As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy, yet such a person has no root but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the
word, that person immediately falls away.

Matthew 13:20-21

This coming Sunday is World Communion Sunday, a day commemorated by Christians around the world, remembering that at the table of grace, we are all connected with each other and with Jesus Christ.

It is also the Sunday when many of our churches receive the Peace and Global Witness special offering. This offering is used to promote the peace of Christ by addressing systems of conflict and injustice across the world. The offering supports peacemaking efforts at multiple levels:

• 25% is retained by congregations to support peacemaking efforts in their local
• 25% is retained by mid councils to support peacemaking efforts at the regional
• 50% supports peacemaking, reconciliation and global witness at the national

This comes at a critical time close to home. We do not like to admit it, but all of us have seen direct impacts on our quality of life, or that of people close to us, due to the concerted efforts of the powerful to dismantle many of the checks and balances that have kept the United States more or less peaceful for our 249-year history. While we Americans have often heard about conflicts in nations thousands of miles away and wondered how it could get this bad, much of the rest of the world is now watching us and wondering what happened. The extremes of rage, gun violence, and despair have resulted in regular occurrences of mass shootings in schools and churches, such as the attack on a Mormon church in Michigan that just happened during worship yesterday. Higher education and the press are being attacked. Human services are being reduced, hurting immigrants, the poor, and ironically many of the states that have been most supportive of the current administration—and either misinformation or fear and vengeance keep the people from seeing how they are hurting themselves.

I do not like to exaggerate, but I’m starting to feel that more than at any time in the history of the United States (except during the Civil War), we are in danger of losing the rights and freedoms we assumed was an integral part of being American. And for a nation that has at times claimed to be a “Christian nation,” the basic tenets of Christ’s teachings are being forgotten—and worse, people are being hurt in God’s name. What do we do?

Too many North American Christians have taken the approach that faith and politics do not mix, or are even prohibited by the IRS. The very notion that we curtail our prophetic voice in deference to the IRS is problematic, but it’s also inaccurate. I would challenge people to consider whether we find it more convenient to pretend we are not allowed to apply our Christian values to our public behavior and political/economic choices. But Presbyterians are especially clear that we need to live our entire lives—not just Sunday mornings—in the light of Christ. In fact, I just shared with the soon-to-be Presbyterians at Interwoven the list of constitutionally-prescribed forms of witness outlined in G- 1.0304, the Ministry of Membership, which include:

• proclaiming the good news in word and deed,
• studying Scripture and the issues of Christian faith and life,
• supporting the ministry of the church through the giving of money, time, and talents, responding to God’s activity in the world through service to others, 
• living responsibly in the personal, family, vocational, political, cultural, and social relationships of life,
• working in the world for peace, justice, freedom, and human fulfillment,
• caring for God’s creation . . .

We miss the mark on many of these responsibilities, I believe because of the cost of discipleship—the feared loss of status, acceptance, or wealth if we followed Jesus’ way. The word of God does not always find fertile ground in us. In Matthew 13:20-23, Jesus is unusually explicit in interpreting the parable of the sower:

“. . . what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy, yet such a person has no root but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away. As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of this age and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed

bears fruit and yields in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.”

I am as guilty as anyone else in allowing my fear or greed or comfort level to stunt the fruitfulness of my faith. Nearly every decision we make reflects our faithfulness—how we spend our money, when we speak our truth, who we speak with to either understand another perspective or to connect with others to confront a larger evil. One of my current frustrations is the perpetuation of a binary view of the world, where everyone is forced into one of two camps, and in order to connect on one topic, you must agree on all the others. But we need to learn how to respect and work with people who don’t agree with us on everything.

From the very start, Jesus called together people from opposing backgrounds to serve God and love each other. Certainly if we are to celebrate World Communion Sunday, there will be people at Christ’s table who see some things quite differently from each of us. Love for Christ does not demand uniformity of thought—the entire history of the Christian church, from day one, proved that. So we should be better than anyone at connecting with diverse people for a larger cause.

May we be true to Christ’s call, and respect all the different ways and different people in following Christ, that together we may confront the mounting conflicts in our world with peace and forbearance. In short, may we see each other as Christ sees us, and do as Christ would do.

Blessings,

Wendy

Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, and went and found him.

John 9:35a (The Message)

In last week’s Presbytery meeting, we approved some important basics for our church life, such as new information on benefits for pastors and their families; presbytery minimum compensation for 2026, and a protection policy for minors and vulnerable adults which can be adapted to congregational use. We also approved a number of ministry shifts within the Presbytery:

• Tiffany Ashworth starts in October as Interim Pastor of Trinity Presbyterian Church in Pasadena
• Katherine Lee Baker’s call to Westminster was amended to be a one-year interim position, with the possibility to renew or move to an installed position in the future
• Stephanie Kang began her new ministry as Protestant Chaplain at Los Angeles General Medical Center
• Deidra Goulding and Bong Bringas began last week as chaplains for Retired Presbyterian Church Deidra is full-time lead chaplain for Monte Vista Grove Homes and other retirees in the bounds of San Gabriel Presbytery; Bong continues full-time at San Marino Community Church but is adding a limited role as chaplain at Westminster Gardens.

In addition to these changes, we welcomed Jeff Keuss, Dean of the School of Mission and Theology at Fuller Seminary, as a minister member, and we celebrated the news that Kristi Van Nostran was approved for ordination by San Diego Presbytery to her ministry as a hospital chaplain. Her ordination service will be Saturday, January 17, at Faith Presbyterian Church in San Diego.

All these new ministries are very exciting, but in some cases they create a loss for others. Tiffany leaves Occidental Presbyterian in Eagle Rock, and Deidra leaves Shepherd of the Valley in Hacienda Heights; both were beloved, effective pastors who will be missed by their former churches.

Stephanie had already resigned as chaplain supervisor at PIH Whittier and Downey hospitals, and we must say good-bye to Charity Ngaruiya, who was the chaplain at LA General. Also, Deetje Tiwa will be leaving her role as temporary pastor of GPIB-USA in Claremont. The fellowship is small, so they will not call a new pastor at least for now. Let us pray for these congregations and individuals who will be seeking a new sense of call in their respective ministries.

As I look at these actions, most of the ministries approved this week are outside the congregation, with Presbytery clergy serving people in hospitals, in retirement communities, and a seminary!

I’ve been surprised to learn that some presbyteries choose not to ordain or receive minister members unless they are called to serve as pastor of one of their member churches. I was surprised because I’ve always thought that ministry beyond the congregation is important, especially now in our post- Christian environment. There have been enough generations who have not grown up in church that I think many if not most young people look at churches as if they are museums—and as congregations (and church staffs) get smaller, the “museums” are often locked up for much of the week.

We also learned during COVID, when we turned into instant televangelists, that there are many people who are happy to join worship remotely—they are not, as we had been told, turned off by our old-fashioned worship and newfangled theology. But for various reasons, they do not feel comfortable coming into our physical worship spaces.

Given the situation we are in now, it makes great sense to me that we do like Jesus did, and go find folks where they are, rather than limit our ministries to sitting in our lovely sanctuaries and waiting for the people to come to us. No, that doesn’t mean we abandon our congregations! In fact I realize I have to point out to some folks that for all our other forms of witness—feeding the hungry, working for affordable housing, returning land to Native stewardship, caring for immigrants—the basic and I would say the most important unit of mission continues to be the local congregation, and when a church needs help, that is the priority for the Presbytery.

While congregations are extremely important, church members are also encouraged to go beyond their walls and connect with the community where the community is. Also, while the Presbytery needs to respond to the needs of a congregation, that does not necessarily mean the congregation gets whatever they want. We have the opportunity—maybe the responsibility—to utilize multiple forms of ministry to connect with a community that is no longer comfortably Christian. Thank God that we are free to do this!

Let us pray for the new ministries just starting to blossom, and those who will be seeking new leadership. And let us pray for all those who will experience Christ’s healing power and love through the ministries of chaplains, academics—as well as church outreach activities, faithful friendships, and loving parents and grandparents who demonstrate the love of Christ for their children. We all have opportunities to live out our faith and spread the good news of Jesus’ love, in all the ways we live.

Let’s follow those opportunities. Thanks be to God!

Blessings,

Wendy

“But where shall wisdom be found?
And where is the place of understanding?
Mortals do not know the way to it,
and it is not found in the land of the living.”

Job 28:12-13

I feel like I talk about COVID more than other people, but I think it was a watershed moment for us. It announced a significant change in our understanding of our own power, and its impact has been perpetuated by other events that prove to us, sometimes in brutal terms, that we are not in control of our lives or the world around us.

As Christians, we should know that this is true, and thank God for being infinitely better positioned to guide the universe than us mortals. But we North American Presbyterian Christians, especially those with some privilege, have often played the role of worldly manager in our world. Presbyterians have often been in leadership roles in our nation’s history, based on status, education, wealth, and/or the theological perspective that it is appropriate—even expected—that we practice our faith in the public sphere, using our privilege to make the world better for all. We have accomplished this through hospitals (like Columbia Presbyterian in New York City), education (like Occidental College and Princeton), government (John Witherspoon, the only clergy to sign the Declaration of Independence; and many politicians at all levels of governance, including many presidents and members of Congress), science (multiple stars in the history of NASA, including John Glenn, Katherine Johnson, and of course Sally Ride), and business (Sam Walton). Former Stated Clerk J. Herbert Nelson II was often asked by other Black church leaders why he was Presbyterian. He would point out that he was born Presbyterian, that his family has been Presbyterian for several generations, but also being Presbyterian gave him access that others did not have. He mentioned being involved in a labor issue that led to a strike, and he was one of several pastors to lead a protest. The CEO of the company would not speak to any of the clergy, until Rev. Nelson arrived; the CEO would only allow the Presbyterian in to meet with him, so Rev. Nelson went in.

I’m sure that every denomination can name distinguished members. But research has shown over the years that Presbyterians are better educated and wealthier than members of most other Christian denominations. Even in the aftermath of the Eaton Fire, our churches were able to show generosity to their members and the community, and most of our church members who lost their houses had insurance that is helping them through the crisis.

Generally, many of us have enjoyed some level of privilege that cushioned us from the bumps and turns that the rest of the world feels much more directly on a regular basis. The privilege that the United States enjoys as a nation is referenced in the saying “When the United States gets a cold, Mexico gets pneumonia”—and I think this is true for more than the economies of these two nations. We have had this privilege for so long that we don’t see it as privilege—it’s just the way life is. In most circumstances, we have been able to steer the course of our lives away from danger, or we have resources that allow us to minimize any problems we might encounter.

And then COVID hit. And while wealth enabled some to access medical care, the virus was unknown enough and swift and serious enough that everyone was impacted by it. And COVID’s impacts such as long COVID—and now, by the way, COVID is rising again—keep coming up.

Then, a few years later, some of us were hit by the Eaton Fire. And gun violence has grown to the point that our church sanctuaries are not sanctuaries anymore, and children are trained how to act when there’s an active shooter at their schools. And we have a federal government that is unpredictable at best, with severe cutbacks in many departments that support the well-being of all people. Changes in policies leave senior citizens concerned about their Social Security and Medicare benefits. Agencies such as FEMA and the Small Business Administration struggle to continue providing assistance to survivors of natural disasters with smaller staffs. And the targeting of immigrants—or anyone who looks like they might be an immigrant—impacts all of us; we have minister members leaving the USA for calmer nations, and we have lost neighbors, workers, caregivers, vendors, friends, and peace of mind due to the ICE raids.

These events, and many others, have taken away from us any illusion that we are in control of our lives. We are now facing the uncertainty that burdens the rest of the world, but our past privilege has impacted our ability to adapt and deal with these on-going disruptions to life as we have known it.

So what do we do? A few things come to mind:

• Exercise our faith in God, even when God’s actions are not predictable or even understandable. As Job learned, God does not answer to us or our concepts of justice, and God’s not asking for advice on how the world is supposed to be Thank God that God has so much greater wisdom and compassion than we have—as we pray!
• Mister Rogers (otherwise known as Teaching Elder Fred Rogers, minister member of Pittsburgh Presbytery) told his young viewers that if they are in a crisis, “look for the helpers.” What this means for the rest of us is to be the helpers our children look for.
• Sometimes all we can do is sit in ashes with everyone As pastors and chaplains, we are reminded that we don’t always have the answers to fix the crisis facing others—and sometimes folks aren’t looking for answers, just someone who listens and acknowledges that things are bad. And maybe even go one step further, and try to be kind, even when things are going badly—even very badly. I’ve seen recently both Red Cross volunteers

and DMV workers carrying out their very stressful jobs with great patience and kindness, and at a recent 3+-hour visit at the DMV(!), kindness was a great exercise to practice.

We can all gather together, praying to God, being the helpers, and practicing kindness and the ministry of presence for each other. We can do it in our local churches, in our families and work, and in our next Presbytery meeting, tomorrow night at 7 pm. Even by Zoom, we are strengthened whenever we gather as one. So let us be one as a Presbytery . . . one in love and service . . . one in Christ.

See you tomorrow,

Wendy

Perhaps this is the reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back for the long term, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.

Philemon 15-16

One thing mainline Christian churches don’t emphasize enough is the act of conversion. Though we frequently talk about the new creation, or the new life in Christ, we tend to live as traditional Christians —that is, we are born into the faith, grew up in the faith, and stay with the church that we are familiar with. We do not expect people to make drastic changes in their lives based on their faith. Since many of us were baptized as infants, we do not remember the dramatic moment when we are born again; nor did we all have a moment when we remember giving our lives to Christ, or receiving Christ in our hearts. Some even doubt the authenticity of such moments, and prefer the life of faith to be one of slow, gradual growth rather than a sharp turn or conscious rejection of our past life.

Personally, I don’t think our life in Christ follows any single pattern. For me, what’s important is not the formula or path but the results: our trust in God to guide us rather than wealth, power, or fear; our ability to shed hurtful behaviors or addictions; the ways we allow God to work through us; the message of Christ’s love that we share in word and deed.

But it’s helpful to have a touchstone, a way of reminding ourselves that we are not just the same old person we always were, that God has claimed us and we have heard God’s voice. Some start wearing a cross or get a tattoo; some change their name; some remember their spiritual birthday. And what’s just as important, their faith community nurture the change by recognizing spiritual gifts, or offering opportunities to practice those gifts, or reflect back to them the growth in faith they see, or identify potential new gifts and new leadership that they never recognized before.

But I have noticed that even when people are making positive changes, long-time companions might fail to reinforce those changes, but instead question the growth or even ignore the changes entirely. I remember a young man I mentored when I was at Apple Computer, who had some odd personal habits that I needed to identify for him to reject. He was thankful to be told, and shed the habits that were problematic for his career—and yet another manager would continue to joke about those old habits. Watch out when people don’t want to risk allowing new or younger church members to take on leadership roles, or are quick to remind folks about when the new deacon was new to the church and didn’t even know the Lord’s Prayer!

One thing I have always loved about the church is how we can see people as God’s children rather than however this broken world sees them. Jesus attracted traditional enemies like tax collectors and outcast women and Samaritans and church leaders and wealthy widows, and told them to be family together. And in Paul’s letter to Philemon, Paul speaks on behalf of Onesimus, who escaped from under Philemon, and asks Philemon to receive him back, and not as a slave, but as a fellow brother in Christ. Quite the change!

These changes in labels can represent changes in relationship, including reconciled relationships. I have been working on a sermon that I will give next month when several of us from the Synod will visit our sister presbytery in Korea, Jeonjoo Presbytery. I have always thought that if I had the opportunity to speak in Korea, I would feel the need to offer my remorse for the brutal oppression of Koreans by the Japanese during World War II, but also contrast those crimes with a sense of oneness, especially with current-day American-born Koreans and Japanese. So we can go from mortal enemies to siblings, especially siblings in Christ.

On a more local level, Westminster Presbyterian Church in Pasadena is using a different label for the other churches and organizations using their campus—ministry partners. This is a shift from “landlord-tenant” language, and I am very happy to see a church be so intentional in offering a more egalitarian, shared ministry relationship rather than that of “have” and “have nots.” One of the churches now worshiping at the campus is Altadena Community Church, the UCC church whose building burned down in the Eaton Fire. What is interesting is that this church was started as a break- off from Westminster 85 years ago, when a pastor was pushed out for being too liberal. I expect that the relationship between the two churches wasn’t all that friendly in past decades, but yesterday the leaders of Altadena Community were extolling the great welcome Westminster offered them at a time when the church was most vulnerable.

I believe that one of the great witnesses we Christians can offer a hurting world is reconciliation. May we find ways to practice reconciliation, and change our labels and our thinking, from landowner and renter, to partners . . . from oppressor to friend . . . from outcast to leader . . . from enemy to family. Thanks to the love of Christ, this is possible—so let us live into the change that God wills for us.

Blessings,

Wendy

“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

Luke 14:26 (NRSVUE)

When I get ready to write my weekly column, the first thing I do is check the lectionary for this coming Sunday and the preceding Sunday, to see if there’s a note that interests me, either because it addresses a current issue or it’s just been an intriguing verse to me. Luke 14:26 always rings out, evoking a “What?!” from this reader and, I suspect, many others.

The North American evangelical church has been clear about what they consider as God’s intention for all people—to be in a loving, life-long marriage to one unmarried person of the opposite sex, but the same faith tradition.

But the Bible mentions alternatives to this family structure. Jesus and the apostle Paul were not married, though Peter had a mother-in-law, so he must have been married (which is funny, since Peter is considered the first “pope”—and of course we think popes are supposed to be celibate!). The prophet Hosea was married to a woman considered to be a prostitute, and the mother of the judge Jephthah was a prostitute. Of course, there’s the polygamy, not necessarily recommended but it is certainly clear that several key Old Testament leaders had multiple wives and concubines.

And if all marriages and family relations are to be loving, what are we to make of this passage? Does Jesus really expect all his followers to hate their parents and family members? One would like to think that there’s nuance to this passage that we’re missing.

If we look at the Greek word for the verb “hate,” miseō, the word is clearly associated with the verbs to hate or detest, but there’s also a comparative aspect to it—so some translators might say “love less than” rather than “hate.” Or, like those who do not believe in a literal vow of poverty, we are not to treat family with hatred, but we should not cling to our family members—and, contrary to our healthy ministry advice of today, we are to put the ministry before family.

So, more likely, we do not take these words literally but as a challenge from Jesus, demanding total commitment. Remember, Jesus also tells potential disciples to hate life itself as well, and to be willing to bear the cross and give up all our possessions to follow Jesus.

What are we willing to let go of for the sake of Christ’s ministry?

As I consider this, I don’t know if I’m trying to find a way out of this almost mortal challenge, but it does occur to me that there are different questions Jesus is presenting. Is Jesus asking for sacrifice? But God says that God doesn’t want sacrifice. Is Jesus sifting out those who are risk averse, or calling for the risk-taking entrepreneurs among us? If so, many established churches have missed the mark! Perhaps the ultimate question is trust. How much do we trust God to provide for us if we give up everything? How much do we trust God to care for our family if we let go of trying to be their sole caregiver? And how much do we trust that even if we lose this mortal life in service to the Gospel, there is an eternal life of rest and reconciliation with God and the saints who have gone before us?

This question of trust was key for me as I prepared to go to seminary. When I started seminary, I spoke to my seminary cohort of what I let go of to start seminary—my future in Silicon Valley, my (imagined) sense of control over my life, and my image as a tough business person—and my professor prayed that I not have to lose any of it. What happened ended up being much more fulfilling than I could have ever hoped for.

A missionary was asked how she could be willing to go to some risky locations, and she said “All the time getting prepared to start the work feels like sacrifice; once you start the work, it’s all grace.” You just have to say yes.

I’m still not sure about Jesus’ rhetoric in demanding that we hate our families in order to join his mission. But I have learned that God is way more than trustworthy! I was hoping that I could trust God not to let me suffer in the ministry. Instead—at least for me—God gave me so much more than I could have imagined. All I had to say is yes. May it be so for you, as well.

Blessings,

Wendy

“Remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, your servants, how you swore to them by your own self, saying to them, ‘I will multiply your descendants like the stars of heaven, and all this land that I have promised I will give to your descendants, and they shall inherit it forever.’ ”

Exodus 32:13

When people ask me how I’m doing, I’m not sure how detailed my answer should be. But the good news is that my health is good enough that I’m now circling back and doing the medical procedures that were scheduled for January, but got canceled because of the fire.

One such appointment was this last Thursday. After a year, I was able to get my glaucoma checked. (Though it’s described as “moderate,” I have never noticed having glaucoma, but I watch it because it’s a hereditary weakness for many Japanese-Americans.) The good news is that the tests did not show any change in my glaucoma or even my regular vision.

I was most interested in this visit, though, because my ophthalmologist moved into the grand new Doheny Eye Institute facility with the address of 150 N. Orange Grove Blvd. in Pasadena. Though the address says Orange Grove, the facility is accessed by turning onto a little stub of a street called Kensington Place, and that is the original location of my family church. The church that we know of as First Presbyterian Church, Altadena, moved to Lincoln Avenue when Kensington Place was condemned to make way for the 210 freeway. My family didn’t even realize there was still a Kensington Place, and there isn’t much left.

The story of the old Pasadena Union Church is a glimpse into the racial history of Pasadena. In Pasadena, there were two main districts that were redlined, D6 and D9. In my childhood, most of the Black, Japanese, and Mexican residents of Pasadena lived in D6, near John Muir High School. But in earlier days, when my uncle played high school football with Jackie Robinson, many of our ancestors lived in D9, which starts at Orange Grove just north of what is now the Norton Simon Museum. It follows a very thin strip south, then widens around Del Mar Blvd. and includes the blocks along the western side of Fair Oaks down to Huntington Hospital. According to the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation (a New Deal federal agency founded in 1935 to shore up home ownership after the Depression that also established the redlining maps), D6’s demographics were about 10% “foreign,” Mexican and Japanese (though many were born in the US) and 40% “Negro.” In D9, the residents were 15% Mexican and Japanese and 40% Black. However, these neighborhoods are adjacent to some of the wealthiest areas; my family church was a few blocks from the Gamble House. They were so close to wealth, but distant enough that much of D9 became the path of the 710 stub (my ancestors obviously didn’t have the political clout of the people of South Pasadena.)

If you read about Jackie Robinson’s childhood, he mentions growing up with Black, Japanese, and Mexican kids. The old-timers at my family church knew that while the Japanese kids went to Pasadena Union Church, the Robinson family was active at Scott Methodist Church, which is around the corner from the Gamble House—but they all went to school together. (I think Scott was saved from demolition because they are right on Orange Grove Blvd., which of course was preserved from the freeway.)

Why do I go into this detail? Partly because we have been looking at the connection between land and community strength . . . Partly because as I get older and look towards retirement, I wonder how we will retain the stories of our history . . . Partly because we need to know that there is great richness in

the history of our people that should empower and challenge us as we face difficult times today. For instance, as we discuss the importance of affordable housing and access to financial resources, I know that my family church started as housing for Japanese migrant workers and students, was used as a temporary shelter for Japanese families returning from the World War II camps, and that the church started its own savings and loan for their members because the commercial banks would not give them mortgages. These actions on behalf of Christians from decades ago played a key role in the recovery and development of my people, whom the US government described as “enemy alien” and a “subversive race” who “infiltrated” neighborhoods to turn them into slums.

Who are now being described in these degrading ways today? And what are we church folk doing about it? And how will this impact our—and their—descendants?

There is a phrase oft-used in the Japanese-American community, kodomo no tame ni—“for the sake of the children.” As we consider the generations that came before us, the ancestors of faith who acted bravely for the sake of God’s children, may we be open to God’s leading, for the sake of God’s children in our presence today.

And may we be inspired and emboldened by the loving grace of Christ in our lives.

Blessings,

Wendy