During worship on Sunday morning, we talked about the Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids, one of the last parables Jesus tells his disciples in the gospel of Matthew. Though it has some twists and turns and causes us to ask some fascinating questions, at the end of the day, it’s a parable about doing all you can to keep yourself ready for the world God is bringing about. One way that we keep ourselves ready is by keeping our spiritual lamps full of oil.
Now, God in God’s joyful, though sometimes confounding, wisdom, shaped each of us differently from one another. We Christians are lamps of different shapes and sizes, each needing our own unique blend of oil in order to burn our brightest. For some, that oil is prayer, meditation, and reflection on the Word. For some, it’s making things with their hands, gardening, or hiking. For some, it’s spending time with others, visiting, and tending to the material needs they see around them. And for some, like me, it’s doing what Methodists across the years have called “communal acts of mercy,” working in what we today might call social justice. For others, it might be something else or a completely new blend of these different types of oil. It’s our work as Christians to figure out what lights us up and to make sure we keep a supply of that fuel at the ready.
What God has led me to, despite my best efforts to ignore God’s leading and just stay put, is that what lights me up the most are these communal acts of mercy and that, in this season of my life, I need to pursue this oil in another setting. As much as I love these mountains that I call home and all the good people I’ve encountered in my time here, God is calling me to other work. At the end of December, I’ll be moving closer to Washington, DC, to pursue work centered around poverty and justice. So much of my time here is dear to me, but it’s clear that it’s time I move on.
But before I go, I and our church council, along with support from our district, are going to do our best prepare for a smooth transition of the good work that is already being done here and to set out a path for the good work that God has set before us to do. This is an early-than-planned departure, but that doesn’t mean that the church will be left bereft. I have full faith that God will listen to our prayers and guide us forward in mighty ways over these next weeks and months.
I invite you to pray with me for the future of our church here in Whittier, for our community, state, and for our nation as we all work through a transition in the middle of a historic pandemic. These are story-making times, times that we, more than likely, will be telling future generations about. Let’s pray without ceasing, knowing that our prayers are powerful and that whenever we seek God, we can be confident that we will find God. Then, as the Spirit leads, reach out to me to set up a time to talk. We can meet at the church, on your front porch, over the phone, or even over Zoom, to reflect on this past year and a half and on the situation ahead. These conversations, bathed in prayer, will help us shape and sharpen our vision as a church community.
Know that you are all in my heart today and in all the days ahead, but, more importantly, that you are also held in the loving arms of our infinite God, who is, now and always, making all things new.
With love and blessings,
Pastor Jo
