For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what God has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.  Ephesians 2:8-10

I remember several years ago, during a time when the PC(USA) was struggling with what felt like crippling conflict, Tod Bolsinger invited several presbytery leaders to meet at the church he was then pastoring, in San Juan Capistrano. I can’t even remember exactly why he called us together, but it felt like he was trying to provide a safe space when people could talk about their differing views in a safe place, so that folks could hear each other. What was revealed to me in that meeting was the way different people used the same words, but not understanding the depth of meaning in those words.

For instance, there was a discussion at that time about the possibility of establishing presbyteries on the basis of affiliation, rather than geography. The proponents of this move considered geographic vs. affiliate presbyteries to be a semantic difference, and in fact the geographic basis was an outdated model, before technology erased distance between affiliated churches. (Of course, this issue of membership in a “neighborhood” church has become even more ambiguous, now that we carry out so much of our church work on-line.)

I was surprised at my own reaction to this discussion. For me, the concept of geographic presbyteries was not at all semantics, but a reflection of our trust in the sovereignty of God. We are called together by God to serve together, regardless of our differences—or rather, we are better able to serve our diverse communities together, because of our differences, as long as we recognized God’s authority and wisdom in calling us to serve in this particular corner of God’s world, at this moment in time. To put it bluntly, we don’t choose to be San Gabriel Presbytery, God brought us together to be San Gabriel Presbytery, for the sake of Christ’s mission in San Gabriel Valley. And therefore, whatever we do is not based on how well we like or agree with each other, but it is based on the grace that God has given us, in each other.

When we gather as a presbytery, as we did last Tuesday, we have the opportunity to witness God’s grace in bringing us together. I love this presbytery, the people in it and the work we do together, but I have to remind myself that we are great and unique not because we have crafted ourselves this way, but because God has made us this way.

So last Tuesday, we celebrated who we are and whom we welcome, we heard about some of the work we enable, and we even talked about how we can organize to continue that work.

For instance, we welcomed unanimously Rev. Dr. Daniel Lee to be a minister member, as he continues to do ground-breaking, empowering theological work among Asians and Asian-Americans, especially at Fuller Theological Seminary. Several people saw the potential for Daniel to be a thought and justice leader in our presbytery, and we are thrilled and grateful to welcome him. We also honored the good work of Revs. Tarry Nelson and Ann Oglesby-Edwards, both of whom were ordained by this presbytery, served in several other capacities, and returned to San Gabriel and now have the status of “Honorably Retired.” And we approved Rev Vikki Randall coming to serve as interim pastor of First Presbyterian Altadena, and Rev. Tom Eggebeen as interim for Westminster Presbyterian, Pasadena, and we pray for Westminster Temple City, where Vikki is finishing her temporary pastorate.

The greatest gifts God typically gives the church are the Gospel and people, and Daniel, Tarry, Ann, Vikki, and Tom all exemplify the varied and wonderful ways God works through individuals, for the sake of many communities of faith.

While every individual and every church has a calling, we as a presbytery are able to support churches as they seek to do their part of Christ’s mission. We were happy to hear from Rev. Margarita Reyes, who talked about the historic ministry of what is now called Puente de Esperanza, started back in 1891 as the “Los Angeles Mission.” This congregation has evolved and moved with the times—and in partnership with the presbytery, including working with La Casa de San Gabriel, moving to Rosemead, and now serving the La Puente community with a variety of services, including life classes, music, and Bible study and worship. And La Casa de San Gabriel continues to serve the community in San Gabriel with a preschool, parenting classes, and a host of other services. Our presbytery offering went to La Casa, a mission of San Gabriel Presbytery since 1946. You can still give, including online at https://sangabpres.org/donate/ — just choose “give to Presbytery Offering” in the drop-down menu. Another support for the larger community is through Self-Development of People. Most recently we joined with San Fernando Presbytery to support Colectivo Planta, a group of women who take in damaged or weary plants and renovate them for resale.

Elder Stephene Moseley of Community Presbyterian in El Monte talked about their bustling and innovative food pantry, supporting the varied needs and traditions of their neighbors. They provide fresh produce and North American basics, but they also offer food that is preferred by Latin and Asian families, as well as food for pets and diapers for infants. They have stayed open through the pandemic, serving about 350 families per week, totaling over 50,000 individuals a year.

These churches have been transformed for and by mission. Puente had to leave their beloved facility in Rosemead to start anew in La Puente, because the need for a Spanish-speaking church was greater there. Community Presbyterian has been without a pastor for many years now, worshiping with a rotating circle of preachers. But they have continued to serve the community through the great work of Clarke and

Stephene Moseley, and their brother Eddie Zabala. God does send us grace to do God’s work, sometimes in surprising ways. During breakout groups, we were able to share the myriad ways God offers us transformative experiences, in as varied ways as a church significantly changing their worship life first because of COVID but now because of the broader reach of online worship, or a pastor who was able to taste what it feels like to be the “other” as he worked on another continent, enabling him to bring that empathy to the immigrant communities in San Gabriel Valley.

Finally, we touched on ways we organize for mission. We benefited from the good and promising work of Sam Bang, who now serves ¾-time, as Business Manager and Associate for Ministry Development. We moved the on-going work of Matthew 25 activities to the Education, Equipping, and Empowerment (EEE) Committee. And we will review the temporary committee structure that has the portfolio of the Vision Strategy Team distributed to existing groups, namely:

• the Executive Commission (PEC), for long-term strategy for the Presbytery as a whole
• EEE, for providing leadership development and other resources for existing congregations, and
• Commission on Ministry, for supporting and credentialing new worshiping

The PEC welcomes feedback whether to reinstate VST, or continue with this use of existing committees.

Truly, we are a channel of God’s grace, and though this column is long, I hope you agree that it is long because there is much to celebrate in the life of our presbytery, as we share God’s love with the world.

Blessings,
Wendy

That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea.

John 21:7

I was looking at the lectionary for this column, and I was struck how each Gospel reading for the first three Sundays of Easter is a story about the risen Christ appearing to his people, and in each story, they did not recognize Jesus:

• John 20:1-18: Mary thinks the risen Jesus is the gardener
• John 20:19-31: Thomas will only believe it is Jesus after Jesus invites him to touch his wounds
• John 21:1-19: several disciples go fishing, and don’t recognize Jesus when he first appears; when the disciple whom Jesus loved recognizes him, Peter puts on some clothes and jumps into the

I was taught that the risen Christ, still bearing the wounds from the cross, was changed enough to make him unrecognizable. So even Jesus goes through some kind of transformation, as is suggested for all of us. Now this transformation strikes me as a particularly painful one, but I’ve come to appreciate how any major transformation requires some kind of break or loss, and at some level it feels like a death. For something to come new, we often have to let go of something that was part of us. I remember driving with my best friend when I was a new pastor, and I took a wrong turn but was not bothered by it. She exclaimed, “You’ve become so easy-going lately. It’s [bleep]ing annoying!”

As we continue to grapple with COVID (dare I say post-COVID?), our churches are trying to figure out what they will look like into the future. We are not “going back to normal,” because every church is noticing that some members are not coming back into the sanctuary. And many of our churches have picked up participants through their online worship, so they are continuing their online presence. Our Presbytery committees and commissions are continuing to meet by Zoom, and tomorrow evening’s Presbytery meeting is on Zoom. We have found that not only do we get high attendance on Zoom, but there are certain benefits with Zoom, like the chat function, for chatting (duh) but also for giving links to other resources. I’ve enjoyed seeing folks congratulate people as they advance to candidacy, or welcome folks to our presbytery—and we will have that opportunity tomorrow night, as we hear from Daniel Lee, who is Academic Dean for the Center for Asian American Theology and Ministry and Assistant Professor of Theology and Asian American Studies at Fuller. Wow what a title—I just think of him as a great guy, a bright light, and a kindred spirit for San Gabriel Presbytery. One of our great joys—and a personal goal of mine—is to bring more diverse people to our table and learn from each other. I am thrilled with the gifts and insight that Daniel will bring to our ministry.

Our new moderator, Dave Tomlinson, will have us look at some of the more innovative approaches to ministry that San Gabriel Presbytery has taken, and that’s great, because we have done some good work in our churches and communities, and sometimes we forget about them. We can be inspired to continue looking at new ways to be church as we consider bold steps that have already been taken. These steps, and the diversity of our membership and leadership, add to the unique identity of San Gabriel Presbytery.

The ways we identify ourselves as individuals in the world continue to grow and evolve. You may notice that some folks name their preferred pronouns, which provides the opportunity for each of us to be recognized for our gender identity. I confess that the newly broadened ways we can share our identities can be daunting sometimes—like if an individual uses the pronoun “they,” do we use singular or plural verbs? (Wikipedia says plural verb, but the reflexive pronoun is “themself.”)

And there are evolving ways to identify our neurological or physical differences. For instance, some of us were taught “person-first” language, so “person with a disability” was preferred over “disabled person.” However, in an article on thinkinclusive.us, Emily Ladau writes about her issues with person- first language, especially when it is used without bothering to ask the person what they prefer, or when using person-first language leaves the impression that “disability” is a negative limitation rather than an identity. I understand this with Deaf persons who do not ask to be called “persons with deafness” but who do not consider deafness as a disability. They see being Deaf as a cultural identity. And we are beginning to appreciate the concept of neurodiversity, because we all have different levels of various neurodevelopmental conditions such as autism, ADHD, dyslexia, OCD, etc.

If you’re like me, this can all be very confusing. The only response that I can think of is to get to know individuals for how they describe themselves, not by what category we put on others for our convenience. In the National Black Presbyterian Caucus’ recent Good Friday service, Rev. Catherine Hughes said, “‘Sinner’ is a category, not the person. Jesus does not see categories. Jesus sees persons.”

In a time when social media can make us global pundits overnight, and an increasingly complicated world makes us want to simplify, not complexify, our language, do we have the patience and desire to dedicate time to get to know individuals and learn how they see themselves?

Another option is to find a more accurate, respectful way to describe others. So we can all claim that we are children of God, or people for whom Jesus died. But so are countless others—and maybe that’s the point. Every human was created by God, with gifts and spirit that God has blessed. And who are we to ignore the love and care God has for these other individuals, as God has loved and cared for me?

May we find the time and energy to get to know each other more fully, and celebrate who God has made in each person. In our presbytery meetings, we are looking for more ways to make connections among the wonderful people of our presbytery. May we follow up with more connections, and come to appreciate the joy of seeing more of God’s kin-dom as we do.

See you tomorrow,

Wendy

Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.    1 Corinthians 15:58

Christ is risen! Alleluia!

I pray that you had a joyous Easter yesterday.

In one Easter sermon, I heard someone suggest that Easter is God giving us a second chance. My first reaction was “not the second, but the millionth.” But whether for the second or millionth time, Easter is an opportunity for us to remember, and believe, and recommit to the saving grace of our God, shown in the resurrection of Jesus. When Christ rises, we rise too, and the faith that Jesus’ disciples had, and the work they did together, was redeemed.

In times like these, to celebrate Easter is like a protest against despair. What seemed like a humiliating defeat for Jesus’ disciples became, in ways they couldn’t even comprehend, love’s victory over death. As Paul would write in 1 Corinthians 15:55,

Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?

So yes, Easter is proof that God has not given up on us, and we are not condemned to despair and death. We do have the opportunity to try again, and live free from our past. But because we know that God will go to hell and back for us, that death is not the final answer, we can have the courage of not just overcoming our past, but striking out into something new. We can even try the unexplored, knowing that even if we make a mistake, or take a detour, God will not leave us abandoned to fate. I think God smiles more when we take a new path in faith, even if we stumble, than if we stick to the tried and true because we are afraid or don’t heed God’s call to move forward.

When we look around, there is much to concern us, and I have heard of the fears of church leaders who wonder if their church will ever go back to “normal” or if they will feel confident in their church’s future again. We do have a couple of churches that are facing some serious setbacks, and several churches who are or will be seeking new pastoral leadership. What with the continuing uncertainty of COVID (Is there a new variant coming? Do we keep masking?), and the horrific backdrop of the war in Ukraine, it would be easy to wonder whether our work, our feeble attempts, will ever be enough. But actually, I’ve found that when things are in disarray, we are more free to try something new.

And the good news is that we are not working alone. We have our partners in ministry, of course, and we have God directing, using, and magnifying our work. Someone once said that we are weaving a beautiful tapestry, but we only see the back of the tapestry, so we only see the knots and loose ends. I think we are weaving that beautiful tapestry, but each of us only sees a few stitches—and we may not even know why our purple stitches got pushed up against those green stitches, because we can’t see the blooming iris we create together.

Yesterday was the first worship service for Interwoven, our new worshiping community. The service was moving, and hope-filled, and very well-organized, and faithful. And there was mention of the legacy of South Hills Presbyterian Church, which was closed several years ago. We still miss that church, but their ministry lives on in the lives of the members of the church, and now through Interwoven, which is partially funded by the proceeds of the South Hills church property. Seeing the diverse group of people worshiping together at Interwoven, I pray that God continues to guide them and all of us to take this new path, giving thanks for providing us the resources from the good work of a prior generation. And I pray that the people of South Hills know that their work was not in vain, but produces fruit over the years, in ways they may not even know.

Indeed, may this Easter season be a time of new hopes, new visions, new life and energy and courage to go forth into this very changed world, as changed people. We have the strength of our roots, our faith, our resources, and our traditions. Let us go out like Mary, and declare, “I have seen the Lord!”

There is a Korean Christian poet named Ku Sang who wrote of this renewed spirit: On an old plum tree stump, seemingly dead and rotten, like a garland of victory flowers gleam, dazzling.

Rooted in you, even in death all things remain alive;
we see them reborn, transfigured.
How then could we doubt our own Resurrection since by your own you gave us proof?

Since there is your Resurrection and ours, Truth exists;
since there is your Resurrection and ours, Justice triumphs;
since there is your Resurrection and ours, suffering accepted has value;
since there is your Resurrection and ours, our faith, hope, love, are not in vain; since there is your Resurrection and ours, our lives are not an empty abyss. 

May we hold fast to the knowledge of resurrection love, and with that love, may we go out and live into the promise—may we be the promise—for our churches, our families, and for the world. 

Beholding the Resurrection,

Wendy

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life. Romans 5:6, 10

I believe that Lent, more than anything, is the season for us to reflect on our own fragile, mortal nature, and our need for God’s love to save us—and our gratitude for the lengths God took to do so. If this is true for the whole season of Lent, surely Holy Week is the time when we are at our most broken, and receive love at its extreme.

Last week I was confronted with how fragile and unpredictable life is.

First, I heard from my friend, Ralph Hawkins, pastor of Northminster Presbyterian in Macon, Georgia. You may have heard that Macon was hit by some major storms last week—and the steeple of Northminster was one of the casualties. Ralph was actually at the church when he heard the 8,000-pound steeple snap off and land over his office. Ever optimistic, Ralph was more than anything grateful that no one was hurt, and fascinated by the company that was able to take down the steeple the next day. They ended up having Palm Sunday worship in the parking lot.

Northminster, Before and After

The next day, I was about to recommend Bruce Reyes-Chow to a colleague in North Carolina who was looking for resources to help her churches envision the new post-pandemic church. (You may remember Bruce, who was a great plenary speaker for our WinterFest a year ago and is always five steps ahead of the rest of us.) Now I don’t do social media, so don’t keep up with Bruce very well, though once in a while I get a Facebook post as he chronicles his battle with long COVID. Checking up on his web presence, I was so saddened to learn that the last two years have taken so much out of him that he had to resign from his pastorate at First Presbyterian Palo Alto, after serving only three years. Now Bruce is one of those types of people who is always doing 17 things at once, so even though I know he had been hospitalized with COVID, and he lost his beloved grandmother to COVID, I would never have imagined he would ever slow down, let alone have to tell his congregation, “I have no more to give.”

Now I don’t see Ralph or Bruce as ungodly or enemies of God. In fact, I have huge respect and admiration for both of them. And yet, they—we—are mortal, subject to disease or weather or building parts collapsing over our heads. What do we do?

I’ve never had to face such crises myself. (I like to think God knows I’m too weak to withstand that sort of thing.) But between what Ralph and Bruce faced, and what the people of Ukraine are facing every day, and what the victims of COVID and health care workers had to deal with these past two years, I can imagine a little of the shock and despair of Jesus’ followers, seeing him beaten, humiliated, and left to die on a cross. How do we get through all the grief that can fall on us?

Last night I was able to experience the world premiere of the “Pandemic Requiem,” a full requiem composed by Claremont Presbyterian Church’s Director of Music, Geri DeMasi. You can watch it on their Facebook page, or click here. The movements of the traditional requiem form (including Kyrie eleison, Sanctus, Agnus Dei, Pie Jesu, etc.) were interspersed with news items from the last two years,

but also a few personal stories from the life of Claremont Presbyterian. Claremont’s pastor Karen Sapio said that she would encourage other churches to do something similar, using their own local news and personal stories. If you don’t have a resident composer, you can use other music, or once I was in a choir that did a concert requiem using movements from different compositions that already exist.

This evening was so moving, with touchstones from the County Department of Health, or local perspectives on the murder of George Floyd and the January 6^th in Washington, DC—but the personal stories brought tears to our eyes. Through their stories, we could see how even the darkest moments could be illuminated with the hope of a father’s love for his college-aged son, or a wedding, or a long- awaited adoption, or even the death of one’s wife, which could be commemorated in the beauty of this requiem.

Next Sunday, Easter Sunday, is the first worship service for Interwoven, at 4 pm. For now, they will worship at La Cañada Presbyterian Church. What a celebration this will be! Already the leaders of Interwoven, Harlan Redmond and Ally Lee and the launch team including Mary Ellen Azada, have been sources of inspiration and challenge for us, and I am so grateful. Interwoven is being born with the prayers and blessings of the people of their community, of the National Black Presbyterian Caucus- Southern California Chapter, of friends in many churches, and with the spirit of South Hills Presbyterian Church, which left a legacy to be used for a church that offers the community commitment and gifts of the Black church tradition for a new, welcoming, inclusive generation.

Holy Week is the time when we are reminded of our fragile, mortal nature. But Holy Week does not end with Good Friday. We can look ahead to the Day of Resurrection, when God proves for us that death is not the final answer, that we are not left to our brokenness, that there is new life, even springing out of our deepest despair. Because Jesus rises, we too rise. We may be mortal, but we are loved for eternity.

May you know the life-giving, brutal, death-defeating love of our God, in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In Jesus, we see that God will do whatever is necessary to save us. May we respond to God’s saving grace with our life’s devotion.

Looking to the Resurrection,

Wendy

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
Hebrews 13:2

This weekend I got an email from Rev. Larry Ballenger, one of those great retired pastors who has so much love, talent, faith, and joy that he seems to have endless energy to serve and support folks in many congregations.

Larry emailed to tell me that our mutual friend Eddie Zabala was in the hospital and the family sadly had to have his life support removed. Larry was there to pray with him and his large family. Soon after, Larry forwarded me the email to say that Eddie died later the same night Larry visited.

The email came from Stephene Moseley; she and husband Clarke are the lead elders for Community Presbyterian Church in El Monte. I texted Rev. Dr. James Lee, president of International Theological Seminary, to make sure he knew about Eddie’s passing; Stephene had just texted him to let him know. Because Community does not have a settled pastor, James had been their moderator when ITS was up the street on Peck Road, and now Larry is their moderator. While I tend to think churches do better with a pastor, Community El Monte has taught me a few lessons. They do not have a pastor, but several of our retirees take turns preaching there. They are the site of one of our largest food pantries in San Gabriel Presbytery, serving about 300 families a week and 18,000 families per year. They are known for showing care and respect to their neighbors through their food pantry, giving them choices that meet their various cultural tastes, help them care for their pets, and provide diapers for their young ones. Community El Monte seems to have weathered COVID pretty well, I think because they have minimal staffing costs.

Several years ago, Eddie came to Community El Monte. Eddie had just been paroled, and the prison chaplain told him to look for a Calvinist church to help him on his new strong path as a Christian. (Interestingly, another of our small churches mentioned a similar visit from a parolee; I’m guessing there was a Calvinist chaplain at the local correctional center.) I don’t know the details, but by the time I met Eddie, he was a member of the church, was living on the campus and caring for the building and grounds, and was their best evangelist, sharing his joy in Christ with everyone he met, including anyone walking past the church when he was working in the yard. He was ordained a deacon, and then an elder of the church—in fact I was happy to see Eddie at several presbytery meetings. But I got to know Eddie best as part of the team that discerned how to utilize the funds from the El Calvario youth center property, which was sold after the center was closed down by the city. We took a photo at one of our meetings—Eddie is the third person from the right.

In our staid Presbyterian denomination, we don’t have enough Eddies among us. Though he loved the church, he was Pentecostal at heart. I learned early on that if we had time constraints, we could not ask Eddie to pray, because he did not pray in short snippets—it was full-bodied, expansive, and passionate. In fact, he once told me that he had to work really hard to stay in the back pew during worship, because he used to come up to the chancel during prayer time, filled with the Holy Spirit, and it scared people.

So he would hold on to the pew to keep himself in place, praying to the Spirit to behave (I’m not sure if that was for him, or for the Spirit) so that all may worship quietly in the sanctuary.

I once commented to Elder Clarke Moseley how lovely and unusual it was to see a Presbyterian church open themselves so fully to care for and connect with someone who is so far from a typical Presbyterian. In all earnestness, Clarke shared how grateful he was for Eddie, and how much Eddie transformed him, and the church. I can agree that Eddie transformed me, too.

All of us who knew Eddie miss him, and we pray for Community El Monte and Eddie’s family, who will not be the same without him. But more than I’ve ever felt before, I have a strong sense that Eddie is rejoicing in heaven, having run and jumped into the arms of his heavenly Father, and he is now dancing and shouting and kneeling and praying and praising and, I trust, watching and smiling over us, now that his earthly work is done.

It seems that every time we turn around, there are people looking for a community to receive and love them, give them a safe place to be and to serve, and to come alongside them in faith and mutual service, whether they are asylum seekers from Central America or Cameroon, refugees from Afghanistan or now Ukraine, or people who are treated with suspicion because of their past lives. As we come closer to the Day of Resurrection, let us remember who came to be one of us, who died for us, and who rose to tell us that we are to receive and care for others, to love them as if they are Jesus—because they are.

May we open our hearts and our churches to the unknown angels who come to our door. And every once in a while, may they be as special as Eddie.

In Christ’s peace,
Wendy