does what our parents or church or anyone else told us about God look and sound like Jesus? Maybe then it is. But if not, we can forget about it. 

This is another reason then that Jesus died, to cut through the pile of rumor and report of all we have thought about God, and to show us what God is like: self-giving, radically forgiving, co-suffering love.