King David brings the Ark of God to his city, and all the way there he dances his heart out and celebrates by making sacrifices and feeding the people of Israel. Michal, the daughter of Saul, watches all of this and gets mad at him, and she goes and tells him he’s embarrassing himself. (David had succeeded Saul on the throne after the latter lost an important battle.) King David tells Michal that he is dancing for his God, the God that gave him his kingdom, and that she better get used to him being embarrassing if that’s what she thinks about his particular style of praise.

The bangle is today’s Jesse tree symbol. The bangle that King David wore as he danced before the Ark. The bangle I assume he was still wearing when he clashed with Michal. When I first read the story, I wasn’t sure I could relate it to advent. It surely would fit better as a reflection for a worship committee deciding whether to adopt a more contemporary style of music in services or something. The chapter ends with the fact that Michal is barren for the rest of her life, which I suppose is just one of those difficult things about the Old Testament.

I’m curious about how the conflict between these two members of the elite society could have played out differently, had either been able to relate more empathetically to the other. I am presently living in an intentional community in a year of church service, and it feels like we are never not working on how to peacefully and empathetically live with one another and resolve conflict. In my opinion, King David and Michal could have done things a little better differently.

Michal, knowing King David was a difficult person for her to deal with due to the fact that he succeeded her dead father on the throne, could simply have chosen not to engage with him. Or, she could have approached him with a different attitude, remembering that the wound of losing her father was still fresh. King David, recognizing that he had been dancing and celebrating all day and was probably very tired, could have asked her politely to come back another time when he was more rested. Or, he could have been sensitive to the fact that Michal was maybe lashing out because she was upset about her family tragedy, and then engaged her in a conversation. In any of those scenarios, I don’t see Michal ending up childless and King David with hurt feelings about his dance moves.

This past year I took a course on radical and engaged compassion with Dr. Frank Rogers and Mark Yaconelli. An idea that has stuck with me since is letting a physical object serve as a reminder to stay grounded, in order to be able to engage with others from a place of compassion. I can’t help but think King David’s bangle would have been perfect for this, because it was already on his wrist! During the holiday season, when people seem to get tired and upset more easily, I encourage you to find something to serve as a reminder of God’s love, or the advent of Jesus’s birth, or anything that helps you stay grounded—I’ll be wearing a bangle.

Stump is a blogging project of Claremont Presbyterian Church

David and Goliath is a powerful story about strength and faith.

David volunteers to fight Goliath, so he dresses in his tunic, carries his shepherd’s staff, sling and a pouch full of stones, and approaches Goliath. The giant cursed at him, threatening him.

David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied … today I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds of the air … and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel … it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”

As Goliath moves in to fight David, David reaches into his bag and slings one of his stones at Goliath’s head. Since David is smart, he finds a hole in the armor, and so the stone sinks into the giant’s forehead and he falls face down on the ground.

The sling used to defeat Goliath can be interpreted like an idea that can help break down barriers or it can be a supporter of an idea. I wrote a speech that I competed with at debate tournaments called “Let’s arm our girls with education,” about a plan to gain education for girls in other countries and how men are overruling women. There are groups in other countries that are trying to stop girls from gaining their education, crushing their dreams and selling girls and women into markets. But there are campaigns and movements to help stop this horrific act.

Education for these girls is like the sling David used to take down his monstrous enemy. 

Sophia Jung is a member of Claremont Presbyterian Church and a 9th grader at Claremont High School. She’s is an accomplished musician and dancer, and a devoted fan of One Direction. 

The Stump is a blogging project of Claremont Presbyterian Church. 

At the beginning of I Samuel, Israel is in a poor state. Eli, a spiritual leader, has grown old and his two sons, Hophni and Phineas, have been mistreating the people of Israel and sinning against God. They skim the fat off the people’s offerings to the Lord and keep it for themselves. In response God delivers a threat personally to Eli, promising that nobody in his family will live to see old age.

Cut to a young prophet named Samuel, sleeping in a temple. Samuel is suddenly awoken by the voice of God, which he at first does not recognize. Assuming the voice is coming from Eli, Samuel wakes up Eli three times in response to God’s calls, until Eli finally insists that the calls are from God, and that Samuel must listen. Samuel concedes to this notion, and invites God to speak saying “Speak, for your servant is listening”. God proceeds to inform Samuel that he intends to deliver upon his earlier threat to Eli, who is then placed in the awkward position of letting his priest know that God plans to off him and his family.

I want to bring special attention to the third verse of this chapter, which points out that while Eli is sleeping before God speaks, “the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord…” This lamp is significant, for it is termed “the lamp of God” and therefore deserves extra attention. It is very early morning, when the lamps that served as lights in the temple would begin to die out from having been burning all night. The dimly lit lamp of God symbolizes the dark state of Israel under Eli and his son’s unjust leadership. During this dark time in Israel, Samuel is still able to hear God’s voice. While his priest, his mentor, and a man in a position of great power in Israel, engages in questionable behavior, Samuel is still able to confront him with God’s word.

It is impossible not to give credit to Samuel’s incredible amount of bravery in confronting Eli, even when things are unsure and the lamp of God is dim. The courage it must take to listen to God’s word, even when it is not the light that is burning the brightest, the most obvious choice. During Advent season, it can be difficult to follow the Lamp of God, which might appear dim at times in comparison to all of the bold modern-day rituals that accompany the holiday season. Bright store displays, Christmas lights, presents wrapped in colorful wrapping paper. It takes courage, especially in a college town like Isla Vista, CA, to remind others of the true meaning of the Christmas season, of Advent, and not buy in to the notion that the season is dedicated to Santa and presents and stockings and eggnog.

Steven Watts grew up in Claremont Presbyterian Church and has served as a Youth Advisory Delegate to the Presbyterian Church’s General Assembly. He is currently a senior at Cal State Santa Barbara majoring in History and rowing like a champ. 

Stump is an Advent blogging project of Claremont Presbyterian Church. It’s 30 days of posts exloring the symbolism of The Jesse Tree by members of the CPC family far and wide.

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path”…this phrase from a familiar song popped into my head when I learned that “lamp” would by my prompt word. The specific image of a lamp that came to mind was one that was used in biblical times…that of a simple clay vessel with a spout to one side, filled with oil and a wick coming out the spout. This is not a major light source. In fact it would probably barely light up a small room.

I’m reminded of those bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom to come and the good bridesmaids had extra oil, the bad ones did not. Probably the light from all available lamps would have been necessary for any significant amount of light, so having some lamps not available negatively impacted everyone.

If one is walking down a path with one of these lamps, you probably cannot see more than a few steps ahead at a time. You must proceed down the path one confident step at a time, trusting that when you need to see the next part of the path it will be illuminated but not before you need to see it. But the path is there, and it is lit, and the next step must be taken if we are to get anywhere.

Often we are anxious to see the end of the path. But with this lamp you must trust that you will get there. If we can learn to focus on one step at a time and trust that we are on the right path, we can enjoy each step…feel the earth, look only at what we can immediately see…then when we get to the end of the path, we can reflect back and appreciate the journey.

Our job is here is to keep the lamp lit, and follow the path. Sometimes we don’t want to do either. Keeping the lamp full of oil, or having the patience to follow this dimly lit path sometimes seem arduous, or pointless, or just too much effort. But we can’t deny our journey, it is before us. So we take one barely lit step at a time. We might keep the lamp lit by reading the bible, hearing a sermon, praying being with other believers, or whatever keeps your lamp going. For me one of those things is choreographing, for others it might be writing, or painting, or reading, walking, running, mountain bike riding, skiing, playing an instrument, singing. All our “lamps” are unique, but properly attended to they will light our path, but only one step at a time. So we must keep at it. We must keep our lamps lit.

Kathy Croughan lives in California with her husband and two sons, all engineers. To keep her sanity, or to prove she’s insane, she can sometimes be found dancing around the pews at Claremont Presbyterian Church.

 

Stump is an Advent blogging project of Claremont Presbyterian Church. It’s 30 days of posts exloring the symbolism of The Jesse Tree by members of the CPC family far and wide.

In the Old Testament book of Ruth, Naomi and Ruth, both widows, migrate from the land of Moab, Ruth’s homeland, to the land of Boaz, Naomi’s kinsman and home to Bethlehem. Boaz offers Ruth, a Moabite, gleaning privileges (following the harvesters and picking the stray grains of barley), protection and a means of livelihood at the time of the harvest. What begins as a tender account of a mother-in-law/daughter-in-law friendship becomes a commentary on the relationship between a wealthy Israelite landowner and a poor Moabite foreigner.

This journey to Bethlehem and the marriage between Boaz and Ruth that produces a son, nestled by Naomi and named Obed by the neighborhood women, links Ruth to a line of inheritance from Jesse to David to the Messiah – the shoot that arises from the stump of Jesse so poetically iterated in Isaiah 11: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him…with righteousness he shall judge the poor and decide with equity for the meek of the earth.”

In the early 80’s members of our church, CPC, led by then assistant pastor, Stephen Williams, visited a project in the San Diego/Tijuana area, Los Ninos, which employed gleaning as a practice to feed those incarcerated in the Tijuana jail. Los Ninos volunteers picked/gleaned oranges supplied by affluent ranchers on the US side of the border and then ventured into Tijuana to the jail to supplement the prisoners’ daily provision of tortillas and beans with citrus.

The jail, reportedly, was a three story structure with cells on each level surrounding a courtyard where family members and volunteers could thrust food through the bars and engage prisoners in conversation.

Our son, Jim, in between college graduation and employment, made several trips to Los Ninos as a volunteer, gleaning oranges and visiting the Tijuana jail. It was an eye opening and jolting experience: the sights, the sounds, the odors, the 12 prisoners to a cell, the incessant screaming, the daily hosing of the cells from the third tier to the first, the offal pouring down into the courtyard.

Many of the inhabitants of the jail were refugees from Central America, our Contra supported war under the Reagan administration. With few places offering asylum, the jail proved to be a refuge of sorts and was a visible demonstration of our Central American policy that affected the poor and vulnerable. Not so different today is the immigration from Central America, parents and children attempting to cross from Mexico into the US to escape grinding poverty and violence.

One memorable day Jim was offering an orange through the bars of a cell to the eagerly outstretched hand of a prisoner. In a moment of solidarity, the man took the orange, peeled it, and then offered Jim a slice through the bars. He and this unknown prisoner stood on either side of the iron barrier sharing the orange and metaphorically journeying to Bethlehem.

For Christians, God’s “preferential option for the poor”, embodied in the life of Jesus, challenges us to address the inequities and contradictions that have barred the immigrant strangers, the millions, who have been in our midst for so long, and to accomplish transformative institutional change.

For this it is necessary to journey to Bethlehem and to be political.

Elsie Harber is a retired teacher from the Pomona Unified School District and a member of Claremont Presbyterian Church for 45 years. She lives at Pilgrim Place where she participates in two writing groups.

Stump is a blogging project of Claremont Presbyterian Church.

For some people nothing would happen without the last minute. The beating of the clock whips us into taking the action we know we want to take and getting that thing DONE.

During the holidays it seems like the last minute is always right now. I hate the last minute, and there are times when I cannot avoid suffering under the last minute’s cruel whip.

Is that melodramatic? There is real suffering in the world, I know. This time of year charity groups solicit my donations to help the suffering around the world. As I rush from the cramped minute to the next overcrowded hour I am annoyed and then guilty about the suffering faces peering at me from pamphlets.

I am so blessed. Why do I feel like a victim? No one should be a victim. If I could, I would wave a magic want and make all victimhood disappear from the world.

I’ve heard victimhood describes as part of a triangle. If I see myself as a victim, then I long for a rescuer to save me from the one persecuting me. You see? Three roles: victim-persecutor-rescuer. There is a place for everyone. I don’t want to be a victim, and I certainly don’t want to persecute anyone. I guess that means it’s my job to rescue people!

Until I become the victim on the people who become co-dependent on me to rescue them. So then I switch places and become a victim. And then I might get mad and take it out on the person I was rescuing and start persecuting.

It’s a painful cycle. I am tired of it.

There is real suffering in the world. Our archetypical bad guys, the Nazis, really did have the concentration camps. Victor Frankl survived the holocaust and wrote about how it changed him. In his book Man’s Search for Meaning he said this:
“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”

Can I declare myself no longer a victim? Frankl seemed to find a way to do just that in circumstances far more difficult than mine. Can I have compassion on those I have previously seen as persecutors? Can I support people in rescuing themselves, and forgo the glory of being a rescuer?

Maybe I can imagine such a thing. I can start with myself, not whipping myself into a cranky frenzy during this holiday season.

Peace on Earth begins with each one of us.

Murphy Daley is cross posting today’s piece on her website www.writtenbymurphy.com. You can sign up to receive the Weekly Wonder in your inbox by Clicking Here.

Stump is a blogging project of Claremont Presbyterian Church

Reconciliation is a theme in the Bible and also in everyday life. The definition of reconciliation is the restoration of friendly relations. Reconciliation happens in many ways. Friendly relations can be restored with incentive, time, faith, and even through confrontation. All of which require persistence in order to achieve something greater, companionship.

The story of Joseph is in Genesis chapter 37-50. It is like a fairy tale where a father has many sons, of which he favors a son called Joseph the most. Naturally, his brothers get jealous and sell their brother as a slave to the Egyptians where Joseph advances through the ranks until he becomes the ruler of Egypt. One day, Joseph has a vision that instructs him to save and stockpile grain for future bad harvests. Years later, a famine spreads but Egypt is prepared. 

The tale resumes when Joseph’s older brothers travel to Egypt to buy grain. His family does not recognize Joseph at first and Joseph reveals his identity to his own family. Joseph could be petty but offers the family that spurned him a large feast and invites them into his palace. Joseph then sends his brothers to fetch their father and bring him back to his kingdom. However, crafty Joseph plants a chalice in one of his brother’s bags. Accused of stealing, Joseph holds the youngest brother hostage, ensuring that his family would return. This action could provoke more family drama and cause more distress and feuds. Wars have started over less. However, the brothers return with their family and they live happily ever after.

The moral of the story is that holding a brother captive to restore his family could have monumentally bad consequences. The Cup of Reconciliation could just as easily be the Cup of Estrangement. The reason it is not is because the cup becomes a tool to reunite, to have conversations, and finally, with persistence, the family overcomes their awkward past.

Henrick Kohnen is a Sophomore at Claremont High and a member of Claremont Presbyterian Church. His latest English assignment is to follow a blog and when his mother discovered this, he was assigned the additional task of writing a post for the Stump blog. When not doing homework, Henrick eats enormous quantities of Skittles.

Stump is a blogging project of Claremont Presbyterian Church

Have you ever had a coat of many colors? I have. I didn’t wear it very often because it was so bright and called out for others to notice me. A group of Filipino friends gave it to me a number of years ago. The red fabric was not only covered with embroidered, multicolored flowers but the designs included cut-out features. That meant the jacket was not for warmth; it was purely for decoration. I often wore it on Pentecost when red is the designated liturgical color. There was nothing religious about the jacket but friends still called it my coat of many colors or my “holy” coat because of the embroidered edges of the cut-out “holes.”

In the Old Testament story Joseph’s father gives him a coat of spectacular, variegated colors. At least that’s what I thought when I chose to share on this topic for our stumpblog. You can imagine how surprised I was when I re-read the story of Joseph in Genesis 37 to 50 and discovered that the phrase “coat of many colors” is an uncertain translation of some Hebrewwords that can also be translated “robe with long sleeves.”

Think how many pictures have been painted of Joseph in his rainbow-hued cloak. There’s even a musical entitled “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.” It upset me to think that the unique gift Joseph received from his father might have been brown or tan, something woven of natural fibers.

Then my mind switched to thinking about whether the color of Joseph’s cloak mattered to the story. I realized that it didn’t make any difference what color Joseph’s coat was. What mattered was that this gift from Jacob, his father, is one of a string of actions that cause Joseph’s brothers to be very jealous of him. That leads to Joseph being sold to some desert traders who take him to Egypt where he ends up in the Pharaoh’s household.

And that’s just the beginning of one of the longest stories in the Bible—13 chapters of intrigue and deception but in the end Joseph and his father and brothers do finally get back together, reconciled and forgiven. Take time to read about the “ins and outs” of Joseph’s life. Notice what the Bible says about the role God plays in protecting Joseph, using Joseph and giving Joseph an opportunity to forgive his brothers and be re-united with them and his father.

This is an amazing story that I got pulled into this Advent because I thought I was writing about Joseph’s rainbow-colored coat. Then I discovered I was writing about a life lived in the protection and service of the living, forgiving God. God is searching for each of us this Advent season. The Spirit wants to speak to you, probably in unexpected ways. Join me in waiting and watching. You’ll be surprised, like I was, and filled with gratitude for a deepening relationship with the Holy One who is always present with you. And it doesn’t matter what color your coat is!

Gail Duggan is a retired Mission Co-Worker and Ruling Elder who worships at Claremont Presbyterian Church and serves on the Session.