We have this push to collect food going on for Mission 1, so I did a little extra grocery shopping when I was at the store this week. Vegetables were on sale for 65 cents, so I picked up 10 cans of vegetables. I got five boxes of pasta and and equal number of cans of tomato sauce. The whole amount came to less than $20 and the kids had 20 items to add to the Mission 1 basket. It felt pretty good, but...

• I also bought some things for us at home in that same shopping trip. And the amount I bought for our family was more than twice that which I donated. I'm still keeping more than I'm giving.
• Honestly, if I were making  spaghetti, sauce and a side of vegetables for my family, I would have been buying a higher quality sauce and probably cooking fresh or frozen vegetables, not canned. I am keeping the best for myself and giving lower quality to others.
• I'm buying all this because we are really pushing Mission 1. But there's really no reason I can't buy 20 items for the food pantry every week. But do I?

I am very proud of  our congregation for all we've done during the 11 days of Mission 1. But for me, personally, it has raised a lot of concerns about who I help, and how I help, that I need to continue to reflect upon.

Peace,
Pastor Lisa

You would not think a church yard sale is a source for spiritual reflection. But for me, it is.

About a year and a half ago, I cleaned house. Really cleaned house. When my mother died I had inherited all sorts of stuff. Some of it I loved --  hand-stitched quilts made by my great-grandmother, my grandmother's china and dining room set, a china figurine of a little girl playing dress-up that my mother kept in the curio when I was a little girl playing dress-up. But most of it, I didn't love. It may have belonged to my mother, grandmother, great-aunt, great-grandmother, but it wasn't something I connected with them. And it wasn't something I loved. I kept it because somebody has to keep such things, right? They are family treasures. And yet, I wasn't treasuring them. And I started realizing that I wasn't using the stuff I did love because it was so hard to get to it. I hardly ever set the table with my grandmother's china, for instance, because there were all sorts of other serving trays, tea sets, and glassware that was also living in the dining room cabinets. It was too much work to set the table with Grandma's china, because it was tightly stacked in one little corner to make room for everything else.

It was an epiphany of sorts. I decided to box up everything I didn't love or use so that I'd have room for the things that are most important. Boxes upon boxes left my house. You know what? I haven't missed a thing.

I feel free.

In this country, we are blessed -- or perhaps cursed -- with material abundance. Having stuff, maintaining stuff, acquiring more stuff can become an obsession. I think Jesus knew that. I think when he said it is easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven, he was recognizing that our material concerns can get in our way. Our collections and inheritances take our attention away from what matters most -- a life where we depend upon God, love our family, live in peace.

So this church yard sale coming up? Don't look at it as a fundraiser. The money raised for the church's ministry is of secondary importance. More important is the spiritual practice of letting go and the freedom that comes with it.

Peace,
Pastor Lisa

There is a reason why I haven't written a blog post in over a month. In fact, there are dozens, hundreds of reasons. I'm the pastor of a church, mother of three children, wife, friend, neighbor, and (since last fall) doctoral candidate.

As the church readies itself for Holy Week, as the children have all their concerts and school events, as books need to be written and papers read -- I find myself feeling a bit overwhelmed. The clock is ticking loudly and I feel myself living in the future. If I can just make it until May 5, I tell myself, Easter will be over, classes will be done, and then I'll have a chance to breathe again.

Perhaps you have found yourself doing that sometimes too. At some mystical time in the future, living will be easy. But living in the future is a problem. At that magical time in the future, new problems will be facing us, perhaps harder than the ones we face today. Perhaps we won't even be there to enjoy that future moment. None of us, not one, is promised that we will wake up tomorrow.

I remind myself of these things, not to be morbid, but to remember to focus on right now; to live this life, acknowledge this moment, feel this breath as it enters and leaves my body.

Breathe.

Peace,
Pastor Lisa

Like the rest of you, we've been shoveling, scraping, and salting all that fun white stuff. (At least the kids think it's fun. I'm not so sure.) It is certainly a lot of work to unbury the car and head out to work on a snowy morning. At least I'm not still living in Chicago.

One of the controversies that has developed in our borough and in cities all over has been the business of saving a parking space for yourself. After all, you spend an hour digging out your car, you deserve to have a parking space when you return. It's only fair. So you put a chair in the space to reserve it for later. Cities are starting to crack down on this practice, giving tickets to people who mark their spaces. And the cry has gone up "it's not fair."

It's not fair. But "fair" is not what Jesus preached. As we're working through the Sermon on the Mount this February (Matthew Chapters 5 through 7) I'm struck that many of the words are pertinent to our icy controversy. "If anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile." (Matthew 6:40-41, NRSV)

If people need our parking space, we let them have it. Maybe we make a practice of working with our neighbors to dig out everybody's car. How would our community if we released ourselves from concerns about what's mine, and what's fair?

Peace,
Pastor Lisa

Perhaps a strange post for the beginning of the new year. We have only just packed away the decorations, and taken down the lights -- or perhaps waiting until warmer weather for the latter. But in any case, Christmas is over. Whether it was joyful or mournful it's over and past. And if the retailers are starting in on next year, at least they are waiting a few months to tell us. At least, let's hope so.

The post refers to an epiphany hymn by Jim Strathdee "I Am the Light of the World."
When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the sages and the shepherds have found their way home,
The work of Christmas is begun.

It's pretty easy to get excited about Jesus at Christmas. God dwells among us, a miraculous birth, angels, shepherds and some visitors from the east bearing gifts. It's all so special. Then, the ordinary reappears. Here in Pennsylvania we've had snow, and more snow and cold, cold, cold. The kids are back in school, the adults are back at work, the days are still short and dark and we're looking for a little holiday.

The work of Christmas is begun?

If we see the shepherds as the poor and oppressed, and the angels as messengers of good tidings, then yes, this is the season for the work of Christmas. Because all that charitable giving and volunteering that was a huge part of December? That need is still with us. The work of Christmas begins.

If we see the magi as Christ-seekers, then yes, this is the season for the work of Christmas. Because there are a lot of people looking for Christ -- they probably wouldn't say they are searching for Christ, but they are looking for purpose, meaning, to make sense of the senseless. Who is going to point out the light? Send them in the right direction? The work of Christmas begins.

If we see the birth of Jesus as God coming to dwell among us, then this is the season for the work of Christmas. We're not as gifted in prayer as we like to think. The need to reflect, to call on God, to sense God within, to listen for God? If that's not a need in the dark days of winter, I don't know what is. The work of Christmas begins.

This season of Epiphany is a season for doing this work of Christmas. Service to others, pointing to Christ, seeking God's presence. Have a blessed Epiphany journey.

                                                                        Peace,
                                                                        Pastor Lisa

   As we get ready to remember the birth of Jesus, we remember that Mary took the newborn Jesus, "wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no place for them in the inn." (Luke 2:7 RSV)  We also believe that when we feed the hungry, or welcome the stranger, we are really welcoming Jesus. (Matthew 25:34-40)
    I'm so glad that at Trinity this December we have "a place in the inn" for Jesus. We will be the host church for Mainstreet Ministries homeless shelter beginning Wednesday, December 1. Every evening at 10 pm the homeless of our community will come to our church, be served a hot meal, and have a warm and safe place to sleep for the night. Every morning they will have some breakfast, get a sack lunch before leaving at 8 am. That's the daily flow of the shelter -- arrive at 10 pm, eat, sleep, then wake in the morning eat, and go on your way at 8 am.
   But some of our church members have gotten to thinking about Christmas Day. That day where we remember Mary and Joseph's travel to Bethlehem. We remember the Christ child in the manger. We remember that it was shepherds, themselves homeless and sleeping in the fields, who were the first witnesses to Jesus' birth. It really doesn't feel right to turn anyone out in the cold at 8 am Christmas Day.
   So we have members who, on a rotating basis, are giving up a few hours of their family gatherings on Christmas Day to stay with our guests. We will have having a Christmas morning brunch, we will have a Christmas dinner, we will sing carols together, we will play games and watch movies, and exchange gifts. And nobody will have to be alone in the cold.
   I hope those who read this -- Trinity members and members of our larger Pottstown community -- will find a way to be part of this homeless ministry this December. Truly, it is a blessing to our church, and to our understanding of this season, to host people who are homeless at Christmas.
                                                             Peace,
                                                             Pastor Lisa