Category: Pastor’s Blog



It is time to speak. It is past time to speak. Silence has been betrayal for too long.

We join the movement in this small way and seek other ways to show solidarity. We are learners, as most of us are white, and not authorities on race issues. We do not wish to speak down from a position of privilege but to look up and learn from a place of relative ignorance.

Why “Black Lives Matter”?

This question, in my experience, comes from white people. Why not say “all lives matter”?

I need to be frank about this: In our culture and by people of a particular mindset, “All Lives Matter” has been used as a counter to the BLM movement, to suffocate the cries of injustice.

In this form, “all lives matter” comes across as a naïve and ignorant platitude spoken by people who have the privilege of not really having to deal with racism in their ordinary lives. 

At worst, “all lives matter” has been a denial of the cry of the oppressed and an ugly, underhanded way of subtly accusing them of being the ones stirring up racial division.

Black Lives Matter is the true form of All Lives Matter in our present context. Because they are not and have not been mattering. That is the point.

At the BLM rally in Albuquerque last evening (June 7), I heard a speaker say, “Of course we believe all lives matter, but right now it needs to be Black Lives Matter.”

What about riots?

I will simply agree with MLK that while riots are condemned, ultimately, they are the voice of the unheard. And I will also say that white people, such as myself, cannot just quote MLK and think we have reconciled the issue.

If you want riots to end, let us begin to hear those voices. Let us make the real-life changes that recognize the value of black lives. Let us acknowledge that no real progress has been made in more than 50 years regarding wealth inequality. Let us learn about mass incarceration, which is blatantly racist, as well as the school-to-prison pipeline, also deeply racist.

White Fragility

Let’s not be so fragile about it. We can admit privilege without that being a denial of the suffering that we too have endured. Yes, poor white populations suffer some of the same injustices. This should create solidarity, not further division!

We can admit that the racism must be somewhere because we see its effects, and maybe, just maybe, it is in us.

“When you are used to 100%, 98% feels like oppression.” I heard a wise white woman say that today about white fragility. Can we look at these difficult truths without becoming so defensive?

We can admit that tranquility and the status quo have been good for us, by and large, and we have a vested interest in preserving them, even at the expense of justice. And we can have the courage to see just how evil this is.

If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
    with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
    and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
    and your night will become like the noonday.

Isaiah 58:9b-10 (NIV)

We, the members of woodsEnd concur with the above statement written by our Pastor, Bryan Hackett. We sign our names here as testimony of our solidarity:

Christine Hackett

David and Tisha Anderson

Gary and Sheryl Cerveny

Kathy Godec

His Most Distressing Disguise

His Most Distressing Disguise

It was, of course, Mother Teresa who said it.

“Seeking the face of God in everything, everyone, all the time, and his hand in every happening; This is what it means to be contemplative in the heart of the world. Seeing and adoring the presence of Jesus, especially in the lowly appearance of bread, and in the distressing disguise of the poor.”

What it means to be contemplative. I want to be contemplative. I think contemplation holds some of the things that are absent in the shallowness we sometimes call worship. We are trying to practice contemplation in our services, at the expense of what has been known as “praise and worship”.

Can I adore Jesus in the lowly appearance of bread? Is that part of making communion holy again? And, if I manage to do it, can that go outside of my experience in a church service and teach me to adore him in other common things? In even distressing things.

Needy people can be distressing. (And I have taken my fair share of other people’s time being needy.)

Right now, I am, we are (woodsEnd) in a phase of having to say “silver and gold have I none”–even though that “none” is pretty comfortable compared to world standards! What I mean is, when someone in need calls, I can’t ‘make it go away’ by throwing money at it. I don’t have that luxury. So, when they called the other night–this family of three–wanting to not sleep in their car on another cold night, I had no way to get a room for them. But I have a building that sits empty a lot of the time. Surely even sleeping in there on the floor is better than in the car.

So they did for a couple of nights. Until they could think a little more clearly and move on to the next stage of their plan.

But my “real work” got disrupted. I needed to send email updates to at least four Committees, trying to remember what happened in those meetings from a week ago. I hadn’t had time to write out the meeting notes. I have been burning the candle at both ends trying to set something up to continue to make my own house payments. It felt like I was being pulled away from very important stuff to tend to things I didn’t have time for. Then, just as this family was getting packed up and on their way, another guy showed up needing somewhere to lay his head. He has a job here starting this afternoon, and won’t get paid for a few weeks. He is sleeping on the concrete floor in our youth room. I have more comfortable spaces at my house, but I also have kids. What do you do? “Whatever you do to the least of these…” echoes in the back of my mind. I’m not sure I want to hear Jesus say that I made him sleep on the concrete floor that night. To his credit, the guy is really grateful, and told me that he won’t even use the heat in the building.

It is distressing in all kinds of ways.

But he insists that he is there. That opportunity to serve Jesus presents itself continually. Jesus in the lowly bread. Jesus in the lowly people.

And, hopefully, Jesus in me.


Powerless, by Bryan Hackett

Powerless, by Bryan Hackett

I grew up in a church environment that emphasized power. “You shall receive power when the Holy Ghost comes upon you.” Even “the violent take it by force” was touted as a good thing, the way to get hold of the Kingdom of God. So, needless to say, powerlessness just seemed like something negative, despite Jesus’ encouragement to follow him because he was “lowly and gentle”.

Powerlessness seems to be a fundamental step for us though, as spiritual, emotional, and intellectual beings. It seems that if a person like me does not experience deep powerlessness, the ego will continue to dominate and can really mess things up.

I know that this is dangerous material, and I want to say to anyone who has experienced powerlessness in terrible, hurtful ways, this message is not directed at you. Women in general have experienced powerlessness regularly, and Jesus always assured women of their power. (Richard Rohr)

But for a pretty privileged, almost white male ego, powerlessness is needed. It seemed so for Paul, and maybe that thorn in the flesh thing was all about powerlessness and what it could do for him spiritually. “When I am weak, then I am strong.” Have we learned this lesson? Have I learned this lesson?

Perhaps you have experienced being powerless in a very negative way. Almost certainly you have been through this! Powerless to stop an injustice being perpetrated against you or someone you loved. Powerless to stop the lies and gossip being told about you. Powerless to recover money taken from you by a scam. So when I start to talk about being powerless, there can be some good resistance.

But have you ever felt powerlessness in a positive way? I think the fundamental feeling is awe, probably what the phrase “the fear of the Lord” is trying to get at. To stand on the rim of a vast canyon (I think of the Mogollon Rim in Pinetop, AZ, where millions of Ponderosa Pines can be seen all at once!) and just realize your own smallness and even insignificance is liberating, freeing. I am powerless in the face of this vast expanse of creation, which itself is insignificantly small in comparison to the planet, which, in turn, is just a Pale Blue Dot, to borrow from Carl Sagan. Yet when I walk away from an experience like this, I am alive and sustained and breathing and part of it all. It seems to give me a “proper significance” aware of its own smallness rather than the bloated, mostly empty, and pretended significance of my ego.

I am also insignificant and powerless in the face of the world’s injustice. Sometimes it seems as vast as that mighty forest, or the great oceans. I am small in the face of it all. I am limited and ineffective and powerless to do anything that will change it in any meaningful way. Is it possible to take a lesson from the awe-filled experiences of nature and apply it here? Can I walk away from a much-needed look into the face of darkness knowing that I am alive and sustained and breathing…and part of it all? Might I find a “proper significance”, aware of its own smallness, yet capable of giving a cup of cold water today, or a coat or some shoes? My kind word, small and seemingly meaningless–can it find proper significance even in, and possibly because of, its smallness.

The creator is insanely attentive to detail. It seems to me that the divine is aware of the proper significance of the smallest of things. There seems to be no notice of my over-inflated displays of egotistical significance, but the moment I get small–a broken heart, confession of inability–THAT gets the attention of the holy one. A phone call comes through in my distress, and a familiar voice says “why is God letting me read your mail?” I wish that God would not, but at the same time I am glad.

You have experienced powerlessness in cruel and unfair ways. You may have experienced that even with me–after all, I have a pulpit to speak from. The powerlessness that I am talking about here has the ability to heal those things. In small, slow, but steady ways most of the time. The way the creator seems to do most of his miracles. And you are one of them.

Cleaning Up and Starting Fresh

Cleaning Up and Starting Fresh

How many new beginnings are there?

The website is the next step in creating a new woodsEnd. I (Bryan) am going to pay more attention here and add fresh content. We want to link to places and blogs online that might be helpful for you in your spiritual growth. We want the body to be informed, and the pastor and other leaders to be accessible.

We want to know what you think, what you desire in your pursuit of God!