Kindred in Christ,

As I reflect on this past year, I am most grateful for the relationships I have been blessed with (many of whom from our historic and growing church community). And as I lean into the new year, I am most excited about continuing to foster those relationships as well as making new ones! Indeed, relationships are more valuable and meaningful than any individualistic resolution or self-made goal we can accomplish in the new year. And our Wesleyan tradition teaches us this wisdom.

After joining the United Methodist tradition as a young adult, one of the things I appreciated was that the first Sunday of the new year often includes reciting Wesley’s Covenant Prayer together. This prayer attributed to John Wesley (one of the founders of Methodism), reaffirms the Covenant between God and people, and names the ways we affirm and deny that relationship. It reminds us that in the biblical tradition as well as today, God makes a covenant with us, and that a covenant is all about being in relationship.

Join us this Sunday as Rev. Judy Shultz guest preaches and helps us reflect deeper on what it means to be in covenant with God. And I (Paul) will be leading us in a reaffirmation of the covenant during Communion.

And in the meantime, check out this modern rendition of Wesley’s Covenant Prayer (by Hacking Christianity):

I am not my own self-made, self-reliant human being.
In truth, O God, I am Yours.
Make me into what You will.
Make me a neighbor with those whom You will.
Guide me on the easy path for You.
Guide me on the rocky road for You.
Whether I am to step up for You or step aside for You;
Whether I am to be lifted high for You or brought low for You;
Whether I become full or empty, with all things or with nothing;

I give all that I have and all that I am for You. So be it.

And may I always remember that you, O God, and I belong to each other.

Amen.

Rev. Paul Ortiz

Kindred in Christ,

One of the things I love about Scott Erickson’s art piece, With Us, is that it invites us to reflect upon the vulnerability of the pregnancy and birthing process in relation to the coming of Christ.

What does it say about a God…

who is willing to be this vulnerable with us?

who is willing to come into this world though the statistical risk of childbearing?

who is willing to be attached by a placenta for nourishment and life from their own creation?

who is willing to wait and grow in the human womb?

who is willing to be fearfully and wonderfully made, just like us?

Join us on Christmas Eve and this Sunday, as we continue to reflect upon the power of God’s vulnerable love with us.

Rev. Paul Ortiz

Kindred in Christ,

As we enter the fourth and final week of Advent, I am reminded of how easily it is to miss the coming of God in our world. In fact, I find that the four weeks only begin to prepare our hearts and minds for what the manger means today.

One of the things that I love about the depiction above, by Everett Patterson, titled José y Maria, is that the more time you spend looking at it, the more you’ll notice. Drawn in literary comic-book style, in shades of purple, lavender and gray, it depicts a gritty street scene with a poor young Latine couple standing on a sidewalk in front of a convenience store at night. The man has a public telephone wedged between his shoulder and ear. He looks worried. His wife rests at his side, resting by sitting sideways on a child’s mechanical pony ride. She holds a hand over her very pregnant abdomen. She looks worried too, and tired.

Are you starting to see the picture? The artist loads it with evocative hints: The woman’s hoodie reads “Nazareth High School.” A sign in the store window, advertising Starr Beer, bears a blue neon star. A poster calls out “Good News.” Around the corner, a lighted sign for Dave’s City Motel reads “NO VACANCY.” And my favorite, in a crack in the sidewalk a hopeful green shoot has sprouted between the man and woman. What other hints do you see?

Join us this Sunday, as we conclude our Advent series, Shadow and Light, and explore further what it means to see the coming of Christ in our world.

Rev. Paul Ortiz

Kindred in Christ,

The above image is a depiction of Mary visiting her cousin Elizabeth (Luke 1:39-45) by Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman. After saying, “Let it be,” both women find themselves in a place they never thought possible. Mary assumed she could not become pregnant because she was a virgin, and Elizabeth assumed she could not become pregnant because she was too old. What assumptions do you carry with you this season?

When we assume we know what we will get for Christmas, it often robs the joy of opening the gift.  Likewise, the joy of our spiritual journey comes when we are open to being surprised by God. For our assumptions of how God works, who is in and who is out, and how things will end, often hinder us in all kinds of ways. Yet the antidote to assumption is always surprise!

Join us as we continue our Advent series Shadow and Light and reflect further upon the surprise of Christ’s incarnation in Mary and in us today. See you on Facebook Live!

Rev. Paul Ortiz

Kindred in Christ,

The season of Advent (the four weeks leading up to Christmas) invites us to consider something quite countercultural—the darkness is our friend. While well-lit spaces (literally and metaphorically) grant us a sense of security and control, Advent insists that there is beauty in the shadowy and unresolved experiences of our lives. Each week in Advent we only get to light one additional candle, a reminder that we must trust God as we move forward not seeing the full picture at first.

The above modern icon by Scott Ericson depicts The Annunciation to Mary by the Angle Gabriel (Luke 1:26-38). My favorite aspect of Ericson’s interpretation is the upside-down messenger, inviting Mary into an upside-down way of looking at the world.

Join us this Sunday as we continue our Advent Series, Shadow and Light!  And in the meantime, I invite you to meditate on the following Advent prayer:

Advent in the Dark (full version here)

We wait in the darkness,

expectantly, longingly, anxiously, thoughtfully.

The darkness is our friend.

In the darkness of the womb,

we have all been nurtured and protected.

In the darkness of the womb

the Christ-child was made ready for the journey into light.

It is only in the darkness

that we can see the splendor of the universe –

blankets of stars, the solitary glowings of the planets

…

Sometimes in the solitude of the darkness

our fears and concerns, our hopes, and visions

rise to the surface.

We come face to face with ourselves

and with the road that lies ahead of us.

And in that same darkness

we find companionship for the journey.

In that same darkness

we sometimes allow ourselves to wonder and worry

whether the human race is going to survive.

And then, in the darkness

we know that you are with us, O God,

yet still we await your coming.

In the darkness that contains both our hopelessness and our hope,

we watch for a sign of God’s hope.

For you are with us, O God,

in darkness and in light.

Rev. Paul Ortiz