But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
   who are one of the little clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
   one who is to rule in Israel,
whose origin is from of old,
   from ancient days. . . .
And this One shall be peace.

Micah 5:2, 5a

Christmas means many things to different people. It’s almost like a lens through which you can see the values of a person or a culture. For instance, there is the opulence of the rich and powerful, like the White House, where 98 Christmas trees were decorated for the 2023 holiday season; for many reasons, the 2024 holidays are more subdued, so there are only 83 trees throughout the White House this year. In Japan, Christmas traditions have developed thanks to American capitalism, so it’s seen as more of a romantic holiday, and they say (I still can’t believe it) that a popular Christmas food is Kentucky Fried Chicken. For many of our churches, there’s great emphasis on the Christmas Eve worship service, but even in the biblical accounts of the Christmas event, one can focus on the heavenly host singing glory in the night sky, or the fear and excitement of lowly shepherds, or the vulnerability of a little baby born to a displaced couple and placed in an animal feed trough for a cradle.

Looking back at some of my Advent-season columns, it seems that I tended to focus on the hope that comes with the birth of baby Jesus, especially when the world needs his promise of restoration, now more than ever. What is most important to you about Christmas?

In my life, I have often been intrigued by God’s choice to bring the salvation of the world through a small, unimportant nation in the Middle East. Israel was never a great power in the world; in fact it was but a speedbump between great empires like Persia and Egypt and Rome. At that, Jesus didn’t come from the local powers in Judea; his birth was the fulfillment of Micah’s prophecy, that the ruler of Israel, the great one of peace, would come from Bethlehem, “one of the little clans of Judah.” Why wouldn’t Jesus come from Rome, or Egypt, or even China?

But that’s the point. Repeatedly, God chooses to work through the small and the weak so that God’s wondrous works can be seen as God’s, not the efforts of great human powers. The role of God’s vessels of glory, like the young girl Mary, is not as initiator of the miraculous, but the one who says “yes” when God comes with a call. Mary could not give birth to the savior of the world on her own—but when the angel Gabriel suggests the perplexing and the impossible, she discerns the will of God and agrees.

In our little presbytery, I have suggested that God is working wonders among us. I have even called what is happening at Live Oak Community Church in Temple City as miraculous. Since then, I have had a couple of churches say “why can’t we do what Live Oak did?” But that’s the point of miracles—they are far beyond what we can call up for ourselves. That doesn’t mean God doesn’t will for the best for all of us, but it will happen in different ways, on God’s initiative. Our job is to pray, and ask for guidance— and to dare to say “yes,” whether God suggests what is within our plans for the future, or if God suggests the improbable. 

For me, this is the great hope of Christmas—that God sees every one of us, even the small and the seemingly inconsequential, and God can do great things through us and for us, regardless of our ability to do for ourselves. Even if we worry about the troubles of our world, and wonder about the future of our church, we can call out to God, and keep our eyes open for God’s response, trusting that God knows and is able to do what is best.

As we continue through Advent, may we wait with confidence in God’s love, and God’s blessings for us, not because we have earned it, or can dictate to God what we want or need. But we can appreciate how God can do what is so much more than we can even imagine—and then we can join with shepherds and cattle and foreign wise men and choirs of angels to give God all the glory, held in the miracle of baby Jesus’ birth, carried forth by all of us into this hurting world.

Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to all who know God’s favor. AMEN.

With thanks and praise for Christ,

Wendy

John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Bear fruits worthy of repentance.”

Luke 3:7-8a

I don’t know how many Presbyterian pastors preach the lectionary. I don’t think it was common at all back in the day, and many folks are still not familiar with the liturgical year or the lectionary. But I think that the lectionary has helped us standardize the narrative arc of the Advent season, so during Advent we are used to hearing one Sunday pointing to Christ’s second coming, at least one Sunday referencing John the Baptist calling for repentance, one Sunday on Mary’s pregnancy, and the leadup to Jesus’ birth.

There are many images of John—prophet, forerunner and rival of Jesus, cousin of Jesus, evangelist, baptizer, preacher, and, let’s face it, wild man yelling out in the desert. His message, delivered with shocking invective, is supposed to be the good news that salvation comes through repentance. I’m sure most people ignored him—I doubt he’d be able to do what he did in the middle of genteel society, which is probably why he was out in the wilderness, in his clothes of camel’s hair eating his diet of locusts and wild honey. In spite of being pretty “off the grid,” he managed to attract some followers, whom he greets with affectionate terms like “you brood of vipers.”

Repentance is the act of changing one’s thinking, away from self-centered sin and towards God. But honestly, I have to wonder how people listened to this very unusual, passionate, and brutally graphic prophet—would he be your idea of someone to receive guidance from? And what would you need to repent from?

My imagination has led me to consider that those who listened to John were willing to recognize the divine wisdom of this wild man, and that they must have been willing to repent from the good common sense that we are used to. And if I had to apply this scenario to today’s world, it reminds me of the many suggestions to Democrats of what they need to change to win back the many folks who turned to Donald Trump, who uses graphic and almost violent language to demand change, and who has succeeded in attracting some seriously passionate followers.

Of the many theories of what Democrats must repent from, the most intriguing to me has been a self- proclaimed moral superiority. I’m sure that I am guilty of this too many times to count! But what I remember best are the times when I have felt that arrogance directed towards me, especially by well- educated dominant culture liberals who see my Asian-ness or learn of my Christian faith, and assume I am conservative or not woke enough, and are happy to teach or correct me when I do not align with the proper vocabulary of the moment. This became most clear during discussions about an overture to last summer’s General Assembly, when I realized how reticent I was to attempt to articulate my concerns for fear of the backlash that I’d face. When I did write to one colleague, I felt the need to first list my “cred” by pointing to the decades my family and I have been vocal advocates for the cause—he then publicly pointed to his own advocacy, and others followed suit, because we live in such a polarized society that if you don’t follow the most outspoken thought leaders, you’re dismissed as ignorant or behind the times, or worse.

But, we ask, why would we step back from offering our insights that so benefit the world? Thank God for Scripture reminding us to “live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly, do not claim to be wiser than you are.” (Romans 12:16) We would need a small dose of this Scripture lesson just to open to the possibility that we were wrong, especially considering where this new guidance might be coming from!

As we await again the coming of the Lord breaking into our human history, may we remember that when God’s beloved child came into this world, he came not to a palace but to a cow’s stall, and the heavenly messengers announced his birth not to the rich and powerful but to shepherds. If the Savior of the world entrusts those most lowly outsiders with this astounding truth, how do we open to the wisdom that God is giving to the outsiders of our world today?

As we enter into these days of wonder, may we keep our eyes open to the blessings that God offers, even if they are borne by the most unlikely agents of grace.

Praying and waiting,

Wendy

“Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Luke 21:28

Yesterday I heard a truly inspiring sermon. I wasn’t the only one; a 91-year-old woman told the preacher it was one of the best sermons she’d ever heard! Good to know that we have the opportunity to hear the gospel proclaimed so effectively and faithfully in our presbytery.

After the service, I met with the pastor and his wife, and we talked about several things that were very important in my formative years as a seminarian: spirituality, discernment, and sermon writing. More specifically, we discussed how to edit sermons to meet the 15-20 minute limit that most Presbyterians expect in a sermon. I remember my mentor saying that if you preach every week, it’s easier to let go of a particular point because you know you can pick it up some other Sunday.

I remembered that last week, because when I was writing my column about letting go of worry, this voice inside me kept saying “Don’t be a Pollyanna—you still have to be alert!”

Yes, letting go of undue worry does not mean letting go of our senses. I’ve always felt that the best modern-day demonstration of God’s sovereign grace and constant protection is the LA freeway system. I think it’s a miracle that 4-6 million commuters hit the road in LA County every day, with an average of 111 accidents—that’s about 1 accident for every 45,000 drivers! While we don’t need to be overwhelmed with worry about being one of those unlucky 111, we still use our seatbelts and stay alert on the road.

Even with all the comforting Bible passages about God’s care for us, the first Sunday of Advent in all three years of the lectionary includes a Gospel passage warning us to be alert. So yesterday’s passage was Luke 21:25-36 which includes these warnings from Jesus:

There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see “the Son of Man coming in a cloud” with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near. . . .

Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.

Note that Jesus is warning us not to be distracted by “the worries of this life.” So the concern is not that we become careless, but that we be clear where we put our attention. In fact I do believe that we fall short of the bold obedience that Jesus calls us to by focusing on small worries of our own imagination. We focus so much on worries about what might happen that we don’t dare attempt what can transform the world. We worry more about what other people will say or do, and dismiss God by either assuming God will forgive anything, or we doubt that God will protect us if we take the risk of doing God’s will. But God has provided for us; perhaps not exactly as we would wish it, but we have reason to trust that God knows best.

Because I don’t know the mind of God, I cannot guarantee that those who follow God’s will are immune from hardship. But neither can I say that those who hide themselves away from risk are immune, so why not try to do as God suggests?

I share this not because I am so bold. When I served a Native Hawaiian church, I was impressed with how closely they seemed to feel the Spirit, and once they discerned God’s will, they felt resolved to move ahead without fear. One of the lay leaders stated that she could tell when God was speaking by her sense of certainty of the right course to take. I, on the other hand, sensed God’s will with great fear and trepidation. Do you know that if there’s a fire in your building, you should keep the doors shut, especially if you feel the door and it’s warm? Well, that’s how I felt about following God’s will
—as if I’m going through the door that is warm with fire! But even though I’ve taught myself to go through that door in spite of my fears, it doesn’t mean that I don’t keep my eyes open when I go!

And surely, the path that God lays out before us can have its potholes. But there will also be grace, and confirmation that God is with us, and God is pleased. And that is what I have witnessed in the life of San Gabriel Presbytery.

As we begin the season of Advent, we know that this season of anticipation includes warnings to be alert, and the declaration of righteous disruption that comes from the young pregnant virgin Mary. But when we look around—to the continued violence in Gaza, the impacts of climate change, our seeming normalization of gun violence, and suffering in unseen places like Sudan and Congo— disruption is necessary. The great leap of faith for us Christians is to see the potential for salvation not in a spectacular reversal of world events, but in the birth of a baby to a displaced family in an occupied land. How great is our God, and how wondrous is God’s wisdom, to save the world in this quiet and unexpected way!

As we journey with Mary through her pregnancy, as we share the hushed anticipation and hope of a hurting world, as we await the inbreaking of grace the baby Jesus brings, may we stand up and raise our heads, confident that all this and more are part of God’s bold plan of salvation. May we stay alert and trusting in God’s merciful power, even in the face of trouble and doubt. And may these holy days ahead be full of hope and signs of glory—for you and for all the world.

Praying and waiting,

Wendy

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

This is Thanksgiving week, so we join with all Americans of all faiths and no faith to give thanks. But just over a week ago we as a presbytery held a service of lament, because we are so aware of much in the world we are mourning. So, for this Thanksgiving, some of us may have some hesitation as we think of all we can give thanks for.

One thing that we did not mention last week is politics. While clearly there are many people—some, I assume, among members of our presbytery—who are celebrating Donald Trump’s election, there are many people, especially in California, who are beside themselves worrying about what this latest election means. One person, a commercial real estate broker, raised his concern in church that America might not survive, because people put the price of eggs and milk ahead of what’s best for the nation. And I just heard that Ellen DeGeneres moved permanently to England after the election.

Yesterday I heard an interesting Thanksgiving sermon, as the preacher remembered being in New York City the Sunday before Thanksgiving in 2001, two months after the World Trade Center was destroyed on September 11. He remembered attending Riverside Church, and walking around Central Park, noticing how after September 11, New Yorkers were so much more attuned to signs of God’s goodness in their beloved city—the fall colors were glorious, the people were intentional about community, their praise of God in the midst of disaster was robust.

As he preached, I thought how we do not have a disaster that unifies all of us today; the disaster we face is the very division that has reached new depths. And that division is perpetuated in our suspicion or defense of decisions the new administration is making. Obviously, I am not wishing for an event so catastrophic that it can wipe away our division, but it seems to me that we are driving ourselves to the point of despair as we worry about what might happen.

Forgive me if this is harsh, but it occurs to me that this kind of worry is a little presumptuous. I would guess that most of us are still pretty comfortable and safe, and our lives have not changed much between a month ago and now. Dare I say that even though we are not Ellen DeGeneres, we can probably sustain the increased cost of eggs and milk. Yet we are convinced that life will be terrible, that corruption will run rampant, and the earth will never survive. And that doesn’t say much for our hope that God is in charge.

When I gave my “state of the presbytery” talk at our last meeting, I quoted Jesus saying “I have conquered the world!” I can assure you that I have never repeated that quote before, because I feel that it has led to Christian triumphalism at its worst. But as I reflect on it now, Jesus did not conquer the world in the greedy, violent way we tend to think of conquest; Jesus conquered the world through his self-sacrificing love and obedience to God’s will. And God’s will is not small or convenient or non-disruptive, so we do God a disservice to limit our faith actions to avoid controversy or fundamental change. That is why some of our current efforts as a presbytery are so significant to me, because they will change history—for Christians seeking a welcoming place to worship and serve, for individuals seeking safety and intergenerational wealth for their families, for residents facing the dangers of toxic burning, and for the first people of Los Angeles seeking recognition and a place of their own where they can teach and connect with those of us who now also call Los Angeles our home.

And this is why, in spite of the many reasons I can worry, I am filled with gratitude that I can witness, and even participate in, the reflection of the kin-dom of heaven here on earth. Yesterday I was able to see three glimpses of God’s realm: in morning worship when I heard that moving sermon about life after 9/11; in the afternoon when I heard hugely inspiring testimonies from lay leaders of Interwoven; and in the evening interfaith service when Altadena people of faith—Christian, Baha`i, Muslim, Jewish—gathered to be a grateful, serving community together. How can I be anything but grateful?

So let us not worry, but trust that God who can do all things, and who cares for even the sparrow, loves us and cares for us too. Let us give thanks in all circumstances, and remember that God provides in so many ways—meeting basic needs of food and water but also by giving us love and hope and spirit and purpose. And let us show our gratitude by appreciating the gift of life, by sharing with others the hope and healing we have found, by feeding the hungry, by protecting the vulnerable. Let us love as God first loved us.

With gratitude,
Wendy

Rise up, come to our help.
Redeem us for the sake of your steadfast love.

Psalm 44:26

The circle of love is broken whenever there is alienation,
whenever there is misunderstanding,
whenever there is insensitivity and hardening of the heart.

 This was part of the prayer of confession lifted up at our Presbytery meeting on Saturday. It has been shared as part of the “Native American Sunday” worship resources for the PC(USA). November is Native American Indian Heritage Month, and our observance of this has grown from year to year.

There was a time when this was the one Presbytery meeting each year when we would acknowledge our Indigenous hosts. Now, we open every meeting with a land acknowledgement, and in this meeting we considered a recommendation to return the site of La Casa de San Gabriel to the Gabrieleno-Tongva Tribal Council. This was perhaps the most discussed item on our docket on Saturday, as some folks shared fond memories from years past at La Casa, some talked about the historic and cultural significance of that property and the potential that the tribe can do with it, and some were able to honor and give thanks for the past ministry of La Casa while also opening up to a new future with the Tongva tribe.

This was just one of several moments in the meeting that were emotional touchstones for folks. We started with a welcome and song and prayer from Live Oak Community Church, one of our new worshiping communities that brings hope and inspiration to all of us. We are so thankful to Pastor Andrew Ritiau, worship leader Shawn Halim and the worship team, Paul and Kathie Ashworth, Shawna Banks, and so many at the church who hosted us so beautifully.

We welcomed back Sandy Tice, now a recent retiree, and prayed for Claremont Presbyterian Church as they enter into a time of transition with Sandy as Bridge Pastor through the end of January. Sandy shared how she came to know Christ while a youth at Eagle Rock Presbyterian Church, recognizing Carolyn Harris as one who helped shape her faith so many years ago. This was timely, as it was also announced that the original Eagle Rock congregation will hold their last Sunday morning worship service on December 29.

And we voted to approve installing Chris Jinyoung Choi as Associate Pastor/Korean Language Minister Head Pastor of Pasadena Presbyterian Church. Several PPC members from all three language ministries came to show their support for Chris’ ministry, which was a wonderful thing to see. His installation will be Sunday, January 12, 2025, at 3 pm at PPC, and I hope that we can be with PPC as they celebrate this step forward.

We heard from Rev. Dr. Charity Ngaruiya, the Protestant Chaplain at LA General Medical Center, shared stories of pain and resilience from her work with patients. And we heard from Royi Lopez about the amazing ministry at Baldwin Park United Methodist Church, who provide short-term hospitality for asylum seekers on their way to their sponsors, some of whom live in other states. The church doesn’t just provide a safe place to sleep for a day or three; they welcome them with a meal, listen to their stories, and preserve their dignity in the way they welcome the families and the quality of items they offer to them. We contributed to their efforts with blankets, towels, toys, and money that the church can use for other needed items.

In light of the many areas of tragedy these days, the Education Equipping and Empowerment Committee offered a Service of Lament for the Presbytery meeting, when we remembered loved ones we have lost this past year, confessed the ways we live on land taken from our Indigenous neighbors, and heard about the ongoing war in Ukraine and Gaza and Lebanon, and about the impact of Hurricane Helene on Montreat Presbyterian Conference Center and so many communities in North Carolina and elsewhere. Many thanks to Rev. Dr. Charles Marks, who expressed the tragic statistics of suffering in Gaza and shared his personal grief as he has family in Lebanon. And though Dean Thompson, who loves Montreat, could not be with us, Carrie Kohler shared, because she has experienced Montreat since her youth, and her brother lives nearby. We prayed with each other and as a body, knowing that there are different burdens carried by each individual, including the private grief carried by people who dread the holiday season as they mourn loved ones or for whom the holidays can unlock waves of pain. The worship was led by members of the EEE Committee and Sandy Tice and Margarita Reyes, and the music that Shawn Halim and company provided was so meaningful and moving and appropriate for the lament and the worship.

There were the usual November items on Saturday, such as approval of the budget and election of leaders for next year and my reflection on the past year’s ministry. And our friends from Planta Colectivo and Refugee Children’s Center came so we could do some holiday shopping. Throughout, I felt that last Saturday’s meeting was marked not by a circle of love that is broken, but the circle of love that is growing wider and stronger as we take time to share and pray with each other, and take action to live into our faith in this difficult time. And for that and much more, I am most grateful.

Blessings,

Wendy